There was a pause, during which she had the misfortune of not only realising that he, too, had heard the unmistakable yet but also of remembering what had happened to make her feel like she’d been hit by a bus in the first place, and then Jamie cleared his throat and said, “You okay?”

“I think I can open my eyes now.”

She was rather sorry to lose the warmth of his hand, but she needed to get her head round what was going on. Carefully cracking one eye open and then the other, she blinked slowly. She was in her room in the attic. It had to be the middle of the day, if the sun was any indication. She was still wearing the pink jeans and white jumper she’d had on when she’d last been conscious. Her rocking chair had been pulled up close beside her bed, its cushions wrinkled like someone had been sprawled in the chair for hours. And Jamie was sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.

He stood now. He looked exhausted, the shadows under his eyes darker than usual, and his brown stubble rougher and bristlier than it had been the last time she’d seen him. “I’ll go tell the others you’re awake.”

“Wait.”

He paused for an instant, then dropped into the chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Meh,” Mika said. “How long have I been out?”

“Twenty-six hours.”

“Jesus. I must have been in hibernation.” She felt for her throat, for the green leaf that Primrose had once mentioned was a sure sign of a witch’s hibernation, and there it was. She plucked it free from her skin and put it down on the bed beside her.

“Ian told us that was what it was called,” said Jamie. “I was going to call an ambulance, but he saw this”—he picked up the green leaf—“and he said the same thing happened to his mother once. He was very sure.”

“He was right,” Mika said. “How come you’re here?”

He rubbed his jaw, not quite looking her in the eye. “We’ve been taking shifts.”

“You’ve been here the whole time, haven’t you?”

“I was a little reluctant to leave, yes,” he admitted, a faint smile lifting one side of his mouth. “So was Terracotta. She only just left, and only because Lucie made her go downstairs for lunch.”

“Neither of you had to do that.”

He cleared his throat. “I wanted to thank you. For what you did. For taking all the blowback to protect her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s a child. I have as many faults as the next person—”

“As I’m the next person, I’d say you probably have fewer,” Jamie remarked.