“Enough!” Brody finally says, leaning over to catch her breath. “This’ll do. I’ve never managed to round them all up before. Maybe they’ll stay together for a while.”

Simon crosses his wrists on his head, frustrated. “I thought they liked being together…”

“They do, normally.”

“Niamh thinks they’re grieving,” Wellbelove says.

Snow looks stricken. “They miss Ebb?”

Agatha nods.

He looks around him at the goats, newly sympathetic to their terrible behaviour. “So we just leave them here? Alone?”

“They have food and water,” Brody says, “and they can go home whenever they want. We can’t make them go.”

Snow sighs and reaches down to pet the nearest goat. “Don’t run off,” he says. “You’ll regret it.”

Wellbelove looks a bit beaten. “It does feel wrong to leave them…”

“Well…” Brody pulls her bag up over her shoulder. “I have to get back to London, but … if you’d like to stay…”

Agatha looks up. “I’ll take you back.”

Brody nods, scowling, and turns to Simon. “Mr. Snow—” she says stiffly.

“Call me Simon,” he says. “We’re goat-herding pals now.”

She nods. “Whenever you’re ready … I’ve got a different plan for your procedure now. I think we should numb the wings at the outset, before we disinfect.”

Snow looks taken aback. “Oh … Yeah. That’s an idea.”

“Call the surgery,” she says, “and I’ll have them put you right into the schedule.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that.”

Wellbelove is looking at me. “See you, then. This was good timing.”

I nod.

She puts her hand on Snow’s arm and squeezes. “Thank you. That really was brilliant.” He lays his hand over hers and smiles at her.

Then she and Brody are heading out towards the Great Lawn.

Snow turns to me. I’m still sitting twenty feet away from him, in the grass. One side of his mouth quirks up. He starts walking my way.

“What about you?” He’s standing over me now. “Did you get enough sun?”

I shield my eyes. “Yes, am I getting scorched around the edges?”

“You’re looking a bit … Iowa.”

Snow holds out his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. He keeps hold of it. “Can we take the long way back?”

“There’s only a long way back,” I say.

“Through the Wood? There’s a marker there, for Ebb. I’ve never seen it.”

I glance over at the dense line of trees across the meadow. “I might have to drink something…”

“Not a goat,” Snow says earnestly.

My cheeks twitch. “One of the famous Watford goats? Never.”

He looks back over the flock. (Do goats flock? Or do they only herd?) They’re already spreading out. “Could you maybe cast a spell on them before we go?”

“None of my other spells worked, Snow.”

He tugs on my hand. “Yeah, but you could try…”

“What kind of spell?”