‘No, Zita, you can’t do it. You’ll be in too much pain.’

‘Bottoms up,’ she said. And before anybody could do anything to stop her, Zita closed her eyes and started to mutter under her breath. It appeared as if she was going into a trance. Her eyes fluttered under her eyelids; she shuddered, and then went limp.

Kit immediately put his arms around her. ‘Gone.’

‘How long will she be away?’

‘Time be not the same.’

Tom remembered the bells striking in White Quad. The boy, standing there, unsure, in his ill-fitting uniform. The smell of cut grass on the breeze. The summer sun filtering through the plane tree and the shadows on the lawn. What wouldn’t he give to hear the comforting ringing now, or even the nasal voice of Fletcher, calling him to supper, the bleep of computer games, the gush of a tap running.

Tom peered out again into the darkness. It did not seem any less impenetrable. He placed one of the lamps on the windowsill. It was laughably weak.

Kit regarded him with both longing and fear. Tom held him, and they hugged each other, waiting, Zita between them.

After a few seconds, a spluttering came from Zita, and she sat upright, eyes open. She looked even paler than before, a bluish, unhealthy tinge to her skin.

She spoke hesitantly. ‘I’ve seen what’s out there, chaps.’

‘We can get out?’ Tom let go of Kit, and Kit, in turn, released Zita.

Zita nodded. ‘I think so.’

Kit said, ‘’Tis a dread sight.’

‘Can you send yourself out of here? Out of this … place?’

Zita shook her head. ‘I’ve already tried. I reach a wall I can’t get through. A wall made by Jack … so we are in some place made by him. Some place that uses the house as a pattern.’

Tom leaned out further.

‘Tom, there’s something out there. And this wall is all around it. But there’s something else. A deeper darkness. If we can reach that, then we will be able to find the way out.’

‘Like a disc? Like a black disc?’

Zita looked puzzled.

‘A flat, round thing?’ he said.

‘A bit like that … why?’

‘I saw something like that … When I found the place where the Captive was held. Jack sent me to the day when my parents died. And I saw this black circle hovering above me. I managed to get to it, and it sent me back to him.’

‘Do you think it might lead to him?’

‘I don’t know. He might be expecting it; he might not be.’

‘Then are we ready?’

‘I am loath to …’ Kit suddenly said. ‘I seen enough. I been enough with him. I shall stay here, an’ he will do what he will wi’ me.’

‘Kit, you mustn’t!’ Zita, despite her pain, scrambled towards him.

‘I shall not do it …’

‘Why not? It’s not Jack, is it?’