“Right,” came Baines’s voice. Isaac turned. The other children trailed in behind Baines. “I’ve called you here for a purpose. It’s high time you were exposed to some healthy physical activity. The woods around this castle are badly in need of grooming. Miss Bateson?” Baines said, looking at Kat.

She glared back at him.

“Where are tools and such?”

“I’m sorry?” Kat said.

“Garden tools,” Baines said slowly, as if speaking to someone who couldn’t understand English.

Kat answered equally slowly. “In the garden tool shed, I expect.”

“Jolly good. You shall all put on weatherproof clothing and shoes and make ready for outdoor activity.”

“Um,” said Colin, “it’s frightfully cold and wet today.”

Baines sighed. “And what of it? You are English, are you not?”

“We’re here to learn our magic,” Kat said tartly, “and we were about to start lessons.”

“That can wait,” Baines said, with a smirk. “The woods are a fright.”

“We can’t go past the boundary,” Amelie said.

“Boundary?” Baines echoed. “The only boundary is a mile off.” He clapped his hands together. “Coats and galoshes and back here in five minutes.”

They looked at one another in astonishment until he clapped his hands again. “Chop-chop.”

As they marched upstairs, Isaac whispered to Kat, “What about spelling him again?”

“Oh, I shall,” she answered darkly. “I’m looking for the right time and trying to come up with the perfect spell. And I don’t want to make a mistake. Much as that might be interesting,” she added with a snort.

“Telling him to take a leap might turn him into a frog,” Amelie added with a giggle.

“Or hop to it,” said Colin. “Or jump through hoops.”

Five minutes later the five children and Baines trooped in boots and mackintoshes through the hallways of the castle toward the kitchen. As they passed through to the back door, Baines stopped in his tracks.

“And who are you?” he asked.

Lark made a deep curtsy. “Lark, chief cook and bottle washer,” she answered. Today she was wearing a green skirt and jumper that matched her skin and her hair was flaming red. Above her, Willow hovered, rolling, as near as Isaac could tell, their eyes.

“A flower,” Willow said with a snicker.

Baines drew up. “Now, see here. How can a child of your age . . .”

“I’m one hundred and thirty-seven, if you don’t mind,” Lark answered, drawing herself up to her full three feet. “I haven’t been a child for eleven years. Officially.”

Isaac was gobsmacked but he wouldn’t show it. Willow made a rude noise.

Baines’s mouth dropped open and then he shut it quick. He muttered, “All. All completely daft.” He cleared his throat and said, “We’re going out for some exercise, which is good for body and mind. Get your gear.”

Lark narrowed her eyes at him. “I shan’t.”

“Hah,” said Willow. “Now, that’s the ticket.”