Mika’s heart thumped a little faster. When Ken had told her that Lillian had adopted the children, she’d assumed that they’d been adopted at the same time from the same family, which would have made it impossible for them to be witches. Unless she was a twin, which was uncommon, a witch almost never had biological sisters who were also witches. It was an inevitable consequence of the whole orphan situation.

But these girls weren’t related to each other, and, moreover, even from all the way over here, Mika could see the unmistakable gold dust motes of magic around them. The power sang to her, like calling to like, and she had to hold herself very still to resist.

Oh, goodness. They really were—

“The oldest is Rosetta,” Jamie cut into the tumult of her thoughts, his tone still sharp and suspicious. “She’s ten. Lillian found her in London when she was about three months old, after a fire killed her parents. The one with straight black hair is Terracotta. She’s eight. Lillian found her in a tiny Vietnamese town when she was a year old. Her parents had died of a fever that decimated half their town, the same fever that was killing her grandmother when Lillian arrived. And the youngest, Altamira, is seven. Lillian found her in the rubble of a Palestinian hospital when she was a few days old.”

Mika had mixed feelings about this, not least because it sounded so much like what Primrose had done to her, but now was not the time to have that particular conversation.

“Unusual names,” she commented.

The others had come up to the doors, too, so it was Lucie who replied: “Lillian named them all after great archaeological discoveries.”

“At least one of them must have already had a name when she found them,” Mika pointed out. She had. She didn’t know what it was, just that she hadn’t been born with the last name Moon. “You said Terracotta was a whole year old when Lillian found her.”

“She didn’t want anyone to be able to track them down, considering what they are.”

“How are you so sure they’re witches? It is just because Lillian said so?”

But there was no need for anyone to answer her, for at that exact moment, as Mika watched the three girls in their tree house, she saw the youngest trot over to the rope ladder. The moment the child’s foot touched the ladder, it burst into bright green flames.

CHAPTER THREE

Jesus fucking Christ,” said Mika.

“No need to worry,” said Ian cheerfully. “This happens at least twice a day. No one ever gets hurt. Not even the ladder.”