Barry reached into his pocket, automatically doing as I’d instructed. Then he paused. ‘Hang on. Why should I do that?’

‘Because you were my producer, Barry. You were supposed to be looking out for me and I almost died.’ That was something of an exaggeration but I needed transport.

‘Are you going to give them back?’

‘Sure.’ I couldn’t have sounded less convincing.

Amy nudged Barry and he exhaled resignedly. ‘Fine. Here you go.’

‘Great. I need my phone back too.’

‘It’s in our room with the rest of your things,’ Amy said. ‘I took them all back after…’ She swallowed.

‘Thanks. One final thing – has anyone seen Armstrong?’

Moonbeam let out a humourless smirk. ‘He got back just before you did. You walked right by him.’ He pointed over to the bar.

I followed his finger. Slumped in the corner was the familiar figure of Enchantment’s director. He no longer looked despotic or even fully conscious. The best word I could think of to describe him was crumpled. I’d have felt some sympathy for him if I could have found the time.

‘Thanks,’ I muttered, pocketing the keys. ‘I’m going out for a few hours. Amy, if I’m not back by the time dawn breaks, call this number.’ I scribbled down the Ipsissimus’s direct line onto a napkin. ‘Tell him I’ve disappeared, then all of you need to get as far away from here as possible.’

Even Moonbeam seemed to register how serious my tone was. ‘Why? What’s going to happen?’

‘Nothing you need to worry about yet. But tomorrow morning…’

He drained his pint and stood up. ‘Screw that. I’m collecting my mother and we’re getting out of here.’ He stalked out.

‘Don’t worry, Ivy,’ Amy said softly. ‘I can do that for you.’

I smiled my thanks and walked over to Armstrong. ‘Hello buddy!’ I chirped.

He didn’t even look up. ‘What do you want?’

‘Don’t be like that. I’m your superspy, remember?’

He raised his eyes balefully. ‘You never gave me any useful intel at all.’

‘Well, that was hardly my fault.’ I nodded at the barman. ‘I’ll have a vodka,’ I said. ‘This gentleman is paying.’

‘Make that two,’ Armstrong grunted.

Hmm. He already looked well on his way to the Land of Toilet Hugging as it was. I’d better make this quick. ‘You told me when we started that this area was chosen because of historical links to magic. I need to know what exactly.’

‘What does it matter now?’

‘It’s important, Morris.’

He scanned my face. ‘It was a family. Apparently there were several witches. Things didn’t go well for them and most were burned at the stake.’ He made a vague attempt at looking apologetic. ‘Those were the times.’

‘Which times exactly?’

‘Around the turn of the nineteenth century.’

It seemed almost inconceivable that their magical bloodline had continued since then without anyone noticing but I had to be sure. I swallowed. I really didn’t want to know the answer but I had to ask – everything hinged on it. ‘What was their name?’