The streets of Portsmouth were largely invisible beyond the bus windows. The glare from the flickering lights blinded them to the inky blackness outside, with the exception of bright neon signs for Chinese restaurants and hairdressers. Edgar glanced over at his companions – Joy once again had her head in a George R.R. Martin book, but this time A Storm of Swords; Noah – in the seat next to him – had his earphones in, and had leant his head against the bus window, seeming oblivious to the shaking from the engine. The bus was largely empty at this late hour, but even so, they'd had to cover themselves in glamour runes to stop any humdrums catching sight of them ­– the last thing they needed was the humdrum police catching wind of them carrying weapons around. Especially when they were all dressed entirely in black leather gear.

Edgar tapped his foot against the bumpy, rubbery floor, avoiding limp chips and McDonalds cartons. The journey into town was always long, but it was worse in winter, when the sun set early, so they couldn't see anything out of the windows. He pulled out his stylograph and pressed it against his skin – the low burn was a good distraction, and he started to doodle runes onto the blank canvas of his forearm: good luck, farsighted, surefooted...

The bus jittered to a halt, just as Joy dog-eared her page. Edgar caught her gaze, and he slid his stylograph back into his belt, his forearm stinging, before leaning over to give Noah a push. He jumped, but pulled his earbuds out. "What?"

Edgar rolled his eyes. "We're here. C'mon, let's get this done quickly." The three of them got to their feet and trailed off the slightly grungy bus. It was chilly out on the street, but their gear kept them warm enough. Noah was wrapping his earphones around his iPod, and he slipped it into his pocket as the bus pulled away – the bus driver looked a little confused as to why he had bothered to stop when nobody he could see wanted to get off.

Joy tucked A Storm of Swords under her arm, and she brushed her hair back – Emmy had obligingly plaited it for her again, so there were only a couple of loose strands in her eyes. She took a deep breath as both Edgar and Noah drew weapons – Noah a short dagger; Edgar his usual brightly burning seraph blade. Rather than a weapon, Joy pulled out a Sensor; a metal object reminiscent of an early mobile phone, and covered in odd dials and switches. She twirled a couple of dials, but there was no response. "There're no demons around here," she said softly, leading the boys down a brightly lit but largely empty suburban street as she pressed a couple of buttons. "But there might be something else." She stopped abruptly, and Noah walked straight into her. "Watch it!"

"Sorry!" He took a couple of hurried steps away from her, though he peered over her shoulder as she fiddled with the Sensor. Edgar swung the seraph blade into thin air, its light shining into a couple of the alleyways that led away from the safely lit pavements. "How about checking for fairies? And maybe thaumaturgists?"

Joy nodded, twiddling another dial. The Sensor flashed green, and it shuddered in her hands, as though someone was calling a phone set to vibrate. She waved it around a little, and it flashed again in the direction of an alleyway off to their right. "There're fairies around." She waved for them to follow her, and the three of them set off down the dark alley.

Edgar sent Noah ahead of him – he always forgot to watch his back, and besides, he was the one who brought their light source. Sure enough, as the alley turned a corner, blocking the soft light of the sodium street lamps, leaving them lit only by the greenish light of the Sensor, Noah pulled a glowing stone out of his pocket, dousing them all in bright white light. It twinkled as he adjusted his hold on it.

They reached the street just as the Sensor went dark. Noah extinguished his light, hiding it in his gear jacket pocket, as they now had the orange streetlights to work by. Edgar frowned, sheathing the seraph blade to peer over Joy's shoulder as her forehead puckered. She flicked a switch, but there was no response. "You didn't break it, did you?" he said, sounding doubtful.

She shook her head, hitting another button and repeating her previous dial twiddling. "No. It just cut out." Edgar glanced around at the deserted street. It was lined with innocent terraced houses, probably filled with sleeping humdrums, but something was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Even Noah seemed aware of it – he sheathed his dagger, instead pulling out a short sword, with its thin steel blade engraved with runes.

The two of them looked about for the source of the interference as Joy fiddled with the Sensor; Edgar's eyes darted over pigeons perched on the overhead electricity cables, on lights flicking on and off behind curtains, on the silhouette of street signs at the end of the road... His farsightedness rune burned.

Joy flicked another switch, and the Sensor flickered back into life. She held it up, and this time it flashed red. "I've figured it." Noah turned to look at her, but Edgar kept on watching the street, just waiting for someone to jump out at them. Just because demons weren't on their Sensor didn't mean they weren't present. "It wasn't the Sensor malfunctioning. It's just there ceased to be any live fairies in the area." She met Noah's gaze worriedly. "There's only an old trail now. That must mean –"

"The killer must be near here!" Noah had gone white. "Well, we've got to go find them!"

Edgar and Joy shared significant a glance, and they nodded. Joy raised the Sensor once more, and the three of them set off along the trail of its red flashes, through the maze of alleyways and side streets that made up residential Portsmouth.

They came to a halt midway down an alley just alongside a Chinese takeaway with a flickering red neon sign. The smell of chicken chow mein wafted over to them as they crept into the alleyway, weapons at the ready – Noah's sword glinted in the light of his stone, and Edgar's seraph blade shone with a fiery bright light, casting shadows on the brickwork as they edged around bins. Even Joy drew a short, rune-engraved dagger, though she was still concentrating on the Sensor – it was flashing more frequently now, and Joy peered down at the little screen. "We're here."

The three of them looked around for a moment, but there was nothing to see but muddy flyers and old takeaway menus scattered on the floor; Edgar pushed past the other two, blade in hand, and he started to make his way further into the alleyway. There was nothing for a few paces, but then the alleyway veered off to the left, and then –

"Edgar." Noah had moved forward to walk beside him, and he was staring at the doll-like figure ahead of them. It was crumpled against the brickwork, and a sputtering seraph blade was still embedded deep in its still chest. Rusty blood had leaked from the wound, and had soaked its long, silvery hair, and its plain t-shirt.

Edgar sheathed his blade, and he approached the body. It was clearly a female fairy, who must have once been beautiful – he could see where her cheeks must once have had the soft, pink tinge of life, and how her hair must once have looked beautiful and shiny. Now the curls were tangled and matted, and her face was whiter than the light from the smouldering seraph blade in her chest. He reached out, gently feeling her neck for a pulse – she was only a little cooler than she must have been in life. There was no gentle fluttering against his fingers. "She's dead," he said, taking his hand back and resting it on his knee. He gestured towards the seraph blade. "And clearly killed by a demonhunter."

Joy sheathed her dagger with a defeated sigh. "We were so close," she said, blinking a little more rapidly than usual. "We were here. If we'd been a bit faster..."

Noah had moved over to squat down next to Edgar. He was pulling something out of the fairy's limp hand – the stiff rigor of death clearly hadn't started to take effect yet. "We could've saved her," he muttered, bowing his head – Edgar thought for a moment that he was grieving for the young fairy girl, but then he noticed the scrap of paper in his free hand. He lit it up with his glowing stone, and Edgar watched as his eyes darted over it. "Guys, look at this. It's more of that poem thing."

He handed it over to Edgar, who peered at it for a moment before reading it aloud to Joy. "'Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken.'" He glanced at the other two, a frown puckering his forehead. "What? That wasn't the next stanza."

After a moment, Joy shrugged. "We'll figure it out. Maybe Lee and Emmy will've found something out?" She held a hand out for the note, and Edgar handed it over. She only gave it a cursory glance before sliding between the pages of A Storm of Swords. "At least this time we have the seraph blade, I mean –"

There was a rustle, and the three of them distinctly heard footsteps. Noah pushed himself to his feet, dousing his light in his pocket, and Edgar drew his seraph blade once more. The light from the blade effectively blinded them – they could see a tall figure silhouetted against the soft saffron of the streetlights, but not much else. A raven cawed in the distance as he reached for the sheath at his hip.