‘When will I see you again?’ Callum asked.
‘If you need me, if you need anything, you know where to find me. But perhaps’ – Jacob gave his wistful smile – ‘perhaps there will be a brief time for us both to rest, before the Shadowing is upon us.’ He nodded to Melissa. ‘Translator, you will be welcome too. With or without the chime child. Thank you.’
Melissa stared at the ghost, surprise showing in her big eyes. ‘What for?’
For the first time, Jacob’s voice was so quiet it didn’t echo.
‘You aren’t afraid of me,’ he said. ‘You never were.’
‘I’ll go with you,’ said Melissa softly. ‘At least, I mean I’ll leave now too. Give Callum and his gran some peace, I think.’
Jacob crossed the room to the door and waited. After an awkward few seconds Callum realised that he was waiting for someone to open the door for him.
‘Can’t you just float through?’ he asked, only half joking.
‘Not this door,’ Jacob said. ‘Your grandmother has it wreathed with spells.’
Callum held the door open for Jacob and Melissa. On the front path, Doom sat waiting, silent and still.
‘There you go.’
Jacob faced Callum.
‘Tell me to leave. You should not allow any spirit free access to your home. If I come back, you may invite me in again.’
Callum grinned. ‘Leave my house,’ he ordered. ‘And don’t darken this doorstep again.’
Jacob’s pale features relaxed into his faint smile. Callum smiled back. Then Jacob bowed, just as he’d done before entering. He stepped over the threshold and into the night, Melissa walking at his side. But Jacob turned back to Callum once more.
‘One final thing, Callum. Do not tell your grandmother about me.’
‘Why not?’
‘Imagine how she’ll react if you tell her a ghost has penetrated all her magical barriers and entered her cottage! I didn’t do anything to defeat the Fetch; you and Melissa and Doom did all the battling yourselves. Leave me out of the story.’ Jacob paused. ‘Besides, women don’t like to think about lost children. It makes them sad.’
Jacob’s eyes began to leak the strange, black blood, like dark tears glistening on his white cheeks in the moonlight.
‘Farewell, Callum,’ he said. ‘Until our next meeting.’
Then the ghost and the black dog slowly faded from view, leaving Melissa standing by herself in the empty garden, quiet in the moonlight. Nothing told of the last hour’s terror and struggle against the Netherworld, except perhaps the open gate: a boundary waiting to be crossed.
The time of the Shadowing was about to begin.
Melissa walked out on to the lane and closed the gate firmly behind her.
‘We’ll meet again on Monday morning,’ she said firmly. ‘At school.’
‘See you,’ Callum said, and watched her set off fearlessly up the moonlit road through Marlock Wood.
Callum turned back to the brightly lit cottage and shut the door. Gran was sitting up, one hand to her head, frowning a little.
‘What am I doing on the floor?’ she asked crossly. ‘Oh, Callum, what’s happened to your face!’
‘Gran!’ Callum cried out with relief, and ran to her.
‘That thing -’ Gran reached towards Callum with both arms. ‘Did that monster do that to you – is it here?’ She looked around wildly.
‘No, Gran, no,’ Callum said, kneeling by her side and putting an arm around her shoulder. ‘We destroyed it. We’re safe.’
‘Safe!’ Gran repeated incredulously. She looked Callum in the eye, their faces close together, understanding. ‘We’re not safe.’
‘We’re safe tonight,’ Callum assured her. ‘But you’re right, Gran. The Shadowing is about to begin.’
Then he added with fierce determination, ‘And I’m going to beat it.’
Epilogue
The room is dark, but for the open fire. Alone and pacing before the flames, a man waits. Everything about him is restless. He runs his hands through his hair, then crosses his arms and sighs. He stamps one foot as he pivots, back and forth, back and forth, up and down the dark room. Every now and then he stares intensely at the fire. Seeing nothing, he continues his relentless pacing.
Up and down the room. Another sigh. Another glance at the fire.
The man stops. Suddenly, in the flames, he sees the sign he is watching for. The fire has changed. Its flames have turned violet – a bright, cold, blue-purple, the colour of black light. The white cuff at the man’s wrist and the jewel set in his ring glow unnaturally in the strange light. Everything else is cast into darkness.
In the depths of the blue and purple flames, a face appears. Its features are all wrong – ruby-red eyes too far apart to be human, the pupils slitted like a goat’s, pointed teeth that are pitted like pumice stone.
The man nods to the evil face. It is a greeting. He shows no sign of fear or surprise that a monster has appeared in his fire. This is what he was expecting, what he has been waiting for. But he is fearful about what he has to report to the demonic face. He is the bearer of bad news.
The demon’s voice is like the hiss of water thrown into a blaze.
‘Well?’
The man answers reluctantly. ‘Our assassin has been destroyed.’
‘How so?’
‘A Grim.’
The demon’s features writhe. Having no visible body to shrug its shoulders with, it shows its indifference with a twist of its mouth.
‘One Fetch matters little,’ the demon spits. ‘It was a vain and shallow creature. The Hunter! But it has performed its task well. The chime children are dead and still the mortals live in ignorance of the shadow realm, imagining its beings are merely the stuff of folk tale and nightmare.
‘When the Shadowing comes,’ the creature continues, ‘and the boundaries are open, with the chime children gone there will be no resistance to our army. We will fix the gateways between the worlds so that they will remain open forever. The realm of mortals will be ours for the taking.’
The man shifts uncomfortably on his feet, his hands behind his back, like a soldier facing a superior officer.
‘Not all the chime children have been slain,’ he reveals.
The demon pauses dangerously.
‘How many remain?’
The man hesitates.
‘One.’
The demon laughs, a sound of spitting sparks, like drops of water sizzling in hot oil.
‘One!’ The glowing red eyes crinkle with amusement. ‘One!’ The demon howls with laughter again. ‘What is one? Rest easy, friend. One chime child against all the demon force of the Netherworld? They will be as a pebble before the tide.’
The demon’s laughter dies away.
‘Prepare yourself. We are coming.’