Rose wanted to laugh.

Not because any of this was the least bit funny, but because it was strange and terrible and wrong.

My uncle is a dragon, she thought. My aunt is a witch. I wonder if I’m a – a goblin. Or a troll!

That made her want to laugh even more. She let out a muffled squeak, and Flax whispered in her ear, ‘Shh. She’s got the Spellhounds with her.’

And suddenly Rose didn’t feel like laughing.

Aunt Delilah strolled up to the bars of the cell with a different torch in her hand. She looked pleased with herself.

The Spellhounds didn’t.

They sagged and limped. And when they saw their pup behind bars, they sagged and limped even more.

‘You see?’ said Rose’s aunt. ‘He is unharmed. And he will continue to be unharmed … as long as you do my bidding.’

The pup crept towards the bars. ‘Mother?’ he whined. ‘Father?’

They looked at him but said nothing.

‘So, do we have an agreement?’ asked Aunt Delilah.

The Spellhounds’ noses almost touched the ground.

‘Yes,’ said the pup’s mother.

‘Yes,’ said his father.

‘Um – Aunt Delilah?’ said Rose. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I am making Hallow safer,’ said her aunt. ‘Now be quiet, Felicia. Practise your deportment. If you are very good, I will bring you cake.’

To the Spellhounds, she said, ‘Come.’ And she walked away.

They followed her. But just before they disappeared into one of the tunnels, the pup’s father looked back over his shoulder and fixed his eyes on Flax.

‘I am sorry,’ he said.

Then he followed the Lady down the tunnel and out of sight.

Ah, the Spellhounds.

Such gallant creatures.

Despite the iron collars, they had held out against the Lady for days.

They could not harm her or escape from her. But they had refused to bow to her demands.

They had refused her bribes. They had refused her food.

But now she had them. How could they disobey when she held their pup’s life in her hands?