‘Oh, you should have seen it, Seren!’ Enoch muttered. ‘How there was smoke and chiming and song, and how he walked out of the fire not even singed.’

‘Yes well, I’m here now.’ He turned to Lady Mair and bowed. ‘My name, Madam, is Mordecai Marchmain, Schoolmaster. At your service. I understand these children are without a tutor. Allow me to put myself forward. I have several degrees from various Oxford colleges in…’

He caught Seren’s stern eye and stopped.

‘Well. Maybe just one degree. But I assure you I am proficient in all subjects and will be perfect for your children. I already feel I know them very well.’

‘It’s very strange,’ Lady Mair said, ‘but I almost feel I know you, too. How wonderful!’

Mordecai Marchmain bowed gravely.

‘Of course, you must come and teach them! But first, look! There are the fireworks!’

Loud cracks and bangs. Huge whoops and flashes of light. Everyone hurried outside. Tomos dragged his mother away and Captain Jones put his arms round a few friends and hurried them out.

Only Seren and the Crow were left.

‘You know you’ll always be the Crow to me,’ she said.

Mordecai Marchmain shuddered. ‘Good grief. I hope not. All those moth holes! All those itchy feathers. I will never forget it as long as I live.’

‘Won’t you miss it at all?’

‘Not a bit. And if you’d been a bird for hundreds of years you wouldn’t even ask so rubbish a question. Kek kek.’

Seren grinned. Suddenly she felt so happy she thought she would burst apart, so she ran towards the door. ‘Come on! The fireworks!’

But his jewel-bright eyes had fixed on something. He hurried towards it. ‘Just a moment. Oh good heavens! Oh, how I have dreamed of this … I have craved … I can’t tell you, Seren…’

A pile of creamy yellow cheese.

The Crow picked up a piece and nibbled it. ‘Oh my goodness!’

He ate more. ‘Oh heavens! Oh joy! Oh … fabulosity.’

Seren was dancing with impatience. ‘Bring the plate with you,’ she said, ‘or we’ll miss all the fireworks.’

But he was already piling plate on plate.

‘I’ve got so much to catch up on. I’m as thin as a rake.’

Seren laughed. ‘I don’t think you will be for long,’ she said.

And she dragged him outside, where the sky was a mass of falling golden stars.

Copyright

First published in 2020

by Firefly Press

25 Gabalfa Road, Llandaff North, Cardiff, CF14 2JJ

Copyright © Catherine Fisher 2020

The author asserts her moral right to be identified as author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act, 1988.