‘Oh!’ she said with a laugh. ‘Hello, Mr Magpie. You frightened me. Go on now, shoo!’

She took another step forward, hoping the bird would take the hint, but it didn’t move. It just tilted its head and continued to stare up at her as though it were considering something. Then it opened its beak.

‘Cat,’ said the magpie and she felt a tiny jolt of fear in the base of her skull.

‘Wh–what did you say?’

Caw, said the magpie.

If she didn’t know better, she might have thought the bird was making fun of her.

She shook her head. This was silly, it was only a bird.

‘Well, if you won’t move …’ she said and took a confident step forward. The magpie finally took flight.

Cat didn’t bother looking to see where it went. If she had, she would have seen it land on the electricity wire a few metres above her head, where it tucked in its wings and settled down to watch her house once again.

She finally located the front-door key and was about to place it in the keyhole when the door flew open and Granny stared out at her with wild eyes.

‘What are you doing out and about? Get in, child, get in!’ She seemed flustered, almost scared.

‘What’s wrong?’ Cat asked, confused. She had never seen her Granny so pale.

‘Get in the house right now, Caitriona. There’s something out there. Something …’ She stiffened and in the silence that stretched between them, Cat thought she could detect a strange music dancing just on the edge of earshot.

‘So,’ Granny said, almost in a whisper. ‘They’re back.’

Chapter Three

Iron, Bread and Salt

‘Sorry, who’s back?’ Cat asked, feeling the hair on the back of her neck begin to prickle. But Granny didn’t answer. She stormed into the kitchen, pulling open drawers and cupboards seemingly at random.

Now it was Cat’s turn to be scared. She had never seen Granny act like this before. She was normally so calm and self-assured.

Granny pulled an unopened loaf of bread out of the bread bin and grabbed the shaker of salt sitting on the dining-room table.

‘Iron,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Where would I find iron about this place? Caitriona,’ she said, spinning around to face her confused granddaughter, ‘where does your mammy keep her tool kit?’

‘Out there,’ Cat said, pointing to the shed in the back garden. ‘Do you want me to–’

‘No!’ Granny said, cutting her off. ‘No, I’ll go. It’ll be getting dark out there soon. It’s too dangerous for you.’

Before Cat could protest that it wasn’t even four o’clock yet, Granny had marched out the back door with a determined set to her face. A moment later she was back, hammer and nails in hand. She paused by the back door, took a nail, and battered it deep into the mortar on one side of the door before doing the same to the other side.