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it all on a laptop, but I guess there’s no power there.’
    ‘Shouldn’t think so,’ Ben agreed.
    ‘And you don’t want to be carrying a stack of batteries round the place.’
    ‘No, they won’t.’ Mrs Bailey’s voice echoed down the stairs. Moments later she appeared, holding a tray with drinks on it. ‘They’ll have quite enough to carry as it is. I’ve put everything into a couple of rucksacks, though what you’ll do with the sword is another matter.’
    ‘Sword?’ Webby asked.
    ‘Doesn’t matter,’ Ben said, helping himself to a glass of milk from the tray. ‘Thanks.’
    Rupam had milk too. Mrs Bailey had brought mugs of steaming coffee for herself and Webby.
    ‘Madam Sosostram will take you to Templeton,’ Mrs Bailey told Ben and Rupam. ‘I need to get in touch with Captain Morton again. There’s an air exclusion zone over the village anyway, but he’s extending that to include the military. The last thing we want is army helicopters and planes crashing into Grotesques or wind demons. And someone has to keep this place in order.’
    ‘There’s no sign of any aerial demons on the satellite images,’ Rupam said, turning to look.
    ‘There wouldn’t be. It doesn’t have a filter like your phone. I’ve got some readings here that are a bit dodgy, though,’ Webby said, beating out a staccato rhythm on his keyboard.
    ‘Careful!’ Mrs Bailey called.
    ‘What?’ Rupam turned back.
    Ben couldn’t see what Mrs Bailey was warning them about either. But as Rupam turned again towards the screen showing the images from the satellite, his hand caught Webby’s coffee cup, knocking it over.
    The steaming liquid splashed over Webby’s jeans. Ben expected him to leap up in pain, swearing and angry. But he seemed not to notice, still typing away.
    ‘I’ll get a cloth,’ Mrs Bailey said.
    ‘Sorry. But it’s moved,’ Rupam said.
    They could all hear the urgency in his voice. Even Webby turned to look.
    ‘What’s moved?’ Ben asked.
    Rupam pointed to a hedge that crossed the road at one side of the screen. ‘Here – it’s moved slightly, I’m sure. And it’s bigger than it was.’
    ‘I haven’t changed the zoom,’ Webby said.
    As he stood up, he seemed to notice the spilt coffee for the first time, brushing it off his jeans with irritation. Ben stepped back as Webby pushed past him. It wasn’t just the cellar that smelt – Ben had caught a whiff of Webby himself. He stank . Not the usual pungent smell of sweat, but a sweet, almost sickly odour.
    ‘I’m sure it’s different,’ Rupam was saying as Webby examined the picture.
    ‘Can you rewind or something?’ Ben wondered. ‘Then we can see if there’s a difference.’
    ‘Better than that, I can play back a sequence of all the images since it came online.’ Webby returned to his computer.
    ‘Like time-lapse photography?’ Mrs Bailey asked. ‘Speeding up flowers opening, that sort of thing?’
    The images started to play through, like a jerky video.
    ‘Not just flowers,’ Ben said.
    Rupam was right. The hedge had moved and grown thicker. But it was not just that hedge. As they watched, the vegetation round the edge of the village thickened and moved, pressing inwards. Slowly but surely, the greenery was advancing on the centre of the village, blocking the roads andfields, cutting it off from the outside world. A mass of trees, shrubs, hedges, ivy – all types of vegetation – moving inexorably inwards.
    ‘I think we should get going,’ Ben said.
    ‘What was it in Knight’s letter – the warning from the old woman they met?’ Sam said quietly. She was standing right beside him and Ben hadn’t noticed.
    Rupam hadn’t heard Sam, but he was making the same connection. ‘That’s what it means,’ he said. ‘Beware the green.’

Chapter 8
    B EN WONDERED IF MADAM SOSOSTRAM COULD drive. Mrs Bailey had said simply that the old woman would take them to Templeton village, but had given no indication of how she was going to