Cordelia’s wings whirred frantically within their trap. The spider’s hairy brown body settled into place just above her, filling every facet of her compound vision. Its jointed jaw cracked open. Dark fangs flashed. Venom trembled at their tips …

And the web broke with a snap as Cordelia lunged upward. Her tiny, helpless moth body had shifted into a massive black crow, whose claws ripped the web around her to hapless shreds. Her long, sharp beak seized the big brown spider and swallowed it whole with a harsh “cawwww!” of defiance.

Grandmother’s voice cut off abruptly below.

Too late to be stealthy now! Cordelia tore her way free of the web-dense rafters and dived down like vengeance with her long claws fiercely outstretched.

Some things are instinctive even for the most powerful people. Faced with a screaming crow diving directly at her eyes, Grandmother flinched, hands flying up to shield her face. It was only for an instant—but that was enough. Cordelia swooped over her dark head and through the high, narrow window beyond, where the wooden shutter had been propped open to let bright daylight inside.

Black feathers scattered in her wake as she squeezed through. Only a moment later, she was a tiny, near-invisible mosquito hovering against the outer wall above the window—and as the front door of the cottage burst open and Grandmother lunged outside in pursuit, she nipped swiftly and silently back in.

Run! Connall had ordered her. Don’t turn back for anything! But she wasn’t running anywhere without Giles and Rosalind. Families were supposed to protect each other, even if her own grandmother didn’t understand that.

Turning back into girl form, she lunged across the room to wrap her arms around the big, round oak table and half shove, half haul it across the rush-covered floor. Groaning with effort, she pushed it hard against the door. There. With luck, Grandmother would take a long time to hunt for the bird who’d so mysteriously attacked her and then disappeared. Anyone trained in magic would have to know there had been nothing natural in that attack. She might even think that the bird had been a spy from some rival sorcerer.

But the moment she gave up her search …

Cordelia hurtled across the rushes and dropped to her knees before the cedar chest in the corner, nerves jangling through every breath. With shaking fingers, she turned the heavy copper key and flung open the lid.

“Wake up!” she whisper-screamed at her triplets, who still slept tangled in their pile. “Wake up now!”

But they didn’t listen to her when they were asleep any more than they did when awake.

Behind her, the door of the cottage rattled. A moan of protest broke from her lips.

Too soon! She hadn’t managed to wake either of them yet. She couldn’t break the spell on her own, no matter what Connall thought. Grandmother’s potion was too powerful.