I nod my greeting to the dazed interloper. It feels strange to be called only by my first name, with no title or formalities. I know Perry will recall none of it in the morning, for Mangan will work a swift spell of forgetting to erase this meeting from his mind. Indeed, he even takes advantage of the young man’s presence, sending him into the kitchen to make tea.

We are left alone again. For a while we return to the subject of a possible threat to the coven. He agrees with me that we should convene a meeting of the senior witches as soon as possible, and organize a calling to consult the spirits further. It is now that I think to speak to him of the spirit who was present at the ceremony, but before I can do so Perry has reappeared with the tea and we allow our talk to turn to more personal matters, awaiting the right moment for Mangan to send him to his room and relieve his memory of my ever having been here.

“How is Jane?” I ask. “And the children?”

“All in rude health, as ever.”

“And your work goes well?”

“It is both my pleasure and my torment, as it will always be.”

I glance at Perry and whisper, “We should have been more careful. We might have woken others in the house.”

“I doubt it.” Mangan smiles. “The children would sleep on though the last trump sounded, and Jane is a true mother. Nothing stirs her save the smallest whimper of one of her offspring, at which she is up and out of the bed before her eyes have fully opened. Gudrun will not wake before noon, whatever the provocation. And our new artist has his billet beneath the rafters, and no sounds can reach him there.”

I experience a frisson of delight at the mention of Bram, and for a moment am distracted by the thought of him sleeping upstairs.

I watch Mangan steer Perry from the room, pausing as he does so to blow me a kiss from the doorway. I compel myself to hold the thought he has given me. As Lilith, I may grieve for Violet. As Morningstar, I must not allow sorrow to weaken me. I must turn my thoughts to the notion that the Sentinels are moving against us, that they may be using a Dark Spirit to weaken me, and that one of them has wormed his way into the very heart of our coven.

At home the next day I cannot settle to anything and am aware of my sharpness with Mama. I must call a meeting of senior witches to discuss what is happening. It is only right that they are informed, and, in truth, I cannot do without their help. I send word that I will await them in the Great Chamber at midnight.