‘No. You’ve been dressing to hide the fact that you’ve barely eaten a thing since Max was sent to that other world. You need to eat, Wanda. Someone who uses as much magic as you do can’t scrimp on the calories. You’ll come down with Hollow Legs.’

  ‘That’s a wizard illness.’

  ‘Just eat, Wanda.’ She pushed her plate across to me.

  ‘Is this a veggie bacon sandwich?’ I narrowed my eyes. ‘You knew I was coming, didn’t you?’

  She smiled innocently. ‘How could I have possibly known that?’

  As she spoke, Fifi, one of the performers who also ran the club, appeared with a glass of orange juice. ‘You said you’d be needing a second one of these, didn’t you, Mrs Fay?’ She gave the Queen a wink as she set the glass in front of me. ‘Nice to see you again, Wanda,’ she said. Walking away, she added, ‘Tell Gretel I said “Hi”.’

  Sometimes, you just needed to accept you’d been bested. And I did feel hungry, actually – properly, stomach-growlingly hungry – for the first time in months. Maybe the Queen had added some suggestive magic to her words, or maybe my body was crying out for calories. Whatever the reason, I picked up the sandwich, and began to eat. Only when I’d finished did I say, ‘I came to see you for a reason.’

  ‘Oh? I assumed it was procrastination. I never did like studying.’

  ‘I’m not procrastinating,’ I said. ‘Well, not exactly. But I can’t concentrate on studying, or on the fact that I think I’ve figured out who Athena’s real murderer is, even though I don’t know why. Dizzy thinks it’s because I can’t stop worrying about not-my-Max, and I think he might be right. What’s wrong with him, Your Majesty? Why is he having all of these mishaps, and why is one of your people always there when it happens?’

  There was a moment of weighted silence, before she finally spoke. ‘Wanda, you’ll recall how this other Max appeared when you looked at him through a wizard’s Aurameter?’

  ‘Yeah. Like a square peg trying to shove its way into a round hole. The doppel-Dizzy looked the same.’ I smiled fondly at the thought of the other-world version of Dizzy. He’d been almost as cute as my own little bat.

  ‘Well …’ She played with a strand of her long, titian hair. ‘He is still a square peg. He doesn’t belong here. He’s like a virus that the world is trying to shake off. In everything that’s happened to him recently, I see the magic of Mother Earth, of creation and destruction. It’s a particular kind of magic, and an unmistakable one. It’s a magic I expected, but that I hoped not to see.

  ‘My people have been everywhere he goes, keeping an eye on him, saving his life many more times than even he knows. But no one expected him to get food poisoning from a vegan food truck, or for it to make him quite so ill. And we certainly didn’t expect him to trip up on the way out of hospital and wind up back there less than a minute after he left. He’s having all of these problems, because … well … he’s not welcome in this world.’

  She leaned forward and took my hands in hers. ‘I’ve been avoiding telling you this in case I’m wrong. But I know now, absolutely, that I’m not. And I’m sorry to tell you this, Wanda, but whatever our world is doing to this Max, you can be sure that the other world is doing it to your Max.’

  My mind went straight to Pru’s prophecy. My reunion with Max had been so, so long in the future. I’d seen my reflection in the mirror, the date on the calendar as I rushed out into the night, the night when I would finally see Max again.

  ‘He’ll be all right, though.’ My voice was shaking as I tried to hold it together. ‘I mean, he has to be. Because I … well, I can’t tell you why, but I’m sure that he’s going to be all right.’

  ‘You’re speaking of Pru Montague’s prophecy.’

  ‘You know what she showed me?’

  Her eyes brimmed with sympathy and compassion. ‘As I’ve probably said before in an irritating variety of ways, I know just enough to know that I know not enough. But yes, your Max will be all right. I will make sure of that in this world, and I have no doubt that the other Queen is making sure of it in her world.’

  ‘Will she, though?’ My breaths were coming out in quick, short gasps as I struggled not to cry. It didn’t matter what I had seen, or what the Queen had seen, in any prophecy – I was more worried about Max than I could ever express. Yes, I had seen that we would meet again. But it didn’t matter that he would be all right in the future, not if he was suffering now. ‘She won’t care about him as much as you would, because she won’t know him as well as you do, will she?’

  ‘Oh, she’ll know him,’ the Queen promised. ‘And she’ll care about him. Trust me on that. This Max will be under constant guard, under my protection, and your Max will be under hers. It will all work out in the end, Wanda. In precisely the way it’s supposed to. Doesn’t it always?’

  ‘Does it?’ No matter how many assurances she gave me, I didn’t think that I would ever stop worrying about this.

  ‘You don’t think so? You shouldn’t lose faith in fate, Wanda. Not with a life such as yours. Not with your instincts, leading you towards the answers every time. Leading you towards the killer in every murder you investigate.’

  ‘Instincts? Yeah, I’m not so sure about that anymore. When I look back on all that’s happened since I turned twenty-one, I think that maybe I just got lucky. That, or found myself in life or death situations and just about scraped through so I could arrest the killer at the end.’

  She gave me a wry smile. ‘You sound like a friend of yours, don’t you think? Gretel, forever diminishing her achievements. Well, I’ll say to you what you would say to her. You’re clever, and not just in the booksmart sense, or the critical thinking sense. You’re aware of the serendipity of life. You pay attention to the little things along the way – little signs and warnings which lead you in the right direction. It’s all of that combined which has led you to the answers in the past, and which will lead you to the answers again.’

  As she checked her watch, I gawped at her. The gym-bunny outfit was one thing, but the watch was quite another. A piece of theatre, no doubt, seeing as the woman probably had an internal clock.

  ‘We have a little over three hours before your exam,’ she said. ‘Would you like to spend that time cramming, or having another sandwich?’

  My stomach rumbled. Darn her and her wily ways. ‘Sandwich.’

  On cue, Fifi arrived with a second sandwich.

  ‘Speaking of Gretel,’ the Queen said as I ate, ‘when last we met, you told me you’d be going to an event at her coven property. Did you manage to attend?’

  I swallowed my food before I replied (on rare occasions, even I had table manners). ‘Yup. A birthday party for her brother. And it was just as awkward and uncomfortable as I thought it would be.’

  She sipped some of her juice and then, with a thoughtful expression, said, ‘There’s a Tall Tale of Hansel and Gretel even in the human world, I believe. I’ve heard many, many variations, but the gist is more or less the same. Over and over, the clever, astute sister saves the greedy, gullible brother. But it’s not like that at all with Gretel and her brother, is it? Very unusual, don’t you think? For destiny to be overridden like that?’

  I pushed my plate away, staring at the Queen. Her wily ways had done it again. This time, her words had jogged my memory, and now there was one, single image in my mind, one I had overlooked, and one which brought all of the pieces together.

  Finally, I saw what was happening here – why Athena had been killed, why my exam had been interrupted, time and again – and it had absolutely nothing to do with me. ‘You know what’s happening here, don’t you?’ I accused.

  ‘I have a disturbing inkling, I won’t deny. I suppose you’d better go and sort it out, before it’s too late.’

  I shook my head at her. ‘I love and appreciate you so much, Your Majesty. But sometimes …’

  ‘Sometimes you just want to throttle me? Yes, I know. Now go on and follow that instinct, my darling.’

  ‘It’s not instinct when you’re the one who points out the obvious to me!’

  ‘Oh, come on now.’ She smiled serenely. ‘I just gave you a couple of sandwiches. You’re the one who made the breadcrumbs.’

  19. It’s All About You

  At four o’clock that afternoon, my Potions’ exam took place once more, this time in a large room at the Department of Education, with guards covering every entrance and every fire alarm.

  I had been a little frazzled when I began to answer the questions on my paper – I’d spent the hours up to that point running around, making sure I was right about my theory, and putting my plan in place. But I answered the questions nonetheless, going through the motions until the right time arrived.

  Gretel looked even paler and sicker than she had this morning, and her coordination was worse than it had been in all the time I’d known her. She had tripped up the steps, caught her coat sleeve on a door handle, caught her watch in her braids, tripped up another set of steps, and … well, you get the picture. I had to hope that soon, there would be a way to set things right.

  The test dragged on, but finally the third quarter arrived, and it was time for me to identify what Gretel had been dosed with, and to find a solution.

  The potions she was given were fairly innocuous, and easily identifiable: first an itching potion, next a potion which gave her an unquenchable thirst. I solved those two and moved onto the third – this time, it seemed clear to me that Gretel had been given Bluefrecklegiggle, a harmless pixie potion often used at children’s parties. It gave the victims – you guessed it – blue freckles and a dose of the giggles.

  The antidote was widely available, and just as easy to mix up on the spot. It was made from a mixture of milk, magemica, cinnamon and one tiny grain of sandman dust. I mixed it precisely and handed it to Gretel, who downed the potion in one.

  After a couple of seconds had passed, her fits of giggles ended, and her skin began to clear.

  Almost immediately, Niamh Night stood up and approached us. ‘I’m so sorry, Wanda, but I was watching you as you mixed it, and you added far too much sandman dust.’

  ‘Really?’ I bit down on my lip, frowning. ‘Are you sure? I mean, I was so careful.’

  Niamh gave me a look of sympathy. ‘I’m quite sure, Wanda. It’s my job to notice these things. And I don’t blame you really – there’s been so much tension surrounding these exams, hasn’t there? It’s only natural that the pressure would get to you eventually, and cause you to make a mistake.’

  I blew out some air. ‘Yup. There’s been a lot of pressure, lately, you’re not wrong about that.’

  She smiled kindly. ‘I know. But don’t you worry, Wanda – you’ve only messed up on one small section. You’ve already done more than enough to ace this exam. Now, I’ll just give Gretel some of my own Fix-All to correct your mistake, and then we’ll move onto the vomiting potion, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ I gave her a what can you do? sort of shrug. ‘I mean, you’re the expert, Niamh. And like you say, I’m going to pass anyway.’

  ‘Exactly.’ She beamed at me, pouring a bottle marked Fix-All into a beaker.

  The very second she was done, I extended a finger, and cried, ‘Conáil!’

  ≈

  As Niamh Night stood frozen, Finn and Ronnie rushed into the room, binding Niamh Night in golden Wayfarer rope. I undid my freezing spell just enough so that she could speak.

  ‘What’s the meaning of this?’ she screeched. ‘Why have I been bound?’

  Ronnie had moved immediately towards the beaker of Fix-All, splitting it into two sample bottles. One portion, she would take back to the lab for further testing, the other she would see if she could identify immediately. Within a few seconds, the alleged Fix-All was bearing a question mark upon the surface of the liquid.

  ‘If this was Fix-All,’ said Ronnie, ‘then the What’s My Poison? I’ve just added would have turned it into a perfect rainbow of colours. But it’s something else, isn’t it?’

  Niamh lifted her chin. ‘You must have done it wrong. Or it’s been somehow contaminated, or–’

  ‘Or you’ve actually added something designed to cause harm to Gretel?’ I suggested. ‘Just like you’ve been doing in every other Potions’ exam. Every single time, Niamh, you let things get to the point where Gretel had taken a potion, and made sure that the fire alarm went off before I could administer the antidote. All so you could give her an antidote of your own.’

  Niamh glared at me, her facial expression making her seem like an entirely different person. She sure had turned from kindly examiner to nasty witch in record time. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Miss Wayfair. It’s a strange accusation you’re making, don’t you think? Perhaps you’re just annoyed that I picked you up on adding too much sandman dust. It must be hard for someone like you to accept you’ve made a mistake, but you really are taking the sour grapes to a whole new level.’

  I shrugged. ‘I think you’ll find that I added precisely the right amount of sandman dust. But I knew you were going to find some way to get this potion of yours into Gretel today, so it hardly surprises me that with the fire alarms so closely guarded, nice and safe from your many minions, you had to resort to this.’

  Gretel looked in confusion from Niamh Night to me. The fact that she hadn’t fallen asleep backed up my assertion – she hadn’t been given too much sandman dust at all, just one single grain, enough to counteract the giggling effect of the potion.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Gretel said. ‘Why would Goodwitch Night want to give me some weird unidentified potion, Wanda? What has any of that got to do with messing up your life?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing.’ I sat next to my friend and rubbed her back. ‘This never had anything to do with me, Gretel. It’s all about you. It always has been.’

  I looked at the door and called out, ‘Hans, I think you’d better come in now, don’t you?’

  20. Kindred Spirits

  With a sheepish expression on his face, Hans entered the room. His mother was with him, and he was surrounded by half a dozen Wayfarers, just in case.

  ‘I em … how far have we got in the explanations?’ Hans questioned, as Finn directed him to take a seat.

  ‘Oh, we’re still at the beginning,’ I told him. ‘Between you and Niamh Night, we should soon know it all.’

  ‘Know what?’ Gretel was becoming more upset with each second. ‘What’s happening here? Are you saying Hans has been working with Niamh Night to somehow hurt me?’ She cast a pained look at her brother. ‘I mean, it was obvious you couldn’t stand my guts when you asked me to move out this morning, but I didn’t know you hated me this much.’

  ‘Oh, no, Gretel, I don’t hate you. Please believe me.’ His eyes were beseeching. ‘I love you, you’re my sister. It’s just … it turns out that I may have done something really, really stupid.’

  ‘Okay.’ Gretel was sweating and shivering. ‘But Niamh? Why would she hurt me? I don’t even know her.’

  Placing my coat around Gretel, I said, ‘You do, actually. Or you did, a long time ago, before she altered her appearance. For the last few years, she’s been a member of the Night coven, working at the Maze in their apothecary. From there, she was able to orchestrate everything that’s been happening. But before she was a Night, she was Niamh Wood. When I finally put everything together in my mind today, I went to see Hans, so that he could fill in some gaps. He was reluctant to talk with me at first, but once he realised that you were in danger, he was more than helpful. But let’s start at the beginning, shall we? Hans, do you want to tell us all about the day you made a deal with Niamh?’

  ‘All right then.’ Hans croaked out the words. ‘I’ll tell you. It all started when I was twelve, Gretel. The year that you and I took the Test.’

  ≈

  Hans wandered through the Wood coven grounds, unable to settle. Tomorrow, he would be taking part in the Test. There was no way he would fail, of course. But there were worse things than failing – like passing because your big sister was covering your behind.

  And he had told her as much, too, in the argument they had had, he and Gretel, right before he stormed out of the house. Actually, he had shouted it at her. ‘It’s not fair!’ he’d cried. ‘I’m sick of you being better at absolutely everything! I’m sick of the other boys laughing at me. I’m sick of you, Gretel!’

  Gretel had tried to calm him down – well she would, wouldn’t she? Perfect Gretel, as usual. She’d even sympathised with him, for Hecate’s sake!

  ‘I’m not better at everything,’ she had told him in that gentle, understanding voice of hers (was there anything more annoying?). ‘You’ll be wonderful tomorrow, Hans. And even if you’re not the best at riding or shooting or any of that, it doesn’t matter. You have years and years ahead of you to find out what it is you love to do, what it is you’re passionate about.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what I don’t love,’ he had screamed back. ‘I don’t love you! Little Miss Perfect, that’s what you are! Little Miss Know it All! And I’ll tell you something you don’t know, Gretel – I wish you weren’t my sister!’

  With those last angry words, he had stormed out of the house.

  Now, he kicked a stone along the ground, leaving the main clearing where the large coven house was, and journeying along the forest path. He kept to the safe areas, those pathways on the inner edges of the forest, less than a hundred metres away from the clearing. Hans was panicked this afternoon, but he wasn’t stupid. His twelve years in the world had been more than enough to inform him that he couldn’t make it in the deeper parts of Foundling Forest, not without Gretel, anyway.

  There was a scattering of cottages along the path, for young Wood coven couples, or for those who simply preferred to live alone. That was the thing about their coven – no one ever strayed too far, believing that there was safety in numbers.

  It was a cold autumn afternoon, so cold that he was almost regretting rushing out of the main house the way he had, without a hat, or gloves, or a jacket. Gretel would have been just fine without any of those things – fabulous Gretel with her fabulous magic. She would have been able to produce a warmth spell for the entire coven, had she wanted to.