Yori shook his head. ‘Even kiai-jutsu has its limits.’

‘Ah! Foreign magic,’ muttered the old woman, licking her dry lips. ‘But not everyone who wears a cowl is a monk.’

‘And not every wise woman is a witch,’ replied Yori with a nervous smile.

Jack examined the stocks themselves. While the padlock was solid and secure, the stocks were old and worn, the wood weathered and riddled with woodworm. ‘I might be able to free you,’ he offered.

‘It would take a strong man to break these bonds,’ replied the witch.

‘I don’t need strength,’ replied Jack, ‘just technique.’

Recalling his tameshiwari training, Jack knew it was possible to break through three blocks of wood in a single punch. He’d only ever managed two blocks, but the stocks looked to be about the same thickness. Breathing deeply and harnessing his inner energy, Jack channelled the ki into his fist. Then, with a mighty shout of ‘KIAI!’, he punched the brittle wood …

CRACK!

But the wood wasn’t as brittle as it looked. The stocks splintered but refused to snap, his knuckles crumpling instead. Grimacing in pain, Jack clutched his hand.

How Sensei Kyuzo would be laughing in his grave at such a failure! he thought grimly.

‘Good try, dear,’ soothed the old woman as Jack nursed his throbbing fist. ‘Seems you broke your hand rather than the stocks. Here, let me have a look at your injury.’ Then, with startling ease, she slipped her ankles out of the stocks and creakily got to her feet.

They all stared dumbfounded at the crone.

‘You … you could get out? Any time?’ gasped Yori.

‘Oh yes,’ replied the old woman, smirking. ‘Stocks can’t hold a witch.’

‘I warned you the hag was playing tricks on us!’ cried Rose.

The witch laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t curse any of you. Not even you, Rose.’

Flinching at the use of her name, Rose fearfully backed her horse away.

‘But I did want to test you,’ the witch went on. ‘Most travellers ignore me, or they taunt or abuse me. Few show compassion … although there was a girl, blonde-haired … eyes like the sea …’ She smiled at Jack, a hideous, crooked, black-toothed smile.

A flicker of hope ignited in Jack’s heart. ‘Are you talking about Jess?’

The witch’s grin suddenly vanished and she stared wide-eyed down the road, as if a storm was fast approaching. ‘Make haste! For the sun soon sets, and your shadows grow longer. And you don’t want your shadow catching up with you … do you, Jack?’

The old woman fixed him with such a piercing look that Jack wondered if she somehow knew of the dark figure he’d seen outside Sir Henry’s house in London. The flicker of hope he’d felt a moment ago now turned to cold fear.