Lily froze. Something was in the compartment with her, something she was certain hadn’t been there when she’d joined the train at Pyecombe. The scrabbling sound suggested an animal trying to dig its way out through the floor beneath the bench where she sat. Her first thought was that it was a rat, but then it started muttering to itself so it clearly that it couldn’t be an animal.

Much as she dreaded the thought, she knew she’d soon have to confront whatever had chosen to share her journey with her.

Heart thundering, she cautiously began to stand. If it wasn’t a rat, what on Earth could it be?

A Varmint!

The creature sprang at her, halting less than a foot from her face, held aloft by rapidly beating leathery wings that wafted a stench of rotten flesh into Lily’s nostrils. Enormous bulging eyes glared at her; saliva drooled from the sides of its hooked beak, down onto its lichen-green skin.

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