I stared at the teenager, the one who’d told me where to find Gareth when he was in the gym. It didn’t make any sense. Neither did the fact that I’d been bested by a damn kid. So much for my supposed magical talent.

‘Alistair?’ I asked.

His lip curled. ‘Yeah. You didn’t really think that gormless Gareth was behind all this, did you? He’s useless.’ For good measure, he kicked Gareth’s legs. The force he used was considerable and Gareth’s sharp moan of pain attested to its violence.

I didn’t understand. My gaze swung from Alistair to Gareth and back again. ‘But…’

Interpreting my confusion for what it was, Alistair laughed. It was a humourless sound but I didn’t think I imagined the tremble in it. ‘Calls himself a McAllan. But he’s not really. Tell her what you really are.’

Gareth mumbled to himself.

‘Speak up,’ Alistair yelled, his fury growing. I realised that this wasn’t teenage angst expressing itself in a particularly ugly manner. The necromancy he’d already conjured up was taking root within him. Veins were bulging across his forehead and his eyes had a peculiar glazed look. How on earth had he managed to slip through the net? But I already knew the answer – he was a kid. The Order and the police wouldn’t have given him a second thought. I doubted he’d even been interviewed.

‘I was adopted,’ Gareth said, his voice still barely above a whisper.

‘His mother didn’t want him. Ain’t that right? Even when you were a baby she knew that you’d turn out to be nothing. Gave you up the first chance she got.’

I glanced at Gareth. ‘You’re brothers?’

Alistair answered for him. ‘We are not brothers. The only reason Mum and Dad didn’t get rid of him when I came along is that they felt sorry for him.’ There was another long-drawn-out snort. ‘He’s a waste of space.’

Bloody hell. This was like a gender-swapped Cinderella. I wondered if my role was supposed to be that of the Fairy Godmother. Somehow I didn’t think glass slippers and a pretty gown would do the trick.

‘I should be grateful to him. If it wasn’t for him, I would never have learned what I’m really capable of.’ Alistair paused and gazed down at his hands. ‘I can do amazing things. I will do amazing things.’

‘Alistair, what you’re doing is highly dangerous,’ I said, shifting round and trying to get into a position where I could wriggle out of my bonds, or at least move my hands enough to cast a rune. ‘The magic you’re using comes at a high cost.’

‘You’re just jealous. When did any other witch manage to talk to the dead? When did anyone else do what I can do? At first it was just a bit of fun. I found an old book with her name in it.’ He pointed towards the grave. ‘And spells for stealing sheep. You’ve no idea how much fun it was watching him running around the countryside after those stupid creatures. Got him out of my way as well.’ Alistair smiled in smug self-satisfaction. ‘And he got the blame for losing them.’