never thought we’d come back here,” said Lydia, as she and Caw flew side by side in the pre-dawn light. “It gives me the creeps.”

Crumb had told Caw once that the industrial quarter of Blackstone used to be called “the engine of the city”, with shift workers streaming in twenty-four hours a day, long before the financial district was built. But Blackstone didn’t make anything any more. The old brick buildings had slowly fallen into disrepair. Most had broken windows and leaking roofs with crumbling chimneys. The cobbled streets that snaked between them were never cleaned, and were traversed by a lot more rats than humans.

Caw directed the crows towards the second floor of a half-built multistorey car park a few blocks from the sewing factory – the rendezvous. They flew in, landing on an empty stretch of concrete inside. Caw waved a hand and the crows took off again – all but Shimmer, Screech and Glum.

“Do you think we’ll find him?” said Lydia, hugging herself against the cold. Her voice echoed loudly in the abandoned building. “The Spinning Man?”

Caw had been wondering the same thing as the crows carried them across the city. “Crumb’s pigeons saw convicts inside the factory.”

“I know,” said Lydia. “But what about him?”

The screech of wheels made the crows flap their wings, but it was only Racklen’s battered jeep driving up from the level below, leading a convoy of other vehicles. As soon as the jeep stopped, several pigeons landed on the bonnet.

“You sure the sewing factory is the place?” growled the wolf feral, jumping out.

“It’s not empty, I can tell you that,” said Crumb, getting down from the other side.

You want a second opinion? asked Screech. Pigeons aren’t all that reliable.

“No, stay put,” said Caw. It was a small reassurance, having his three crow companions with him.

Johnny started giving instructions as soon as he stepped out of Mrs Strickham’s car. He wanted two groups: one to enter at ground level, led by Mrs Strickham and Racklen; and one to approach the upper-floor windows from the air.

“I’ll lead the second group,” he said.

“I should lead,” said Crumb. “Your coyotes will be on the ground.”

“Thanks, Crumb,” said Johnny. “But my animals won’t be far away, trust me.”

“But—” Crumb began.

“Leave it, Crumb,” said Racklen. “Johnny knows what he’s talking about.”

Crumb flushed, but didn’t say anything else.

“What about me?” said Caw.

Johnny nodded. “You’re my right-hand man. Plus, I don’t know what this Selina girl looks like. You’ll have to point her out to me.”

“If she’s even in there,” said Crumb.

And if she’s still— Glum began.

Shush! interrupted Shimmer. Don’t listen to him, Caw.

“I never do,” said Caw, trying to smile. But he knew there was a chance Glum’s fears might prove well founded. When Selina had served her purpose, whatever that was, the Spinning Man wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

The sky was lightening to the east above the financial district.

Johnny checked his watch. “OK, everyone ready?”

As the assembled ferals nodded, a motorbike pulled up. Its leather-clad rider swung out of the seat and reached up to remove the helmet. Caw grinned when he saw Madeleine shake her raven hair free of the helmet then open a compartment at the back of the bike. Half a dozen squirrels bounded out across the asphalt.

Madeleine limped a little as she walked towards them, and opened her arms wide as she approached, smiling from ear to ear. Caw noticed Crumb beaming at her, before she walked straight past him and hugged Johnny Fivetails, kissing him on both cheeks.

“Maddie! I didn’t think you’d come,” he said.

“You know me,” she said. “I never did like a boring date.”

Crumb cleared his throat. “Hi, Madeleine,” he said, with a shy wave.

She seemed to notice him for the first time, and her face was suddenly serious. She took both his hands in hers. “I’m sorry it’s been so long, Samuel,” she said.

He smiled, and looked into her face. “I’m sorry too. I wanted to get in touch, but I didn’t know if … Well, after the accident …” He looked her up and down. “I’m so glad you’re getting better.”

“Lots of physio still,” she said. “But, hey – they said I’d never walk again.” She paused. “I missed you, Samuel.”

“All right, we’ll have time to catch up later,” said Johnny. “Maddie, you’re with Velma and the ground forces. Remember what we’re here for: to find the spider feral.”

“Then what?” asked Ali.

“Then kill him,” said Fivetails, his eyes cold.

Everyone nodded gravely, and Caw found himself doing the same. But Lydia was frowning. Maybe she was remembering the spider figure from the psychiatric hospital – how Caw had thrust his sword into its chest. Even if the Spinning Man was here, killing him might not be as straightforward as Johnny seemed to think. Would he even have a body to kill?

Caw was about to say something, but the group was already breaking up. Mrs Strickham led her team off down to ground level, followed by a dozen foxes, along with Madeleine’s squirrels, a host of dogs and raccoons, and several slithering lizards.

“Good luck,” said Lydia, before following her mother with Racklen’s wolf.

“Be careful, Pip,” said Crumb, as the mouse feral jogged to keep up with the others.

“Let’s do this,” said Johnny. He climbed on to the railing at the edge of the car park, and leapt across to the roof of the next building with easy athleticism.

Caw followed on foot, sensing the rest of his crows swooping in from above, while Crumb used his pigeons to carry both him and Ali across the gap.

Zeah, the feral with the parakeets, landed awkwardly as the birds struggled to set her down softly. “It’s been a while,” she said, stumbling.

Caw hadn’t been a part of the Dark Summer, but he wondered if this is what it had felt like. An army of ferals creeping towards their enemies.

Staying in a crouch, they moved swiftly across the rooftop. They paused at the far side of the roof, and Caw saw three coyotes slinking below. A buzzing overhead came from a swathe of bees cutting through the air. Johnny held up a hand and silently pointed out the sewing factory. Caw’s heart thumped in his chest.

The building looked even more ramshackle than last time. It was a double-storey warehouse with a cellar below, spanning the whole structure. There was barely a window intact on the upper floor – some panes were just cracked but others were missing entirely. Getting in wouldn’t be a problem.

Johnny pointed to one of the windows and mimicked flying. Caw, Zeah and Crumb summoned all the birds they could, and in a matter of seconds the rooftop ferals were being deposited safely inside.

Caw took a deep breath. They were in an old office, with sagging shelves and a desk littered with paperwork. A door led out into a corridor. Caw’s heart skipped a beat as he spotted a figure outside it watching them. But it was only a mannequin, covered in pinned scraps of cloth.

He remembered the vast hall on the floor below with hundreds of sewing machines neatly spaced on desks, but up here the rooms were partitioned as offices. There were several more mannequins, and books of fabrics, and pinboards of clothing designs. The air smelt slightly rotten, like animal droppings. There were leather sofas with blankets strewn across them. Caw saw a dark oil painting of a bearded gentleman hanging lopsided on the wall. He wondered if the man had owned this place, and what he’d think of it now. It looked like a hurricane had blown through.

Caw stepped gingerly towards the door, and the floor creaked.

Ali held up a copy of the Blackstone Gazette. “Yesterday’s,” he whispered.

As Caw passed through the doorway, he noticed claw marks on the frame. His crows lined the hallway.

Johnny clicked his fingers and pointed in different directions, indicating for them to fan out and investigate the top floor. The ferals split up and dispersed.

Caw crept along the corridor, senses tingling. In a back room, he found a map of Blackstone pinned to a board, scribbled on with marker pen. He peered closer, and saw that his house was circled. So were the psychiatric hospital and Lydia’s place. There were other marks too – maybe some of the places the convicts had robbed, or the houses and workplaces of ferals. Caw shuddered. This was a criminal gang, well organised and ruthless.

“This is definitely the place,” he muttered, as Johnny appeared at his side.

Johnny’s jaw clenched. “Hey, check out what I found.”

Caw followed him out to the end of a corridor. There was an old elevator, with an articulated steel gate.

“This will take us right down to the basement,” said Johnny. “I bet they won’t be expecting an attack from below.”

“Won’t they hear us coming?” said Caw.

“Not if we climb down the shaft,” said Johnny. “You up for it?”

Caw looked through the gaps in the steel and saw a narrow shaft descending with thick cables in the centre and pipework round the sides. A rusted service ladder was bolted to the wall.

“OK,” he said, with a tingle of excitement.

Johnny tugged back the gate. Zeah, Crumb and Ali were at the other end of the corridor. “You guys take the main stairs,” said Johnny.

Crumb frowned. “Are you sure about—”

A bloodcurdling yowl somewhere below set off a chorus of barking.

Johnny clambered on to the ladder in the shaft. “Just go!” he said. “Good luck!”

Crumb, Ali, Zeah and their animals set off at speed. Johnny was already clambering down the shaft as Caw lowered his feet on to the first rung of the ladder. Below he heard the sound of a gunshot and a ricocheting bullet, then more animal cries. His crows flooded the shaft, hopping from pipe to pipe.

Caw and Johnny climbed fast. As they reached ground level, Caw saw chaos through the elevator gate. Ferals and their animals were locked in fierce battle with each other.

A swarm of moths flashed past and landed on Madeleine’s face, blocking her vision. She scratched at them as her squirrels leapt around in panic. Mr Silk was standing on a table, arms raised in orchestration, but he screamed as a squirrel scurried up his back and sank its teeth into his neck.

A pack of foxes gripped on to the flanks of a panther as it tried to throw them off. Lydia and Pip were sheltering behind one of Racklen’s wolves, while Racklen himself was fist-fighting with Lugmann. He managed to catch the convict’s arm and hurled him across a bank of tables, smashing sewing machines on to the floor. Lugmann picked one up with a grunt and hurled it at the wolf feral, who ducked and then charged again.

Monkeys clawed at biting squirrels, and an eagle swooped low over the room with a raccoon squealing in its talons.

“We’ve got to help them!” said Caw.

“No,” said Johnny, quickly scanning the battle then beginning to climb further down the shaft. “The Spinning Man isn’t there. We should keep heading down.”

Ali had just burst through a side door and angry bees swarmed into the room. Parakeets shot through the air in a riot of colour.

Caw spotted Mrs Strickham stagger across the room. Her arm was bleeding as a vicious dog leapt at her. She dodged and caught it by the throat, falling to the ground. Then Caw saw a skinny convict with a metal bar approaching her. He had to do something. With a thrust of his hand, he sent a flock of crows squeezing through the elevator gate. As the man lifted the bar over Lydia’s mother, crows raked at his face with beaks and talons, and he stumbled back, dropping his weapon.

“Caw, come on!” said Johnny from below.

Caw took a final glance, seeing Lydia break from cover and scurry between the tables. Titus, Racklen’s wolf, was busy swatting aside more dogs. Pip had vanished, but now pigeons had entered the fray as well. They’d already grabbed one of the convicts by the legs and were hoisting him up as he gripped the edge of a table with both hands.

“Screech, Shimmer, watch Lydia,” said Caw.

The two crows flew out on to the ground floor as Caw followed Johnny, keeping only a handful of his birds with him.

At last, they reached the bottom of the lift shaft and stepped out into a gloomy basement corridor. Caw paused, straining his ears to pick out any sound.

Johnny looked both ways. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “My coyotes will be with us soon.”

He reached under his leather jacket and withdrew a gun.

“What’s that for?” asked Caw.

“What do you think?” said Johnny. “I’m not taking any chances against the spider feral.”

Caw hadn’t explored much of this area the last time he was here, but he remembered the vast warehouse room where Lydia had crossed over to the Land of the Dead. Was that where the Spinning Man had returned somehow?

It was silent, but Caw had the uneasy feeling he was being watched. Then, as they rounded a corner, he saw the cobwebs: hundreds of them strung across the hallway in thick swathes. A shudder ran down his spine.

“He’s close,” said Johnny Fivetails. Padding silently behind him came a pack of four coyotes.

Caw felt a glimmer of relief at the sight of them.

“How did they get down here?” he asked.

Johnny grinned. “Coyotes are wily creatures,” he said. “Let’s check some of these rooms – call if you find anything.” He darted off, before Caw could respond.

Should we really be splitting up? Caw wondered, but it was too late to argue.

Despite the mesh of webs, Caw couldn’t see a single spider anywhere. He pushed his hand into the silky strands and tried to brush them aside. Webbing wrapped round his forearm, clinging tight to his skin. He drew the Crow’s Beak and slashed at the strands, cutting a way through. His crows had to hop across the floor to stop themselves being smothered.

I don’t like this, said Glum, sticking close to Caw. What if it’s a trap?

“Then we’ll find out soon enough,” whispered Caw. But with every step he took, his heart told him to turn and run.

A flapping sound behind them told him Screech and Shimmer had arrived from upstairs.

“I told you to stay with Lydia,” said Caw.

She’s got a wolf, said Screech. You need us more.

We’re winning that battle anyway, said Shimmer. No sign of the Spinning Man though.

Caw’s ears picked up a faint voice from his right. He moved closer, and saw a door in the shadows.

“Help!” said someone from inside. “Who’s out there? Please!”

The voice was muffled, but Caw knew at once who it was, and his heart leapt. Selina!

“Be ready,” he commanded his crows, as he grasped the door handle. He tried to turn it, but the door was locked.

Give it a shove, said Screech.

“Please! Get me out of here!” cried Selina.

Caw slammed his boot into the lock and the door burst open. The room beyond was the same one he’d once been locked up with Crumb in – a repair workshop. There were broken sewing machines strewn across tables, lamps on workbenches, and racks of tools.

Beyond that, he could see a figure crouching in a dark corner, face turned away. It was Selina, dressed in what looked like rags, her hair coated in something white. Caw thought it might be flour or sawdust. She seemed afraid even to turn round.

“Selina?” he said gently.

She was trembling. Caw couldn’t bear to think of what might have happened to her since she had been taken from the hospital. If the Spinning Man had hurt her …

“It’s OK,” he said. “I’m here now. We’re going to get you out.”

“Where is he?” she said. “He won’t let me leave.”

“I don’t know,” said Caw. “But we can escape – if we go now.”

He crossed the room and stooped down at her side. Selina pressed herself tighter into a ball, as though she was scared of him. Her clothes were the pyjamas she’d been given in hospital, torn and streaked with dirt. As he laid a hand on her shoulder, the trembling stopped and she froze. Selina’s hair wasn’t covered in anything after all, Caw realised – it looked like it had been dyed.

“Come on,” he said. “It’s me – your friend, Caw.”

The noise that came from her throat in reply was utterly unexpected. A laugh. Soft and low and utterly chilling – and not Selina’s at all.

“I know who you are,” a voice said in an emotionless, creaking monotone. “And I knew you would come.”

Caw jerked to his feet.

She unfolded her body slowly, standing in a fluid movement that didn’t look entirely human, with her arms held straight by her sides. Her hair was white, and her face was just as pale. But her eyes were jet black, like polished pebbles. She’d only been in hospital for a couple of weeks, but Selina’s nails had grown several inches and were shaped into points, making her hands seem unnaturally long as they hung by her sides.

“Selina?” said Caw.

“That name means nothing to this body any more, Jack,” said the cold voice. “She is my vessel.”

The voice was still a girl’s – just – but the words belonged to someone else entirely. Caw’s throat was bone dry as he tried to swallow.

“It’s you,” he said.

The figure didn’t move, but her hair stirred and a long-legged spider crawled out. It scurried across her forehead and disappeared again.

“What have you done to her?” said Caw.

“I am the White Widow,” said the voice.

More spiders appeared, pouring out from beneath the workbenches. They massed round Selina’s feet in a perfect circle.

Caw lifted the Crow’s Beak in desperation. “Let her go,” he said.

A spider the size of a mouse dropped suddenly from the ceiling, and sank its fangs into Caw’s hand. He gasped in pain and dropped his sword.

“I will let her go,” said the White Widow, “but by then she won’t be much use to anyone.”

Caw felt his legs wobble unexpectedly.

You OK? asked Screech.

Caw steadied himself against a bench.

“Don’t worry,” said the White Widow. “The poison isn’t deadly. I told you, didn’t I, that I wouldn’t kill you yet. Not until I have taken everything from you.”

“I don’t understand,” said Caw, hearing his words slur.

“There are many things you will learn,” said the girl. She seemed to split into two as Caw’s vision blurred.

“Caw, move!” yelled Johnny Fivetails.

Caw turned. The coyote feral was standing in the doorway, his gun levelled.

“No!” said Caw.

Johnny darted into the room, muzzle trained on Selina. She drifted smoothly across, keeping Caw between herself and the gun.

“Out of the way, Caw,” said Johnny. Two coyotes stole in behind him.

Spiders flooded past Caw’s ankles and he staggered. Caw let his body fall, but his mind focused on one thought – his crows. A black shape knocked into Johnny’s gun as the muzzle flashed and the sound of a shot rang through the room. Then another, as Johnny tried to shake the crows off. Bullets ricocheted off the walls and floor.

“Caw, what are you doing?” he shouted.

“It’s Selina,” Caw tried to reply, but he wasn’t sure if the words even came out.

The spiders surged past Caw and on to Johnny’s legs. The coyote feral smashed Shimmer into a wall, and struck Glum aside with the butt of the gun. Caw saw Selina backed into the corner of the room with nowhere to go. Then Johnny pushed past him, loading another magazine into his gun. Caw grabbed feebly at his leg, but it was no good. Johnny raised the barrel at Selina from point-blank range. She lifted her hands over her face.

With one last surge of energy, Caw lunged up into Johnny’s side, shoulder first. The coyote feral and Caw stumbled through the open doorway and sprawled on the ground, crushing hundreds of spiders as they fell.

“Kill her!” shouted Johnny.

Then Caw heard a terrible snarling and the crash of furniture overturning. He turned groggily and the room tipped on its head.

No, it wasn’t the room. Selina – the White Widow – was on all fours, moving up the wall as one of the coyotes swiped at her with its paw. Another gunshot missed as she scurried upside down across the ceiling over their heads. Then she dropped on to the ground beside them and ran out of the door.

Johnny shoved Caw off him and scrambled into the corridor after her. Caw tried to crawl forwards but his limbs felt heavy and clumsy.

The coyote feral was wildly firing shots into the webbing hanging from the ceiling, and more coyotes tore at it with their claws.

Caw grabbed weakly at Johnny’s ankles.

“Get off me, Caw!” said Johnny. “She’s getting away.” He dragged his leg free and ran to the elevator shaft. He fired three more shots directly upwards. Selina must have fled that way.

“What was that thing?” asked a voice behind them.

Caw, close to passing out, twisted his neck and saw the other ferals spilling into the hallway. Mrs Strickham led the way with her foxes. Crumb and Racklen came on either side. They looked exhausted, panting with the effort of the fight, clothes torn and dishevelled.

Johnny let the gun hang at his side.

“That was the new spider feral,” he said. “And thanks to our friend here, she escaped.” He glared at Caw.

“She?” asked Madeleine.

Caw wanted to speak, but his head was spinning and nausea made him want to retch.

Crumb rushed down the hallway. “Police!” he said. “We need to get out of here.”

“Everyone, back to the car park!” yelled Mrs Strickham.

Caw wobbled to his feet, and Lydia rushed to his side.

“Call your crows,” she said.

They came at once, summoned wordlessly, shooting down the elevator shaft and along the corridor. Ferals scrambled in every direction as the sound of sirens and then the pounding of boots came from above. Caw could barely walk so he let his crows carry him up a stairway. They emerged from a side door into fresh air, rising fast into the sky. From above he saw police vans and spinning lights, and armed cops encircling the building. Crows and pigeons carried several of the other ferals to safety.

As they landed in the car park beside their vehicles, the coyote feral came right up to Caw and shoved him back against a wall. His hand pressed against Caw’s throat and he drew back his other fist.

“Get off him!” said Lydia.

Caw braced himself, but Racklen caught the coyote feral’s arm before he could deliver the punch.

Johnny’s face twisted, and Caw felt the hand on his neck tighten for a few seconds. He could sense Johnny’s anger like static in the air. Then the coyote feral let go and backed off with a growl.

A wolf moved to stand between him and Caw.

“What the hell were you doing?” shouted Johnny. “I had a clear shot. You could have got us both killed!”

Caw breathed heavily as another wave of sickness passed. At last he found his voice. “It was Selina,” he said.

The news registered on Johnny’s face, and his features smoothed as the anger seeped away. “That was your friend?” said Johnny. “The spider feral?”

“Caw, are you sure?” said Crumb.

Caw looked at each of their faces. He was glad to see that, despite torn clothes and the odd cut, all the ferals seemed unharmed.

“It was Selina,” he said. “She’d changed. Her hair, her eyes …” he shuddered involuntarily, “but it was her.”

“But she’s the spider feral!” said Johnny. “That means she must be the Spinning Man’s child.”

Caw shook his head. His mind was still a jumble, but he knew who he’d spoken to down there. “No, that’s not quite right. It’s the Spinning Man himself – he’s inside her, somehow. He called her the White Widow.”

“How can she be the Spinning Man and the White Widow?” said Zeah, the parakeet feral.

“Exactly,” said Racklen. “If she’s the spider feral, she’s not your friend any more.”

“And you just threw away the best chance we’ll ever have of taking her out,” added Johnny.

Several of Crumb’s pigeons swooped down and landed on Mrs Strickham’s car roof. One let out a series of coos, and Crumb sighed. “The spider feral is gone,” he said.

Johnny Fivetails slammed a bunched fist on to the bonnet of a car three times, then turned and sank to his haunches against the wheel arch. He pushed a lock of hair back from his sweating forehead.

“Nice work, Caw,” he said.