When I got too close, she lashed out at me. I actually felt the sensation of a hand against my chest, a shove driven as if by living muscle, before I went flying. I twisted just in time to land. The impact was so hard that I lost my footing and staggered into the tree. I caught myself and flung a spool of my own, but I was so new to the art that my efforts were little more than a beesting to Metyard. All her attention was fixed on Nick and Eliza, who were trembling with the effort of keeping her at bay. Eliza had also formed a spool, and they were working together to suspend the poltergeist between them, giving her no way out. Anne lingered behind my shoulder, almost as if she was watching the show.

The back door to the den finally opened. Jaxon Hall stepped on to the bone-pale paving stones.

From his leisurely pace, he had to have been testing us with his absence – for the last few minutes, at least. Seeing how long we could hold on to Metyard.

He carried a knife with a white handle. Nothing else. I had never seen Jaxon use his clairvoyance before. He was secretive about the nature of it – with me, at least. I knew he was a binder, someone able to bend a spirit’s will to his own, but I didn’t know exactly how he did it – only that it involved using a spirit’s name to exert control over them. And a knife, apparently. He levelled an amused gaze on his prize before calmly unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt and pushing it up to the elbow.

Metyard had caught wind of danger. She shook off Nick and Eliza and hurtled towards Jaxon. Before I knew what I was doing, I had sidestepped, putting myself in front of him.

I didn’t have enough time to make a spool.

What I did have was my gift.

It stirred in me again. It opened like a flower, and it grew, too big for me to grasp. It was a mechanism, designed to respond to danger. Metyard met it with a force that I felt in every nerve-end. A poltergeist could interact with living flesh: rend it, scar it.

Jaxon had to be able to imprison her. I had to give him time.

All at once, I was soaked to the bone in icy sweat. Behind me, Jaxon hissed through his teeth as he began the binding.

My hands pushed out – not because I thought I could shove Metyard away, but to convince myself that I was in control of this force inside me. I was a pressure-cooker on the brink of boiling over, brimming with power.