She shivered, and turned over. That was a nightmare she didn’t intend to happen.

Fiercely she told herself not to worry.

Tomorrow she would get things sorted things out.

Tomorrow.

Starting with the Box.

6

Ask it politely

Cross words never

make things better.

But by twelve o’clock the next morning she was leaning her head on her arms, thoroughly annoyed and irritated. ‘I give UP! This is hopeless! What else can we do?’

The Box lay on the table, surrounded by all the tools they had used to try to open it. Paper knives and penknives. Scissors and saws. Screwdrivers and letter slitters.

On the sofa by the fireplace the Crow lay on its back, giving the faintest of moans. ‘Don’t ask me. I’ve used every spell I know. I’m EXHAUSTED.’

They had completely run out of ideas, and there was the Box with its starry lid sealed as tightly shut as ever. And still no sign of the Swan on its lid.

Far off, the kitchen bell rang.

‘Lunch!’ Tomos jumped up. ‘Oh and it’s parsnip soup today. Come on, Seren. Let’s go!’

Seren was only too glad to scramble after him, but the Crow glowered and sank deeper into its feathers.

‘Parsnip soup! How lovely – for some! With scones, no doubt. CHEESE scones.’

‘We won’t be long, honestly,’ Seren said, from the door.

‘Take all the time you want.’ The Crow pecked viciously at the Box. ‘I’m going absolutely nowhere!’

Seren had hoped for a peaceful time to think about things, but in the kitchen it was incredibly hot and busy, even with all the windows open. Two extra cooks had been brought in to help with preparations for the Ball and all the other servants were working hard too. Dough was being rolled out, chickens plucked and cakes baked. Gwyn was carrying a high pile of vegetables backwards through the door. He dumped them in the pantry and waved at Seren.

‘Come and eat now, with Seren and Master Tomos,’ Mrs Villiers snapped. ‘But first wash your hands.’

A small table was laid for them in the corner, out of the bustle. Denzil sat there already, sipping an enormous mug of tea, and smoking his small clay pipe.

For a while Seren, Tomos and Gwyn just ate. Then, when she was comfortably full, Seren said, ‘Denzil. Listen. Something’s happened.’

They all looked at her.

‘Due to an … um … unfortunate mistake, some extra invitations were written. To um, well, to Them.’

Tomos said, ‘What?’ and Gwyn muttered something she didn’t understand in Welsh. They both looked dismayed, but not as much as Denzil.

The small man stared at her. His silence was scary. He took his pipe out and looked down at it. ‘This is bad, girl. Very bad. How did it happen?’

‘Well, like I said, it was a mistake.’ Seren caught Tomos’s eye – she didn’t want to get him into trouble for bringing the green pen into the house. ‘It was no one’s fault, and we are going to try to stop Them, honestly, if we can.’