“Angus was very helpful by working out how to free us from the creature’s trap and we hid in the upper branches of its tree,” Gumble said. “It was a bit chilling to see myself cut to ribbons. Now, what about this dragon? What’s been going on here? All we could tell was that a storm had the castle under siege.”

Colin and Isaac exchanged a look. “We have much to tell,” Isaac said.

Wyvern flew to the castle tower and curled his great green body around it and settled down comfortably, after dislodging a few loose roof tiles.

The other children were jubilant to see Gumble. Her mechanical double was removed from the kitchen—“Easy, now,” said MacLarren. “She be a tad too familiar”—to be buried in a far corner of the castle grounds.

Willow had found Canut and Lark had unspelled him, and Colin rolled on the floor with his giant dog as Canut slobbered happily.

Baines was the worst victim. They found him still spelled in the small library. A bird had begun to build a nest in his outstretched hand.

Kat whispered in his ear, “Return.”

A shimmer surrounded the man as the gold misted away. He blinked, then blinked again, looking at the partially built nest he held. “I had the most interesting dream,” he said vacantly. “Magic is wonderful. Don’t you believe in magic?”

The others exchanged surprised looks.

“Excuse me. I must fulfill my mission. Off to destroy the world.”

“Oh dear,” said Kat. “My spell wouldn’t have done that to him.”

“I do believe,” Miss Gumble said, “a little trouble is brewing.”

“I bet Moloch had a hand in it,” said Leo.

“Lark?” said Kat. “Can you help him?”

“I can get rid of the bad parts,” Lark said, and she mumbled.

Baines paused, and said, “Ah, but wait. I am a tree. Must go outside. A bit of fresh air, that’s the ticket. Must put down roots, that sort of thing. Use magic to make new leaves. Jolly good.” He turned and shuffled for the door.

Willow chortled.

“I’ll see to it that he doesn’t wander off,” said Leo.

Repairing the castle would take effort. The stone walls, portraits, and tapestries were damaged, and dead leaves littered the floors. Amelie worked with Willow to magic some brooms but it would take time to repair everything.

“Well,” said Gumble as they listened to the swish, swish of the brooms, “we have plenty of kindling for the fires.”

Lark danced around the dinner table, trying to get them all to try her special celebration pie. Gumble must have been still a bit woozy because she took a big bite. And then froze, eyes wide.

“Lark,” said Amelie sweetly, “sugar? Or salt?”

“Oh, dear,” Lark said. “Or maybe baking soda? They all look so much alike.”

*   *   *