At first glance, they seemed like any other group of young friends. Looking closer, you would see that one of them, a willowy girl with long black hair and an unearthly gleam in her eyes, was carrying a short sword in a sheath around her waist. The girl with whom she was walking arm in arm, sported an old-fashioned haircut as if she was on her way to a 1920s themed ball. She was twirling a string of pearls around her neck and smiling as she spoke.

Behind them, walking slightly apart, were two teenaged boys. One, with his blond hair shaggier than it had ever been, was limping slightly, dressed in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. The other was all in black. But what was even more striking about him was his hair, which was black as a raven’s feather, and his eyes, which were blue and animated, though he looked tired and pale and as if he hadn’t eaten in a long time. Sometimes he leaned on his companion and they halted frequently, as he clutched at his chest in apparent pain.

In the near distance, on the mound, a shadowy figure stood, watching and listening, raising its hand as if to show that all was well.

Zita paused, letting her pearls rest against her neck, and removed her arm from Tanenwod’s. ‘The sun’s setting.’ She turned to the Samdhya, puckering her forehead. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I was waiting for you. I knew you were here, I knew it. Maybe that’s partly why I found my way here, all those years ago.’

‘Zita Ravenswood. My brother’s grand-daughter. My great-niece. I never knew you. But I saw you. And I see my brother in you.’ Tanenwod smiled tenderly.

‘He never talked about you. I suppose people didn’t talk about things they didn’t understand. Do they still do that, Tommy boy?’

Behind them, Tom shrugged.

Margaret Ravenswood, whose name amongst the Samdhya was Tanenwod, reached out to stroke the line of Zita’s cheek and for a moment held her hand there. Then she sighed. ‘I must return to the Wildmark. Tonight we must begin repairing what James has wrought. It will be a long, hard task.’

She gazed across into the woods. As Zita turned away, Tanenwod caught her by the wrist. ‘Zita, you could come with me. You could become like us. There is so much we see, so much we do. You have looked into my eyes. You need only look for a little longer and you will change,’

Zita glanced back at Tom and Kit, who were throwing sticks to Leana. The lurcher was catching them and zooming about in lunatic circles. ‘I have work to do here.’