“Good,” said Strange. “And what spell do you recommend? Are there any in Belasis?”

“Yes, three.”

“Are they worth trying?”

“No, not really.” Mr Norrell opened a drawer and drew out a piece of paper. “This is the best I know. I am not in the habit of using summoning spells – but if I were, this is the one I would use.” He passed it to Strange.

It was covered with Mr Norrell’s small, meticulous handwriting. At the top was written, “Mr Strange’s spell of summoning.”

“It is the one you used to summon Maria Absalom,”² explained Norrell. “I have made some amendments. I have omitted the florilegium which you copied word for word from Ormskirk. I have, as you know, no opinion of florilegia in general and this one seems particularly nonsensical. I have added an epitome of preservation and deliverance, and a skimmer of supplication – though I doubt that either will help us much in this case.”³

“It is as much your work as mine now,” observed Strange. There was no trace of rivalry or resentment in his voice.

“No, no,” said Norrell. “All the fabric of it is yours. I have merely neatened the edges.”

“Good! Then we are ready, are we not?”

“There is one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“There are certain precautions that are necessary to secure Mrs Strange’s safety,” explained Mr Norrell.

Strange cast a glance at him as if he thought it a little late in the day for Mr Norrell to be thinking of Arabella’s safety, but Mr Norrell had hurried to a bookshelf and was busy delving in a large volume and did not notice.

“The spell is written in Chaston’s Liber Novus. Ah, yes! Here it is! We must build a magical road and make a door so that Mrs Strange may come safely out of Faerie. Otherwise she might be trapped there for ever. It might take us centuries to find her.”

“Oh, that!” said Strange. “I have done it already. And appointed a doorkeeper to meet her when she comes out. All is in readiness.”

He took the merest stub of a candle, placed it in a candlestick and lit it.⁴ Then he began to recite the spell. He named the abbey-stones as the envoy sent to seek the King. He named the river as the path the King was to come. He named next year’s apples and pears from Mr Norrell’s trees as the handsel the King was to receive. He named the moment of the flame’s dying as the time when the King was to appear.

The candle guttered and went out …

… and in that moment …

… in that moment the room was full of ravens. Black wings filled the air like great hands gesturing, filled Strange’s vision like a tumult of black flames. He was struck at from every side by wings and claws. The cawing and the croaking were deafening. Ravens battered walls, battered windows, battered Strange himself. He covered his head with his hands and fell to the floor. The din and strife of wings continued a little while longer.