Both their heads turned to follow him as he walked. Cat realised he could see Tonino through the shape of the departing old man, and the lilies-of-the-valley on the bedside table, and then the corner of the white wardrobe. The old man was getting smaller all the time as he walked, until at last he was lost into white distance.

Cat was astonished not to find himself screaming – although he almost did when he looked back at Gabriel de Witt lying on his pillows and found Gabriel’s face blue-pale and more sunken than ever, and his mouth slowly dropping wider and wider open. Cat could not seem to utter a sound, or move either, until Tonino whispered, “I saw you through him!”

Cat gulped. “Me too. I saw you. Why was that?”

“Was that his last life?” Tonino asked. “Is he truly dead now?”

“I don’t know,” said Cat. “I think we ought to call someone.”

But it seemed as if someone already knew. Footsteps thumped on the carpet outside and Miss Rosalie burst into the room, followed by Mr Roberts, who both rushed to the bed and stared anxiously down at Gabriel de Witt as if they expected him to wake up any minute. Cat snatched another look at that gaping mouth and strange, blue-wax complexion, and thought that he had never seen anyone more obviously dead. He had seen his parents just before their funeral, but they had looked almost asleep and not like this at all.

“Don’t worry, boys,” Miss Rosalie said. “It’s only another life gone. He’s still got two more.”

“No, you’re forgetting the life he gave to Asheth,” Mr Roberts reminded her.

“Oh, so I am,” Miss Rosalie said. “Silly of me. But he’s still got one left. Why don’t you go downstairs, boys, until the new life takes over. It can sometimes be quite a while.”

Cat and Tonino jumped thankfully out of their chairs. But as they did so, Gabriel stirred. His mouth shut with a snap and his face became the face of a person again – a person who looked pale and unwell, but full of strong feelings despite that.

“Rosalie,” he said, weak and fretful, “warn Chrestomanci. Neville Spiderman is sniffing round this house. I felt him very clearly just now.”

“Oh, nonsense, Gabriel!” Miss Rosalie said, brisk and bossy. “How could he be? You know Neville Spiderman – whatever his real name was – lived at the time of the first Chrestomanci. That was more than a hundred years before you were born!”

“I felt him, I tell you!” Gabriel insisted. “He was there when my last life was leaving.”

“You can’t possibly know that,” Miss Rosalie insisted.

“I do know. I made a study of the man,” Gabriel insisted in return. His voice was more and more weak and quavery. “When I was first made Chrestomanci, I studied him, because I needed to know what a really evil enchanter was like and he was the most ingenious of the lot. And this is very ingenious, Rosalie. He’s trying to make himself stronger than any Chrestomanci ever was. Warn Christopher he’s not safe. Warn Eric particularly.”