They crouched side by side, scanning the garden with calculating eyes. There was half an open yard between the shindy and themselves, with two mannies and a starved cat standing by. Magpie clasped her fingers into fists, remembering Bellatrix telling her there was magic in her, and she smiled ruefully to herself. If there was, she had no notion how to summon it, not even to scare a cat, much less a monster like the Blackbringer!

Talon interrupted her thoughts. “I’ll go around the side and distract the cat, and you can get that shindy’s attention.”

“Eh? What will you do?”

“I’ll just make him a phantasm to chase,” Talon said. “It’s a clan spell; we use it to trick the spiders on raids, get ’em going the wrong way. Well . . . ” He colored slightly. “The others use it anyway . . . on raids.”

Magpie was on the verge of telling him she’d handle it herself when she realized that was probably the story of his life. He didn’t get to go with the other warriors because of his wings; he probably didn’t get to do much but get left behind. “Okay, then,” she said, “but be careful.”

He nodded and disappeared into a thatch of dill. Magpie crept as close as she could get to the shindy while remaining hidden. She hoped the lad knew what he was doing. A picture came into her mind then of him skewering the Blackbringer’s tongue on his blade, and she recalled he had saved her life. Surely he could trick a cat. She relaxed among some strawberry runners to see what he would do.

She didn’t see him climb the apple tree, so she was as surprised as the cat when he—or rather, his phantasm—suddenly dropped from its branches to land right before the cat’s nose. It was very lifelike for an illusion, Magpie thought, seeing no hint of the telltale traceries she’d detected around his falcon skin. She wouldn’t have been able to tell the phantasm from the real lad. The cat’s green eyes snapped open, but before it could move, the phantasm had flipped over its head and sprinted the length of its back, diving off its tail to land rolling and spring through the fence. With a yowl the cat gave chase. Magpie wanted to watch but she had her own part to play. She turned back to the shindy and lobbed a small strawberry at it, hitting its bare rump.

It turned and she waved and, after pausing to peck at the strawberry, it shuffled toward her. “Bless me,” it said. “A faerie? Never seen one of ye lot here.”

“Blessings, master shindy,” Magpie started to say.

“Strag,” he cut in. “No masters among the clucks and mannies! Just Strag.”

“Strag, then. And I’m Magpie Windwitch—”