There was thick pig blood on Snout’s boots and it was still dripping onto them from his apron. He moved the knife closer to the baby.

‘Come here, boy,’ he called in my direction. ‘Come to me.’ Then he laughed.

His mouth had opened and closed as he spoke but it wasn’t his voice that came out. It was Mother Malkin’s. Neither was it his usual deep belly-rumble of laughter. It was the cackle of the witch.

The Spook's Apprentice Chapter 13