“I shouldn’t have hidden us away either. I should have been brave, had courage. I should have done the right thing for Bella. I should have joined the wanderers.”

I pressed my fingers to my forehead. My eyes ached.

“I’m sorry, Maggie.” He placed his mug back down on the table. “We have more immediate matters to deal with. Your own wanderers, beyond the hawthorn. Tell me how I can help.”

I told him all about Trig’s jumper. I told him how I’d met Una and how I’d helped her. I even told him about the antibiotics.

“So that’s where they went to,” he said.

I told him about meeting Mr Opal and how I thought he might have been one of the wanderers who’d killed Mr Wetheral’s family but I knew that wasn’t true any more.

I told him about wanting to be a hero and a wanderer catcher and how I didn’t even know what was right and what was wrong any more, or who was good and who was bad.

And I told him how Mayor Anderson was taking Una to camp and how Mr Opal said he’d already sent his eldest to camp and actually that was the main reason why I was here because I didn’t know if it was true or not.

I opened the book cover and slid out the photo and there was Felix staring up at me with his gappy grin and his yellow hair. Una’s brother.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve stopped to take a breath, Maggie,” said Mr Wetheral. “Might I have a look?”

He turned it over. The back was blank.

“There’s something written in the corner,” I said. “Mr Opal said it proved Felix had gone to camp. But it’s too tiny to read.”

He turned it face up again and peered into the corners. “Aha.” He held up a pausing finger. He put the photo down, picked up his stick and made his way over to the other side of the room. He rummaged through a drawer and brought something out. A something wrapped in cloth.

He sat down again, photo on his knees, and unwrapped the cloth.

It was a piece of glass, perfectly round, framed in wood. A handle stuck out from one side. He gave it a polish with its cloth, thumb on top, fingers underneath. Just like Grandad Cruise polishing his spectacles.

He held it up.

I frowned.

“It’s a magnifying glass. Take a look.” He hovered it over the photograph.

Felix’s left eye became enormous. As the glass moved every part of his face grew huge, then shrank again as it passed.

“Wow,” I said.