Finally, Finblewick dragged three tan leather suitcases from the back. They had rounded brass corners, extendable wheels and the Guild symbol in silver in the top left corner.

“Right, that’s everything. Now, pack up and be out of my sight,” said Finblewick, disappearing out the back and slamming the door.

“Wait, we need to know how to get to the Guild,” Prue called after him.

Cora laughed. “Silly, I know the way. I see that I’m going to have to take on the responsibility of guiding your naïve farm feet around the city, or you’re likely be flattened by a tram. Honestly, Agapantha, you should’ve seen her bewildered little face!” Cora pulled an exaggerated shocked expression while Agapantha flashed Prue an apologetic smile.

Agapantha didn’t say much, but Prue warmed to her much more than Cora.

By the time they stepped back out into Smithy Door, the sun was halfway behind the metal spires in the west. They made their way to the main square, where people and personifates were still hurrying about. In their smart new apprentice uniforms, the three girls drew glances and people stepped out of their way. Prue spotted a couple of mustard gold jackets in the crowds, and a ruby one – craftsmen and a master.

As they crossed the square, Prue noticed a large group had gathered down one of the roads.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“The Sovereign Chancellery is down there,” said Cora.

“Really! Oh, I’d love to see it. Could we go and have a look? Have we got time?” said Prue.

Cora sighed. “Well, I suppose, as it’s all such a novelty to you, Frances.”

They hurried over to where people gathered around an expensive-looking mechanicart that had come to rest outside a great white building.

A personifate fox unhitched the steps of the carriage.

“Governor Watson-Wentworth is very popular with the people, and the personifates,” Cora said. “He’s the one who introduced the Personifates for All, and All for the Personifates bill.”

“That’s the Governor’s cart?” asked Prue.

“You really do live in the middle of nowhere, don’t you?”

A middle-aged man stepped from the carriage. He wore a sky-blue jacket with matching shawl, cravat, and a golden waistcoat. He glanced at his reflection in the carriage window and ran a hand through his wavy, brown hair. The crowd pressed in, pushing the apprentices closer.