My boots crunched on the shingle as I made my way up the valley through the trails of peat smoke and the mewling of gulls. Ailsa was in the kitchen and once again I had the uncanny sense that she had expected me. Her face was drawn and for the first time, as she pulled her shawl closer, I recognized that she was truly old.

‘Come in.’ A wisp of smoke escaped her lips and she closed the door behind us, beckoning me to the bench in the kitchen. The usual array of items littered the table and a fishing net that she had been mending fell in folds to the floor.

‘So?’

I was not welcome.

I took the pouch from my skirts and emptied the contents on to the table. Her fingers tightened on the pipe.

‘You bring a widows’ whistle here?’ She was aghast.

I thought of all the scorn that must have leaked from me when she had first shared her information and a flush of shame rose on my cheeks. ‘I didn’t want to believe it then,’ I said. ‘Even though I suspected then that Hettie and William had returned. I wanted to think it could not be true. Now I know otherwise.’

Her eyes flashed up and she took the pipe from her mouth. For a moment I thought she was smirking but it was a grimace. The widows’ whistle was repugnant – thin and discoloured with a roughly hewn mouth. I tried not to imagine the sour, rotting air that passed through its tube.

‘I wonder who called them. Just as you must have wondered,’ she said finally and reached out for it, withdrawing her hand at the last instant. ‘Was it Mary?’ She spoke softly, as if to herself. ‘Perhaps the desire to see those she loved again brought them both, or perhaps it was for another reason.’

‘I don’t believe they were called by love. They were returned to continue their evil.’

Her eyes went wide at my vehemence but she made no comment. The first spatter of icy rain hit the glass. She picked up a piece of wood and pushed at the dolls and pebbles. ‘And all these were at Iskar?’

I nodded. ‘This is not Mary’s doing. I believe Greer has a hand in it.’

‘Greer?’ She paused. ‘Perhaps.’ She raked my face and for the first time there was pity there.

‘Can you help me? If there are spells and tools for summoning, there must be those for dismissing. You seem to understand these things. We must send them back to their graves. She means harm, harm to Mary.’

And I imagined Iskar without its ghosts and with sleep uninterrupted by Hettie’s winding voice or her presence, and was flooded with longing. Without the ghosts, Mary and I would surely be safe and Iskar would be tolerable. I did not believe that Greer would have the courage to harm Mary by her own hand.