This time there were no maidservants. The constant background hum of machinery and cars that could be heard even in the fields at Mundham was a dream. Tom’s heart lifted. He saw that across the field a carpet of blue and white flowers was opening its petals to the sun. The blue flowers. He wondered what they meant.

‘All the servants are gone,’ said Jack. ‘I sent them all away. All but for Kit.’

And suddenly there was Kit, with his black hair, and there was the younger version of Jack, standing by him, his hand on his shoulder. They had a sack, from which poked some iron bars and other things. The younger Jack sported a sword at his belt.

‘Watch.’ As he stood at Tom’s side, Jack’s breath was heavy. Tom kept expecting Kit and the younger Jack to notice them. It was strange: he could feel everything around him, but he knew that he was not imprinting the stones or the air with anything of himself. It was almost as if they were in a bubble: a capsule, floating through time.

‘Master,’ said Kit. Tom was surprised by how gentle and smooth his voice was. ‘I shall not do it. I shall not take any of Them.’ A wood pigeon cooed and fluttered its wings. The sound of someone chopping wood came from far off.

‘Dost deny me, Christopher Last? Dost deny thy master?’ Jack held Kit’s face in his hand and gazed at him deep in the eyes.

For a moment Kit seemed to shrink. His shoulders sagged. He placed the sack down and its contents clanged. There was a smell of woodsmoke in the air.

He said simply, ‘I cannot do it, Master.’

Jack released him and cursed once.

‘Thou hast the gift, Christopher Last. Thou hast the gift and thou knowst I have need of thee.’

‘I cannot do it.’ Tom was amazed at Kit’s firmness. Even when Jack drew his sword and held it at Kit’s throat, Kit simply pushed it away, knelt and closed his eyes.

‘End my life here, and I shall make my peace with my Lord. Forgive me, O God, for I have sinned.’ He crossed himself.

That seemed to make Jack laugh, and he placed his sword carefully back into its scabbard. Kit opened his eyes. Tom saw his throat was shivering, and tears were flowing down his cheeks.

Jack made a gesture, muttered some words and drew a small circle in the air. A silver ring appeared, floating, between Jack and Kit.

‘Devilry,’ Kit sobbed. ‘O Jesu, save me!’ The silver ring floated towards him, solidifying as it did so, and then settled on Kit’s wrist. He screamed in pain. ‘Sorcerer! Servant of Beelzebub!’

‘Shalt come along with me now. Thou dost not ken of what thou speakst.’

The older Jack, by Tom’s side, had not moved or changed his expression.