‘What can I do, Leana?’ Tom whispered into the lurcher’s huge floppy ears. She regarded him inquisitively with her glinting black eyes and lifted her tail, thumping it against the floor. Then she licked him, and he pushed her away, laughing.

Tom found Kit outside, wheeling some garden rubbish in a wheelbarrow, and took him aside. Kit had been exercising the horse in the field and doing odd jobs around the grounds. His hands were muddy. The boy’s silver hair glinted in the morning light, and he appeared to Tom like someone from another world, more so when he raised his head and his silver eyes shone.

Far above them a kite soared, and the light on the moat shone and rippled, the house reflected back to them.

Tom had decided. He would need Kit and Zita to distract Jack for long enough, away from the house, so he could search it thoroughly.

‘Is there ever anything that needs his attention? Outside?’

The silver-haired boy put down the wheelbarrow and scratched his face with a muddy fingernail.

‘I need your help,’ said Tom quietly.

Kit cleared his throat. Tom saw pleading in his eyes, a terrible conflict. His lips twitched.

‘Please.’ Tom touched him gently on the shoulder, and Kit flinched. Then he relaxed.

‘He don’t trouble himself so much ’bout the land.’ He wheeled the barrow onwards, continuing over his shoulder. ‘Canst ask him to inspect the wards. He’ll be shifted. Out of what he gazes at.’

Tom thought. ‘What about his keys?’

‘He don’t allus wear them on his belt. Betimes he leaves them.’

It was settled. Kit would go to Jack’s rooms when he’d finished his jobs in the garden, around tea time, and ask him to strengthen the wards with him. He would say that Tom was out in the woods somewhere. Once Kit’d given the all-clear, Tom would search the house. If Jack had left his keys, Kit would lean the wheelbarrow on the right side of the bridge.

‘And if Jack’s coming back?’

The boy smiled. ‘Leana. She’ll know. Take her with you. She allus knows.’

Tom clasped Kit’s hand, and the boy looked at him shyly, a gentle smile illuminating his face. He went into the house with Tom and disappeared off to find Jack.

Inside, Tom remembered he had not slept and was suddenly overcome with fatigue. He made for the tea things.

Zita was there, in a silvery dress with a feather boa round her neck, mixing some herbs in a pot, and Tom explained his plan.

‘I don’t know how to find the object with a glamour on it, though.’

Smoothing the cloth of her dress, Zita said, ‘Well, my darling, that’s easy. You just have to look.’

‘Don’t be facetious, Zita! This is important!’