‘How did she lose it?’

He shrugged. He was growing redder and redder by the second. ‘Dunno.’

‘How did you get back here from Tomintoul?’

‘I never left. I didn’t get on the bus.’ For all his embarrassment and awkwardness, he was being remarkably recalcitrant.

Winter folded his arms across his chest. ‘You’re lying.’

‘Wh – what?’ Mazza stammered. ‘I’m not! Amy lost her necklace and I want to find it for her.’

‘He is sweet on her,’ I remarked.

The glow on Mazza’s cheeks intensified. ‘She’s a nice person!’ he said, as if daring me to argue with him.

‘Yes, she is. But you’re still lying about something, Mazza.’

He glared at me. ‘I’m not.’

I tapped my foot impatiently. There really wasn’t time for this. Whatever he was doing out here, there was next to no chance it had anything to do with zombies. Maybe he was just looking for Amy’s necklace in a bid to impress her. Stranger things had happened.

Brutus, sensing my irritation, jumped up and sauntered over. He circled round Mazza like a predator, sniffing as he went. Then he sat back on his haunches and washed his face. ‘Blood,’ he said.

Mazza screeched, ‘That cat just spoke!’

I ignored him and focused on Brutus. ‘Blood? You’re sure?’

Brutus continued to wash himself as if he’d already given us every possible answer we could want.

A dangerous smile lit Winter’s lips. ‘Where’s the blood from, Mazza?’ he asked silkily. He sounded far scarier now that his voice was low than he had when he’d been shouting.

‘I… I…’ Mazza’s eyes darted from side to side as if he were expecting someone to appear and rescue him. Just to be sure, I glanced around as well. The Ipsissimus had said we had at least a day before we could expect another zombie but that didn’t mean the impossible couldn’t still happen. When there wasn’t even the faintest rustle of leaves, I relaxed.

‘Spit it out, Mazza,’ I said tiredly, ‘or I’ll get Winter here to turn you into a toadstool.’

His eyes went even wider. ‘You can do that?’

‘Oh,’ Winter purred, ‘I can do that and more. I’m a highly trained Order witch, Mazza. There are no limits to my magic.’

At those words I opened my mouth but Winter nudged me in the ribs. Yeah, okay. This wasn’t the time to point out that the limits to his magic included finding out who was raising the dead or getting Mazza to tell the truth.

Mazza’s entire body seemed to droop. ‘It’s not what you think,’ he said.

It never was. ‘Go on.’

‘It’s not human blood.’

I glanced at Brutus. He didn’t twitch so I reckoned Mazza wasn’t lying on that part. I tilted up my chin and stared at him. ‘Sheep blood?’

Mazza shrunk even further into himself. ‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘I thought I’d washed it all off.’

He hadn’t been counting on Brutus. What most people don’t realise is that cats have a better sense of smell than bloodhounds. Yet again, our investigation seemed to involve white fluffy animals with less sense than lemmings. A deep unease filtered through me.