Ms. Foster’s lips thinned. “I have no idea how you three managed to wriggle out of the curse, but I promise you I won’t let you do it again. I’ve been given a second chance,” she said.

Eleanor peered at her. “Mr. January doesn’t know you’re here talking to us, does he?” Eleanor asked. Delilah’s gaze snapped to her. “You wanted to find out what was going on before you told him. Because if we’re here, maybe that means you messed up. And Mr. January wouldn’t like that.”

The hedgewitch looked down at Eleanor approvingly.

“An astute observation,” Bartimaeus said. He folded his arms. “Your master may have power, Delilah, but you do not. I have over a century of knowledge. The hedgewitch is practically magic incarnate. And if nothing else, Ben can sit on you to keep you from running off for help. So I suggest you run off with your tail between your legs, and find someone with actual power to intimidate us with.”

Ms. Foster’s eyes narrowed. Eleanor could see the calculation running behind her eyes. Finally her brilliant smile returned. “I only wanted to drop by and say hello. I’ll be sure to give Mr. January your regards. I’m certain he’ll want to speak with you. Soon,” she said.

She turned on her heel and strode back out of the house, shoes clicking on the hardwood floors. The sound of the door slamming was followed quickly by an engine starting up.

“She’s gone,” Ben reported, checking the hall. He shot finger-guns at them. “You were all very impressive.”

“That woman just now,” Pip said slowly. She was looking out toward the hallway, her eyes not quite focused on anything. “That . . . that was my mom, right?”

“Of course it was,” Otto said. “Red hair, killer fashion sense, super evil. She’s pretty distinctive.” He gave a nervous chuckle.

Pip was frowning. “Right. She was in the January Society, so she was there when they tried to give us to Mr. January?”

“Yes,” Eleanor said slowly.

“I think I remember that,” Pip said. Her brow furrowed. “Was she nice before? Did I like her?”

Eleanor’s mouth fell open. One of the first things she’d ever known about Pip was that she hated her mother, and thought she was evil, even before they figured out it was literally true. Her whole childhood had been shaped by her mother’s casual cruelty.

“She was horrible,” Otto said, looking stricken. “She was always awful.”

“Oh, okay,” Pip said. She rubbed the back of her neck. “I guess I can’t be that upset that I don’t remember her, then.”

“That’s a pretty big thing to forget,” Eleanor said, struggling to keep her voice even. “What else have you forgotten?”