“That’s not true,” Harvey said. “We’re the same age.”

“But I’ve been here so long I don’t even remember…” Her voice trailed away.

“Don’t remember what?”

“Maybe I just don’t want to remember,” she said. “It’ll hurt too much…” She made along, choked sigh. “You have to go…” she said in a whisper, “…go while you still can.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then you’re stupid,” she said. “Because you should be.”

He heard the thicket shake as she started to retreat from him.

“Wait,” he said. She made no reply. “Lulu!”

The din of her departure grew louder. By the sound of it she was almost throwing herself out of his range. Breaking his promise, he opened his eyes, and caught a glimpse of her as she fled; a shadow in the shadows, no more. He started after her, not knowing what he would say or do when he caught up with her, but knowing he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t somehow help.

Maybe if he persuaded her to go with him, out of the shadow of the House, its vicious magic would be undone. Or maybe he could find some doctor for her in the outside world who could cure her of this malformation. Anything rather than leaving her to return to the lake.

Its waters were in view now, gleaming darkly between the branches of the thicket. Lulu had reached the bank, and for a moment the meager starlight found her. All that Harvey had feared was true, and more. A fin grew from her bent and scaly back, and her legs had almost fused together. Her arms had become short and stubby, her fingers webbed.

But it was her face, glimpsed as she turned back to look at him, that was the greatest shock.

Her hair had fallen out, and her nose disappeared. Her mouth had lost its lips and her blue eyes turned to swivelling silver balls, lidless and lashless. And yet, despite their freakishness, there was human feeling in those eyes, and on that mouth: a terrible sadness that he knew would never leave his heart if he lived to be a thousand.

“You were my friend,” she said as she teetered on the bank. “Thank you for that.”

Then she tumbled into the water.

He went to the edge of the lake at a dash, but by the time he reached the place from which she’d dived the ripples were disappearing and the bubbles breaking. He watched the icy waters for a minute or more, hoping she would see him and surface, but she’d gone where he couldn’t follow, and that, it seemed, was the end of it.

Clutching her gifts to him like talismans, he trudged away from the lake and down the lawn to keep his rendezvous with Wendell.

“What happened to you?” Wendell whispered when Harvey reached the bottom of the lawn. “I thought we were meeting at midnight.”

“I got…waylaid,” Harvey said.

He’d intended to tell Wendell what had just transpired, but his friend was obviously nervous enough without being told about Lulu’s fate. Harvey slipped the three survivors of the ark into his pocket and resolved only to speak of the encounter when he and Wendell were safely away from this terrible place.

Just one thing stood between them and that ambition: the wall of mist. Now, as ever, it seemed innocent enough. But that was an illusion, of course, like so many things in Mr. Hood’s kingdom.

“We have to be very organized about this,” Harvey said to Wendell. “Once we’re in the wall we lose our sense of direction. So we have to be sure we keep walking in a straight line, and not let the mist turn us around.”

“How do we do that?” said Wendell.

“I think one of us should go in first, and the other one keep hold of his hand.”

“Me,” said Wendell, eagerly. “I want to be first.”

“No problem. Then I’ll keep my back to the House, and keep guiding you. Who knows, maybe the wall’s so thin you’ll just be able to pull me through.”

“We can hope,” Wendell said.

“Are you ready?” Harvey asked, extending his hand.

Wendell took it. “Whenever you are,” he said.

“Then let’s get out of here ”

Wendell nodded, and stepped into the mist. Instantly, Harvey felt his grip tighten.

“Don’t…let…go…” Wendell said, his voice already remote although he was just a pace away.

“Just keep walking.” Harvey said, as they reached arm’s length. “Any sign of—”

Before he could finish his question a noise from the House behind him sealed his lips. He glanced back. The front door was open, and a light was burning in the hall, throwing into silhouette the figure rushing down the porch steps. It was Mrs. Griffin.

The noise he’d heard was not from her lips, however. Nothing human could make such a din. He saw Mrs. Griffin glance up toward the roof as she hurried down the lawn, and following her gaze, saw the noise-maker rising against the stars.

He knew its name, even though he couldn’t see its face. Hood had four servants, and he’d met only three: Rictus, Jive and Marr. Here was the fourth: Carna, the tooth-stealer; Carna, the devourer; Carna, the beast Mrs. Griffin had hoped Harvey would never meet.

“Back to the House, child!” Mrs. Griffin yelled as the din of vast wings filled the air, “Quickly! Quickly!”

Harvey pulled on Wendell’s arm, yelling to him as he did so, but Wendell had a whiff of freedom in his nostrils and wasn’t about to give it up.

“What are you waiting for?” Mrs. Griffin yelled. “Get away from there or it’ll take off your head!”

Harvey glanced up at the swooping beast, and knew this was no lie. Carna’s jaws were wide enough to snap him in half with a single bite. But he couldn’t leave Wendell in the mist. They’d begun this adventure together, and that was how they would finish it, dead or alive. He had no choice but to step into the mist himself, and hope that Wendell had snatched a glimpse of the world outside, and could pull him through to the street.

As he took that step, he heard Mrs. Griffin say something about leading the way; then he was blinded by the chill of the mist, and the sound of her voice became a garbled whisper.

Carna’s shrieks were not so hushed, however. They pierced the murk, skewering Harvey’s thoughts the way its teeth would skewer his head if the beast caught up with him.

“Wendell?” Harvey yelled. “It’s coming for us!”

He caught a glimpse of a figure up ahead of him, then of Wendell’s face, smeared by the mist, turning to say:

“There’s no way out!”

“There has to be!”

“I can’t find it!” Wendell said, his reply almost drowned out by the din of Carna’s shrieks.

Harvey glanced back the way he’d come, more afraid not to know how close the creature was than to see it, however terrifying the sight. A veil of mist swirled in front of him, but he glimpsed Carna’s form as the beast descended. It was the most monstrous of the brood: its skin rotted and stretched over barbed and polished bone, its throat a nest of snaky tongues, its jaws set with hundreds of teeth.

This is the end, Harvey thought. I’ve only been alive ten years and five months and I’m going to have my head bitten off.

Then, from the corner of his eye, a strange sight. Mrs. Griffin’s arms, reaching into the mist, and dropping Blue-Cat to the ground.

“He’s got a good sense of direction!” Harvey heard her say. “Follow him! Follow him!”

He didn’t need a second invitation. Nor did Blue-Cat. Tail up, it padded off, and Harvey hauled on Wendell’s arm to drag him in pursuit. The cat was quick, but so was Harvey. He kept his eyes glued on that bright tail, even when the rush of wings behind him announced that Carna had entered the mist and was almost upon them.