Chapter 13

The winter was late to leave that year, and there was a hard cold snap when spring ought to have been on the way. So it was nearly freezing one night as Herb drove the cart into Jonathan’s yard and unhitched his horse from it.

“That was pretty fun,” he said.

“Yes, it was. Will you be over for dinner tomorrow?”

“You know I will, I…” he was cut off by a loud whinny from the horse. It was looking towards Herb’s farm. Herb spun around. He could only just make out his farmhouse through the fields and trees, but it was immediately obvious that it was on fire. “Oh no!” He started as if to run towards it. Then he froze and his voice this time was flat with dread. “Oh no.”

Jonathan looked closer, and realized that there were dark shapes moving in front of the fire. Unfamiliar shapes, shapes that weren’t human.

“Get inside,” snapped Herb. “Now!” he added when Johnathan didn’t move immediately. “And make sure your mother is inside and stays there!”