Crowden waved a hand at Grype. ‘Take the creature back to its cell.’ ‘I wonder if I might stay,’ the librarian squeaked. ‘Perhaps I can be of service.’ ‘Mother Inglethorpe will render me any service I deem necessary. Now hurry along.’ Grype flushed red. ‘But I have earned my place here. My discovery—my … ’ ‘Do not be foolish. Go now before my patience runs dry.’ Grype avoided the laughing eyes of Esther Inglethorpe. He took hold of Simon Lydgate under the arms and dragged him roughly towards the curtained doorway. ‘Take care with my prize, little librarian,’ Crowden snapped. ‘Very soon, I shall be sending him out into the world. To use a modern phrase, it is time to shake things up.’ The witch and the boy disappeared and Crowden turned back to the mirror. ‘My spy arrives.’ Feature by feature, a face formed out of the shadows. Long, blonde hair—fair complexion—cupid’s bow lips—sea-green eyes. The image of the girl haunted the mirror. ‘I am here, Master Crowden.’ ‘And what have you to tell me?’ The spy’s gaze flickered between Crowden and Esther Inglethorpe.
