Epilogue
Three days later, on Sunday morning, the now-familiar gathering of energy built and built in the middle of Mrs Grant’s primrose sitting room. They were having a post-church, pre-lunch sherry.
Will caught Alec’s anxious look. His face clearly said do you have any idea what’s going on? Next to him, Fenn was humming along to the faintly audible singing under his breath when Will spared him a glance. He looked relaxed and happy.
Will shook his head at Alec and said, “I think it’s friendly,” which was as much as he was prepared to commit to at this point.
“Will, dear?” his mother started to say…and then there was a percussive pop, a wave of pressure that Will felt against his eardrums, and the light and the singing was gone.
They had been replaced by Ana.
Ana fell to their han
