Sitting at the kitchen table with Jude was a cowering Alec Tate. Mick was surprised; Alec Tate was the last person he had expected to see again. And by the way Alec was avoiding his gaze, this was going to be bad news.

“You’d better tell him everything,” said Apple icily.

Haltingly, Alec told his story. Mick listened in silence as he spilled everything: from agreeing to hide Woody at the farm to Ophelia’s strange vision. When he had finished, he glanced nervously at Mick and braced himself for a hiding.

But Mick’s conscience was troubling him, too. He sat down heavily.

“I gotta take my own share of the blame,” he said with a sigh. “A few years ago, I was up at East Wood doing a spot of poaching. It was a red moon that night, a harvest moon, and it was a cracker. The woods was all aglow: It was like the trees were alight. I can remember thinking it was a bit creepylike, as I was on me own. Then I heard something I don’t never want to hear again, as long as I live.”

“What was it?” asked Alec, agog.

“It was a bloody gert werewolf,” said Mick. “A big black ‘un, caught in a trap. It was making this horrible sort of keening sound, and it got right inside my head. I was all for shootin’ it; puttin’ it out of its misery. Then the blighter spoke to me. Good job I had me brown corduroys on! Anyways, I saved his foot, and he beggared off.”

“Did you report it?” asked Alec Tate.

“Who’d-a believed me?” asked Mick glumly. “Things like that are best kept to yourself.”

“I hope you realize you’ve put Nat in terrible danger by keeping your secrets,” said Jude bitterly. “And you wondered why I couldn’t wait to leave Temple Gurney! If anything has happened to him …”

“Woody’s not a werewolf,” said Alec. “He’s harmless, even I know that now.”

“I know!” shouted Jude. “It’s not Woody I’m worried about!”

Mick hung his head. “Apple knew Woody was more than he seemed even before she discovered the tattoo. But you know how she has a gift for such things; I swear she knew he was harmless.”

“Like I said, anyone can tell Woody isn’t a werewolf,” said Jude, exasperated. “You don’t have to be a witch to know that.” She glared at Apple, then turned her attention back to Alec.

“Ophelia’s certain they’ve gone to Helleborine Halt?” she asked.

“I told you,” said Alec, “she saw some sort of … vision in her mind. Saw ‘em being chased through East Wood. An’ she said what was chasing ‘em weren’t human. She’s gone straight up there. Wouldn’t wait, in case you didn’t believe me.”

Mick was standing now. “She armed?”

Alec flashed his dentures for the first time that day. “To the teeth.”