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“I MEAN, IT’S KIND OF sinister,” Ruby says, as we watch the hundreds—thousands?—of birds flocking onto the lawns. You can hardly see the grass for their bodies. Ruby and I and a few of the others have been summoned to deal with them. “Have you ever seen them do this before?”

I shake my head: no. I know what she means, it is sinister. They look sort of like one of the armies in Game of Thrones, gathering before a battle.

“You all right, Eds?” Ruby’s watching me.

“Oh... yeah.” I was thinking of the scene last night in the woods. Of the cloak and mask I found at home. My own dad: one of them. And now these real birds acting in such an unnatural way...

But I can’t mention any of this to Ruby, so instead I say, “There’s this film where the birds start, like, attacking people, isn’t there? It’s definitely famous. Old, but famous. Can’t remember what it’s called, though.”

“It’s called The Birds, Eddie,” Ruby says, with a bit of an eyeroll. “And the original story’s better.” I nod, like I know what she’s talking about. I always feel a bit thick around Ruby. “Anyway,” she says, “let’s do this.”

Together we wander onto the lawn. We try shouting and clapping our hands but the birds don’t seem scared of us at all. They barely even move as we walk among them. There’s something about the way they’re eyeballing us that I really don’t like. They’ve got very sharp-looking beaks and claws. I wonder how that film ends.

Out of nowhere there’s a loud bang! and both of us jump. Francesca Meadows has burst through the front door of The Manor. Her hair is all wild and loose down her back and she’s wearing a long silk dress that I think might actually be a posh nightie because it’s a really pale nude color and you can kind of see everything through it, even though I’m trying very hard not to stare (I don’t think it’s professional to check out your boss’s nipples). Her feet are bare.

I catch Ruby’s eye. She mouths what the fuck? A part of me wants to snigger but another part is rattled as it’s all so weird. The Night Birds couldn’t make this happen... could they? That would be actual dark magic or something.

We watch as Francesca Meadows rushes into the middle of the flock and starts waving her arms around to try and scare them away. She doesn’t seem to notice or care that the hem of her dress is trailing on the ground and getting all manky with the greenish bird crap that’s staining her bare feet, too. As she approaches them groups of feathery black bodies rise up into the air and twist and corkscrew around her like miniature tornados, then resettle on the ground once more. She lets out a cry of rage that mingles with the screeching of the birds and kicks out at them and then goes for them with her hands—almost like she’s trying to grab them out of the air. I have this horrible feeling that if she managed to get hold of one she might actually tear it to pieces.

“Oh my God,” Ruby whispers, sounding kind of awed. “She’s totally lost it. I knew that Goopy yoga princess thing was an act...” She trails off as Francesca Meadows turns to look at us. Flecks of foamy spit run from her mouth down to her jaw. One of the birds must have nicked her with a claw as blood is smeared above her eyebrow. Dark patches of sweat have appeared under the arms of her silk nightie thing. She’s visibly panting.

Ruby and I stand here watching from a few meters away, kind of frozen to the spot. Then she turns toward us and there’s a moment when we all stare at each other. Ruby nudges me and we both start moving among the birds again, trying to shoo them away, while nearby Francesca Meadows is doing some kind of demented dance-fight with them.

“Hang on,” Ruby says, suddenly. “Look. They’re eating something, aren’t they?” She steps forward and crouches down to get a better look. “Yes! I think it’s birdseed.” She bends down and scoops a handful into her palm to show me. “Someone’s scattered it everywhere. All over the lawns. Holy shit... That’s why they’re here. It’s no random freak of nature.”

I think again of the cloaked figures in the woods.

The bird mask tucked away secretly at home.

Someone planned this whole thing.