Tom felt a stab of guilt in his gut. ‘I didn’t mean to tell on you – I don’t know what you were doing. I don’t care. I’m not his spy.’

Kit turned away and bent over the porridge pot. From upstairs there were rumbles, as if Zita were stomping round her room.

The bird scarers that he had heard the day before were going already. Insistent, thumping.

‘I’m not here to watch you, I promise.’

But Kit just ladled a bowl of porridge for himself and tilted his chin in the direction of the table.

A few minutes later, Jack stalked in. The atmosphere thickened. Tom saw Kit’s shoulders tense. There was an array of decanters on a tray on the sideboard, and Jack opened one and poured out a small measure of dark wine, indicating to Tom that he should have one too.

‘Well rested, are you?’

Tom nodded and took a deep gulp of his tea.

‘You won’t have a drink?’

‘Tea … tea’s what I usually have in the morning.’

‘No? No, well, I will have it on my own.’ He smiled darkly and took the wine in one go.

The last remnant of Tom’s family, standing in front of him, swigging port wine. Once again he saw his father’s face in the angles of Jack’s, and it caused an ache in his stomach.

A sudden high-pitched noise came from outside. Jack looked up, startled, and an ugly grimace passed over his face.

Kit dropped the cloth he was carrying and ran to the window, saying, ‘I did not hear him, Master.’ Tom joined him. ‘I did not feel him.’ He pulled the chain from his pocket and held the glass pendant up to his eye. ‘I cannot see him here.’

‘They must have learnt of your device. We will have to find some other way of seeing them.’

A dark figure, cloaked, was standing on the other side of the moat.

‘Master …’ said Kit. ‘By the bridge …’

‘I can see, Kit. I can see well enough.’ Jack’s voice was level, but full of something that threatened to spill out into fury. ‘How dare he come to the bridge!’

‘Who is it? The one who shot at us?’ Tom’s voice shook.

‘One of them. One of the Samdhya. I do not recognise him.’

The Samdhya lifted a hand. A ball of burning light formed in it.

‘He has broken the wards! Was this your work, Kit, at the ash tree?’

‘Nay, Master, nay!’

Grinning, the Samdhya hurled the ball of light towards the house. They watched it sear through the air like a comet.

Kit gasped as if he had been hit in the stomach, and there was a shattering sound. They rushed through the door, Jack moving surprisingly fast.

In the hall, shards of glass were scattering. The entire window had blown inwards.