Ian let out a quiet groan. After a moment, with a sigh, like the weight of the world’s grief had suddenly fallen upon her, Primrose reached for the silver chain around her neck. Mika saw now that there was a familiar-looking locket at the end of the necklace, only this one was engraved with the letter P.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Lucie, of all people, which was almost as shocking as anything else that had happened today.

Primrose put the locket away. “Lillian was my sister. My twin sister. We were identical. We were born Peony and Lily Smith, but we changed our names when we left our aunt and uncle’s home at the age of twenty. We never wanted them to find us, you see.”

“Wait,” Mika said slowly, conscious of something odd. “You said your sister was dead. You already knew Lillian was dead?”

“We hadn’t seen each other in about fifteen years, but I felt it the moment she was gone.” Primrose’s eyes searched the grounds, tracing the gables and chimneys of the house rather wistfully. “So this was her home. We lived apart after we left home, but it was only in the last thirty years or so that she became secretive about where she was living. We had a difficult relationship.”

Mika looked at Jamie and found him looking back at her. There was no blame on his face, but she felt furious with herself anyway. No, there was no way she could have known Primrose had once had a different name, or what that name was, but even so, she couldn’t believe what she’d done.

Primrose knew Lillian was dead. Primrose was Lillian’s sister, which made her the girls’ guardian. And Primrose had very fixed ideas about how young witches should be raised and a cast-iron will giving her the authority to do exactly what she wanted with these three particular young witches. The only reason she hadn’t turned up to take the girls sooner was because she hadn’t known they existed, or where to find them, and Mika had just told her both of those things.

Mika took a breath of cold sea air. One thing at a time. First the gargoyle, then the gorgon.

If only she’d known that the gorgon was a whole lot more powerful than she’d suspected.

“Minerva Hawthorn!” Primrose suddenly exclaimed, and Ian looked startled. “You’re Minerva Hawthorn’s son! My word, I haven’t seen you since you were knee-high.”

Ian gave her a weak smile. “I’m afraid I don’t remember that.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” Primrose’s eyes drifted back to the house, like she was searching for some trace of Lillian in it. “Was she happy in the end? Lillian?”

Mika saw the others glance at each other. “In her own way, she was,” Lucie said cautiously. “She was often away. She was an archaeologist.”