Polly steps into position again, her feet facing the three bright stones. She closes her eyes and begins to recite the spell. Her heartbeat slows and she feels her feet become as solid as the rock beneath her. Warmth travels through her toes, up her legs, into her chest and along her arms. Finally it reaches her fingertips and they begin to crackle and fizz. Suddenly, a rush of heat flashes through her body and her arms fly upwards.

Polly opens her eyes. All around her are the sighs and moans of the ghosts as they drift upwards like pale grey mist, and soon the cavern is quiet. She looks at the gorvan’s wall. The purple fog is clearing. Soon, the rock face is as clear as the other three walls of the chamber and she knows the spell has worked. From deep below the ground she hears a gentle rumbling. The gorvan is asleep.

Polly turns to the spot where her father had hovered and sighs deeply. She misses him as much as she ever did, maybe even more, but the pain in her heart doesn’t feel like a useless pain now that she has had the chance to say goodbye.

She pictures the faces of the monsters and witches receiving messages from their ghostly loved ones, gone, but never forgotten. She can only imagine what happy-sadness they will feel.

Now that the gorvan sleeps again, Polly hopes that Blackmoon Coven will return to the quiet, peaceful town it once was.

And, who knows? she wonders, feeling unexpectedly hopeful now that the wooziness of the spell and the darkness of the gorvan have begun to lift, Maybe there might even come a time when no one bats an eye at a witch and a monster being friends?

Polly turns to look at Buster. Her oldest, dearest friend. They are the only two left in this quiet gloom. He is sitting with his back against a rock wall and his tummy is rumbling loudly.

‘Are you OK?’ he asks Polly kindly, standing up and brushing dust off his bottom. ‘That was a pretty big spell you did just now, wasn’t it?’

‘It was,’ says Polly, smiling. She nods her head up and down slowly to see if she still feels a little dizzy. ‘You know what?’ she says, patting her arms. ‘I actually don’t feel too bad.’

‘Great!’ Buster says. ‘Maybe you are getting better at them?’

‘Maybe,’ says Polly. ‘Don’t tell Miss Spinnaker though, will you? Three spells out of school grounds means I could be expelled from Miss Madden’s.’

‘I won’t,’ Buster promises. And he draws a finger across his lips to show they are sealed. ‘So, do you think that might be all you need to do here?’

‘I think so,’ Polly says.

‘Yay!’ Buster says happily. ‘That means we can go home then, right?’

‘Right,’ says Polly.

‘Oh, thank moonbeams!’ says Buster, eagerly leading the way. ‘I’m starving!’

‘Me too,’ says Polly. And it’s true. It feels like years since they ate Mortimer’s flipcakes with Flora’s sparkle syrup for breakfast.

Polly picks up the stones from the ground, one by one, and drops them back into the little silk pouch. Their light is growing dimmer and they have begun to cool. And even though Polly is hungry and sad and bone-achingly tired, she knows she has done a good thing.

Her father would be proud of her.