“I’m not lying.”

“You were not in the woods. You were not in any area that the Council has given you approval to be.”

I try to look innocently surprised.

“In fact, we could not find you anywhere at all.”

“You’re mistaken. I was in the local woods.”

“No. I am not mistaken. And, as I said before, it is a serious offence to lie to the Council.”

I’m still holding his gaze, and I repeat, “I was in the woods.”

“No.” Soul doesn’t sound angry, more bored and unimpressed.

The Council Leader holds her hand up. “Enough.”

Soul looks from me to his fingernails and reclines in his chair.

The Council Leader calls to the guard at the back of the room, “Bring Mrs. Ashworth in.”

The latch rattles and Gran’s footsteps approach slowly. I turn to look at her when she is standing beside me, and I’m shocked to see a small and frightened old woman.

The Council Leader speaks. “Mrs. Ashworth. We have asked you here so that you can answer the accusations leveled against you. Serious accusations. You have failed to comply with notifications of the Council. The notifications clearly state that the Council must be informed if there is any contact between Half Codes and White Witches and White Whets. You failed to do this. You also failed to prevent the Half Code from moving to unauthorized areas of the country.”

The Council Leader looks down at her papers and then up again at Gran. “Have you anything to say?”

Gran is silent.

“Mrs. Ashworth. You are the Half Code’s guardian and it is your responsibility to ensure that the notifications are followed. You have failed to ensure that the Half Code remained in certified areas and you have failed to inform the Council of meetings between the Half Code and the White Witches Kieran, Niall, Connor, and Annalise O’Brien.”

“My grandmother doesn’t know about anything. And I had no intention of meeting Kieran, Niall, and Connor. They attacked me.”

“Our understanding is that you attacked them,” the Council Leader replies.

“One attacking three. Yeah, right.”

“And Annalise? Did you intend to meet her?”

I go back to staring.

“Did you intend to meet Annalise? Or attack her? Or something else?”

I want to kill her with my stare.

The Council Leader turns back to Gran. “Mrs. Ashworth, why did you ignore the notifications?”

“I didn’t ignore them. I followed them.” Gran’s voice is shaky and small.

“No. You did not follow them. You have failed to control the Half Code. Or perhaps you knew of his trips to unauthorized places and decided not to inform the Council of these infringements?”

“I followed the notifications,” Gran repeats quietly.

The Council Leader sighs and nods to Annalise’s uncle, who pulls out a piece of parchment from under the desk. He reads out times and dates of when I left home, where I went, and when I returned. Every trip to Wales.

I feel sick. I was so sure that I had not been followed. But there is no mention of the trip to see Mary. Her instructions worked, but clearly my disappearance aroused suspicion.

“Do you deny that you made these trips outside authorized areas?” the Council Leader asks.

I don’t want to admit anything still, but denying it seems pointless now. “My gran didn’t know what I was doing. I told her I was going to the woods, where I am authorized to be.”

The woman says, “So you admit you failed to comply with the notifications. You lied to the Council. You deceived your own grandmother, a pure White Witch.”

Annalise’s uncle says, “Yes, it is clear that he has tried to deceive us all. But it is Mrs. Ashworth’s responsibility to ensure compliance with the notifications. And”—he pauses now to look at the Council Leader who inclines her head slightly—“as Mrs. Ashworth has clearly failed to do that, we will have to appoint someone who can.”

At that moment a huge woman steps forward from the far corner of the room. I had noticed her before but I thought she was a guard. She comes to stand to the left of the table. Despite her size she moves with grace, and though she stands straight, almost to attention, she has a poise that is strange, as if she’s a cross between a dancer and a soldier.

The Council Leader produces another parchment from beneath the table saying, “We agreed to a new resolution yesterday.” She reads slowly:

“Notification of the Resolution of the Council of White Witches of England, Scotland, and Wales.

“All Half Codes (W 0.5/B 0.5) are to be educated and supervised at all times only by those White Witches who have the approval of the Council.”

“He is educated under my supervision. I am a White Witch. I am teaching him well.” Gran’s voice is timid. It is almost as if she is talking to herself.

The Council Leader says, “Mrs. Ashworth, it is clear that you have failed to comply with at least two of the notifications of the Council. Punishments have been considered.”

Considered? What does that mean? What would they do to her?

“But the Council agrees that we are not here to punish White Witches. We are here to assist and protect them.”

The Council Leader starts reading from the parchment she holds. Annalise’s uncle is looking bored and studying his fingernails; the woman in the gray suit is looking at the Council Leader.

I can’t dodge past the guards behind me, but there is a door in the far wall through which the Council members enter the room.

The Council Leader reads on, but my attention is not on her. “. . . and we realize that the task . . . too onerous. The new notification . . . relieve you of the burden . . . the education and development of a Half Code . . . not to be taken lightly . . . monitored and controlled.”

I run for the far door, leaping onto the table between the Council Leader and the woman in gray. I jump from the table to shouts from the guards and the Council Leader reaches a hand out too late to grab my leg. It is five or six strides to the door and I’m clear of them all. Then the noise hits me.

A high-pitched whirring sound fills my head so suddenly that I’m unable to do anything but clamp my hands over my ears and scream. The pain is excruciating. I am on my knees, staring at the door, unable to move. I scream for the noise to stop, but it carries on to blackness.

Silence.

I’m on the floor, snot running out of my nose, my fingers still in my ears. I must have been unconscious less than a minute. The big guard/dancer woman’s black army boots are near my face.

“Get up.” Her voice is quiet, soft.

I wipe my nose on the back of my hand and shakily get to my feet.

The woman is wearing green canvas trousers and a heavy army-style camouflage jacket. Her face is so plain that she can only be called ugly. Her skin is pockmarked and lightly tanned. She has a wide mouth and fat lips. Her eyes are blue, with a few small silver glints. She has short, white eyelashes. Her blonde hair is short, spiky, and thin, barely covering her scalp. She is, I guess, about forty years old.

“I’m your new teacher and guardian,” she says.

Before I can react she turns from me and nods to the guards, who lift me up by my arms and carry me out of the room. I fight as best I can but my feet don’t even touch the ground. Between my struggles and the thick arm and chest of a guard I catch a glimpse of Gran. Tears are in her eyes and her cardigan is off one shoulder as if someone pulled her or held her back. Now she is just standing alone, looking lost.

I’m carried off down the corridors and outside into a paved courtyard where a white van is parked, its rear doors open. I’m thrown inside. Before I can scramble to my feet a knee is in my back pinning me down and my wrists are being handcuffed behind me. Then I’m dragged farther into the van and thick fingers, her fingers, put a collar round my neck. I spit and curse and receive a hard slap on the back of my skull. My head swims. The collar is chained closely to a ring in the van’s floor.