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made Anna and I decide that it was prudent to leave as quickly as possible. The more respect we showed the bogles, the more likely they would be to deal with us openly in the future.

As we cycled away, Anna asked, ‘Do you think she’s right? About being more self-sufficient, I mean?’

I shrugged. ‘In the long term, yes. But we’re not farmers. The werewolves might have come from rural locations but they aren’t used to growing their own crops. We’re doing our best and we’ve done well with cabbages and carrots. The potatoes are looking good and the soft fruits will be a godsend. Unfortunately, even with those crops, the privations will continue for some time before we can guarantee that people won’t go hungry. Yes, we’re learning but…’ I sighed.

‘But what?’

I avoided looking at her. I’d discussed this with Monroe but I’d not mentioned it to anyone else. ‘I’ve been doing some research,’ I said. ‘And some calculations. If we have good weather for the next four years, and our skills and work increase proportionally, by year five we’ll be growing enough to have a full calorie diet.’ I hesitated. ‘But those calculations don’t include magical monsters tearing through our crops or stealing the food we’ve stored.’ I gripped the handlebars more tightly. ‘We’re in a city. There are parks and allotments and gardens but it would be far easier if we had genuine farmland, not to mention some working farm machinery.’

‘You think people will start to leave before we hit that five-year mark,’ Anna guessed.

My answer was quiet. ‘I know they will. They might not want to but, when they get hungry enough, they’ll open that one door leading out of Manchester and then they won’t be able to return. Our population will dwindle, which will make it harder to maintain our crops. Then more people will make the difficult decision to leave.’ My stomach tightened at the thought. ‘Everyone here wants to make our community succeed. Everyone who is here wants to be here. But real hunger will force people out. They won’t have any choice. You can’t eat magic.’

Anna was silent for a moment. ‘For all we know,’ she said finally, ‘anyone who leaves the city will be quarantined by the government for the rest of their natural lives.’

‘Maybe,’ I agreed. ‘But their bellies will be full. If only someone had caught one of those damned pigeons, we might be in a better position. Now we have to count on Fabian Barrett, or whoever else is out there, to try and communicate with us again instead of giving up.’

‘Monroe and the other wolves might still find the hell hound and get the message from its full belly.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘but we can’t send any messages back.’ I exhaled heavily. We’d done all we could for now. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Let’s go and visit Nimue while we’re here. We can keep her happy for another couple of weeks by listening to her moans. She can regale us with her complaints about her lack of decent food.’

Anna flashed me a grin. ‘There’s nothing like a grumpy mermaid to cap off a depressing day.’

Nimue was still living in Boggart Hole, the little lake on the outskirts of the bogles’ territory. Monroe and I had transported her there after her shenanigans at the reservoir kept turning our water into blood.

As far as I knew, Nimue was the only mermaid we had; while I was grateful for that, it also meant that she was often lonely. Still, I kept my promise to her and visited her regularly to keep her company and give her a chance to let off steam. She was vicious, bloodthirsty and incredibly whiny but I was starting to like her – not that I’d admit that out loud.

On the off-chance that she was in a particularly bad mood and decided to drag one of us in to join her in the watery depths, we approached the edge of Boggart Hole cautiously. Everything seemed quiet. When I’d first come here with Nimue, there’d been ducks happily quacking away on the lake’s surface. Unsurprisingly, Nimue had scared them all off; either that, or she’d eaten them all. Whatever the reason for the birds’ absence, the lake shimmered in the late afternoon sun and the surface was as smooth as a wicked stepmother’s mirror.

‘Hey Nimue!’ I called out cheerfully.

Nothing happened.

Anna toed the edge of the water. ‘Nimue?’

From the far corner of the lake, I spotted the faintest undulation as the water rippled. I motioned towards it and Anna nodded. We both stepped back just in time. A moment later, Nimue’s hand snapped out a metre in front of us, her fingers curled in a claw-like fashion as she attempted to swipe us.

‘Hey!’ I protested. ‘There’s no need for that!’

Her blonde head appeared, breaking the surface, and she squinted. ‘Oh,’ she said, disappointed. ‘It’s just you. You’re not due here for another three days.’

‘We were in the area and thought we’d pop round. We can leave again if we’re disturbing you.’

Nimue sighed heavily, as if we were indeed interrupting her busy day. ‘You’re here now,’ she huffed. ‘You may as well stay.’

‘With a welcome like that,’ Anna remarked, ‘it’s a wonder you don’t come here more often, Charley.’

Nimue glared at her. ‘I know what sarcasm is,’ she snapped. ‘Watch it, if you want to leave here with all your limbs intact.’ She burped loudly. ‘It’s just as well I’ve already eaten today.’ She gave us a sideways look from under her eyelashes and I knew that, despite her antagonistic words, she desperately wanted us to stay.

‘How are you keeping?’ I asked.

‘Fine.’

Uh oh. If Nimue said she was fine then I reckoned things had to be disastrous. ‘What’s wrong?’

She pressed her lips together and looked away. ‘See for yourself.’ She somersaulted in the water, flicking her silvery tail upwards for a fleeting second. At first I couldn’t see anything then I realised that something was caught on her fin.

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