At Jude’s insistence, Mick had shown Nat areas of the woods where he could take Woody for safe walks without getting lost. The trees grew sparse and spindly where East Wood met Diamond Bay, as the soil became sandier and thinner, making it difficult for them to thrive. Mick had been very clear that they should never leave the path, and Nat had no intention of disobeying him.

Rumors of government skulduggery still persisted. It was said by the locals that it was impossible to go very deep into the woods, because many of the areas used in the government’s shady experiments had been contaminated.

Mick had pooh-poohed any such talk. “There is no contamination,” he said bluntly. “They only say that to keep kids out, because it’s so dangerous. There’s all sorts in them woods, including deep gullies you can fall down. Not to mention the bears.”

Nat’s eyes had widened at the mention of bears.

“Oh, never mind him!” Apple had said, throwing her husband a look. “The real problem is the time it would take for emergency services to find you if you got lost.”

On their way to meet Iona de Gourney, Nat was determined to avoid the woods at all costs, so they came down into the valley from the side nearest the sea. They made for the deserted beach.

Meade Lodge stood alone, well above the shoreline, the many mullioned windows glinting in the evening sun, almost blinding the boys as they ran along the valley. Castellated towers flanked the medieval gatehouse, giving it a fairy-tale appearance — nothing at all like Nat had expected, not that he’d really known what to expect.

The boys hit a problem when they reached the massive gates. Ivy covered them in thick fronds, making Nat suspect no one had used them for years. There was no visible point of entry, no bell or latch.

“If I had a cell phone, I could call her and tell her we’re outside,” said Nat, trying in vain to peer over the top of the gates. “How about I give you a leg up? You could see if there’s any way to open them from the inside.”

Woody looked less than happy with this arrangement. “What if … there’s something horrible waiting on the other side?” he asked.

By now Nat was tired, worn-out, and about to lose his temper, big-time. “For someone who’s supposed to be a fearless fighting machine, or whatever Crescent was ranting on about, you’re doing a good impression of the Cowardly Lion,” he said.

Woody grinned sheepishly. “Promise you won’t leave me?”

Nat promised impatiently. He was just about to hoist Woody upward when he stopped in astonishment. The thick, gnarled fronds of the ivy started to move. Slowly but surely, they snaked back, eventually leaving the latch exposed.

“Someone’s pulling it!” mouthed Nat to Woody.