Violet slides back down the ladder, and lands neatly. In her hand is a slim aqua-green hardback book, old-looking and with no dust cover. The title is stamped in faded silver letters across the front. It looks like the last person who read it used a piece of dried seaweed as a bookmark.

“So this is mine?” she says, clearly still unsure about all this. “My book?”

“In more ways than one, perhaps,” says a man’s voice, and we jump with fright. A shadow crosses the next room, and Sebastian Eels fills the doorway. He pushes one hand through his thick hair and a few half-melted snowflakes flutter down. “Now that is a very interesting choice.”

And he takes the book.

“Malamander.” He reads out the title. “By Captain K. So mysterious, isn’t it, when an author tries to hide his real identity? But it seems the mermonkey has chosen to tell you a story about our famous local legend, Violet. The tragic story of old Captain K and his battle with a monster.”

Violet reaches out and takes the book back. Politely, but quite firmly.

“How do you know my name?”

“So sorry – rude of me. Jenny just told me who you are. Peter Parma’s girl. I’m Eels, by the way. Sebastian Eels.” And he holds one large slab-like hand out to shake. Violet’s hand is engulfed by it. “I dabble in a little writing myself.”

“We should be going,” I say, heading towards the doorway.

There’s a pause before Sebastian Eels moves out of the way and allows us through.

“Of course. Well, goodbye, Violet. If you ever need any help with that book, feel free to get in touch. I’m something of an expert on the legend of the malamander. And you can often find me here.”

We are just heading back downstairs when the author calls out to us.

“Oh, and I would be especially interested to hear if you catch sight of it yourself.”

Violet stops, and looks back. “The malamander? I thought you said it was just a legend?”

“Oh, indeed.” Sebastian Eels grins, passing his tongue over his teeth as he does so. “But in a place like Eerie-on-Sea, legends can sometimes have a little more … bite.”

COPROLITES AND CUTTLEFISH

“HE’S JUST TRYING TO WIND YOU UP,” I say to Violet as we leave the book dispensary and step back out into the cold. “Sebastian Eels likes to have an effect on people. Just ignore him.”

“He gives me the creeps,” says Violet. “Why did he leave the bookshop and then come back in again?”

“He’s a writer, isn’t he? Can’t keep away, I expect.”

“Well, for some reason, he seems especially interested in my book,” says Violet, patting her coat pocket where she’s slipped the slim green volume.