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There was no reply. Just the deep silence that comes to the marshes when a blanket of snow covers the bogs and quags, silences their gurgles and gloops and sends all the slimy creatures back into the stillness of the mud.

“Now we’ve lost that nice Boggart because of your stupid animal,” Marcia told Silas crossly. “I don’t know why you had to bring him.”

Silas sighed. Sharing a canoe with Marcia Overstrand was not something he had ever imagined he would have to do. But if he had, in a mad moment, ever imagined it, this was exactly how it would have been.

Silas scanned the horizon in the hope that he might be able to see Keeper’s Cottage, where Aunt Zelda lived. The cottage stood on Draggen Island, one of the many islands in the marsh, which became true islands only when the marshland flooded. But all Silas could see was white flatness stretching out before him in all directions. To make matters worse, he could see the marsh mist beginning to rise up and drift across the water, and he knew that if the mist came in they would never see Keeper’s Cottage, however close they might be to it.

Then he remembered that the cottage was Enchanted. Which meant that no one could see it anyway.

If they ever needed the Boggart, it was now.

“I can see a light!” said Jenna, suddenly. “It must be Aunt Zelda coming to look for us. Look, over there!”

All eyes followed Jenna’s pointing finger.

A flickering light was jumping over the marshes, as if bounding from tussock to tussock.

“She’s coming toward us,” said Jenna, excited.

“No, she’s not,” Nicko said. “Look, she’s going away.”

“Perhaps we ought to go and meet her,” said Silas.

Marcia was not convinced. “How can you be sure it’s Zelda?” she said. “It could be anyone. Anything.”

Everyone fell silent at the thought of a thing with a light coming toward them, until Silas said, “It is Zelda. Look, I can see her.”

“No, you can’t,” said Marcia. “It’s Marshfire, like that very intelligent Boggart said.”

“Marcia, I know Zelda when I see her, and I can see her now. She’s carrying a light. She’s come all this way to find us and we are just sitting here. I’m going to meet her.”

“They say that fools see what they want to see in Marshfire,” said Marcia tartly, “and you’ve just proved that saying true, Silas.”

Silas made to get out of the canoe, and Marcia grabbed his cloak.

“Sit!” she said as though she was talking to Maxie.

But Silas pulled away, half in a dream, drawn to the flickering light and the shadow of Aunt Zelda that appeared and disappeared through the rising mist. Sometimes she was tantalizingly near, about to find them all and lead them to a warm fire and a soft bed, sometimes fading away sorrowfully and inviting them to follow and be with her. But Silas could no longer bear to be away from the light. He climbed out of the canoe and stumbled off toward the flickering glow.

“Dad!” yelled Jenna. “Can we come too?”

“No, you may not,” said Marcia firmly. “And I’m going to have to bring the silly old fool back.”

Marcia was just drawing breath for the Boomerang Spell when Silas tripped and fell headlong onto the boggy ground. As he lay winded, Silas felt the marsh beneath him begin to shift as though living things were stirring in the depths of the mud. And when he tried to get up, Silas found that he could not. It was as if he were glued to the ground. In his Marshfire daze, Silas was confused about why he seemed unable to move. He tried to lift his head to see what was happening but was unable to. It was then that he realized the awful truth: something was pulling at his hair.

Silas raised his hands to his head, and to his horror, he could feel little bony fingers in his hair, winding and knotting his long straggling curls around them and pulling, tugging him down into the bog. Desperately Silas struggled to get free, but the more he struggled, the more the fingers tangled themselves up in his hair. Slowly and steadily they pulled Silas down until the mud covered his eyes and soon, very soon, would cover his nose.