By the time she got to the beach and kicked her wellies off, Circe was frolicking in the water, barking in tandem with a pair of seals farther out. A cold wind blew in from the water, with a fine spray of salt, and Mika stuck her tongue out to taste it.

She marvelled at how empty the world seemed from here. There was a fishing boat far out on the water, but the only other person Mika could see was just a speck a long, long way down the beach. It was lovely, but unexpected. November was certainly not the season of ice lollies and families slathered in sun cream, but where were the elderly dog walkers in their tweed coats and the artists with their canvases and windblown hair?

The only explanation she could think of was that Lillian’s wards extended all the way out here. If that was the case, she was very powerful.

Circe ran over, barking joyfully. She leapt up to put muddy, salty paws on Mika’s shoulders and give her a very wet kiss. Then she was gone again, off to befriend the seals once more, and Mika laughed and let her.

Once Circe was well and truly tired out, they trotted back up to the house together. Circe shook herself dry (or dryish, anyway) and went to a warm, sunny spot in the front room for a nap. Mika was tempted by the possibility of a nap herself, but she went upstairs to the attic instead.

There, she plucked the sea holly heads out of her pocket and carefully stripped them into their separate parts. Petals, pollen, the sap from inside the stems—these were usually the most useful parts of any plant, and she stored each of these safely in tiny glass vials retrieved from her potion kit.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor with everything laid out around her, she reached out for the fine gold threads of magic in the air and set a small witchfire going under the smaller of her cauldrons. Then she opened her spellbook to a blank page, bit the end of her pencil, and brainstormed ideas. Finally, after a few false starts, she was satisfied with the short list she’d come up with:

2 sea holly petals

1 drop of sea holly sap

1/2 teaspoon of crushed pearl

1 drop of moonlight

Mika carefully measured each of the ingredients and dropped them into the cauldron. As the witchfire warmed the cauldron up, she watched the mixture combine and simmer down to a sparkling, bluish syrup. Potion-making was more of an art than a science, and it relied on a witch’s instincts, but Mika had been experimenting and practicing for so long now that her instincts were good.