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Suddenly a rippling, tingling sensation began flooding through her body. A surge of energy filled every part of her, snapping away. The corridor began to whirl before her eyes throwing up spectral ghostly faces from the past. Time and space altered before her eyes, the light flickered uncontrollably. Then she entered another world.
When Tallitha opened her eyes everything seemed much brighter. She could smell the woody aroma of fires burning in the grates and hear laughter filtering up from empty rooms. She clutched her head, remembering her dreamlike state and the ghostly apparitions that had appeared before her. Now the Raven’s wing looked strangely familiar as though she had slipped into another time when it had been inhabited by the ancestral Morrow family. Her imagination must be playing tricks on her! She had to get out of there! She had to find Tyaas!
Tallitha ran to door, leaving the eeriness of the Raven’s Wing behind her. Cissie had been right. She shouldn’t have gone there. The wing was possessed by something unspeakable. Cissie had warned her again and again. But even in that moment, something compelled her to turn around and take one final peek. There in the shadows she saw the wizened face of a shrove, his twisted lips smirking and his blackened fingers gripping the edge of the door, then banging it with a resounding thud behind her.
‘Ohh no, ‘she gasped, turning to flee from the evil place.
It was Marlin‒he was following her! She had to get away from him.
Tallitha ran further up into the shadows of the enormous house until at last she found herself at the very top of Winderling Spires.
Chapter Four
Way Up Into the Dark Turret
    The house was spookily silent on the uppermost floor of the Spires. Tallitha caught her breath and peered over the banister past all the twists and turns of the staircase, making a zigzag pattern into the distance. At the top of the house the grand landings and corridors were replaced with narrow passageways which Tallitha followed until she found what she was looking for, a small wooden door to one of the hexagonal turrets. She stepped inside and forced opened the stiff outer door to the roof. Cool fresh air rushed into her lungs and savagely whipped her clothes in all directions.
    ‘Mountains!’ she cried as she steadied herself against the stone ramparts.
The view was incredible. Way over the rolling countryside of Wycham Elva was a picturesque scene of sludgy browns and humming greens. A group of black crows circled the Spires, screeching and soaring on the strong thermals, spying on their intruder with territorial beady eyes, then landing to stake their claim. The roof was an uneven expanse of crumbling roof tiles, dirty skylights and stacks of twisting chimney pots.
Tallitha peered round the first stack of chimney pots. Tyaas had been up here, the little stinker, not even bothering to wait for her. By the skylight were the remains of his half-eaten sandwich. Something had disturbed him. The turret on the far side of the roof was a mirror image of the one she had just passed through. Tallitha crawled across the roofscape as the wind howled, stinging her ears. She opened the turret door.
Inside, it smelled of stale air and was pitch-black. As she stepped over the uneven doorframe she tripped, falling on top of something soft and warm and making an awful noise. In the mess of arms and legs shouting and pushing, Tallitha realised she had fallen on top of a squirming, squealing Tyaas.
‘Stop shouting Tyaas, it’s me you’re kicking!’ gasped Tallitha.
Tyaas grinned at his sister. His dark hair stuck out at odd angles and he had smudges of dirt all over his face but Tyaas often looked like he had just been down a muddy hole.
‘Phew, I thought you were a shrove.’ he said sounding relieved and lighting a candle.
‘I didn’t mean to frighten you. But you came without me,’ said Tallitha slightly miffed.
‘Sorry it happened so quickly. I was in the treehouse and I saw