Buckle up, kids, because here comes the soppy bit.

First of all, I would like to thank YOU. Yes, YOU, sitting and reading this right now. And pancakes, for fuelling the majority of writing this book into the wee hours of the night.

Mostly the pancakes.

No, seriously, thank you, dear reader – for picking up this book and giving Casander, Warrior, Paws, Fenix and all at Wayward School a chance. This book was never intended to be written (“I’ll never write a children’s fantasy!” she infamously exclaimed into the void), but it was for a very special reason close to my heart, and so I hope that you’ve enjoyed coming along on this crazy journey and the many more adventures to come.

Next, I would like to thank Josephine Hayes and Jordan Lees at The Blair Partnership. My agents, my superstars, my knights in shining armour. Jo was the first person to ever read Casander Darkbloom and the Threads of Power and Jordan is the one who has championed it the whole way through. You made sharing my – and by extension, Casander’s – story less scary. Never judging, always encouraging. For ever on hand. Neither Cas nor I would be here today without you. Thank you to everyone else at TBP involved as well, including the hard-working legal and foreign rights teams. Many thanks to my incredible editors, Denise Johnstone-Burt, Emily McDonnell and Megan Middleton at Walker Books, for being considerate and respectful, insightful and passionate, but most of all for giving Casander the best home. A big shout out too to Maia Fjord, my designer at Walker, and Nathan Collins, my illustrator, for your incredible artistic talent and somehow managing to pull images of characters and places directly out of my head. There’s a good reason I could never find any nit-picks or faults.

To M, my best friend, my soulmate, for always being there even when you’re not. To my parents, for supporting me through everything. To Mum, for even in the darkest of times, telling me to “write, write, write!”. To Dad, for the rare “well done” and always telling me that I couldn’t do something, making me want to prove you wrong. To Isobel, for being the perpetually annoying pain in my backside who kept me going. To Ellie CG, Ellie R and Lauren, for being the ultimate cheerleaders, and the WymCol Gang for the same – even when we’re scattered and apart. To my grandparents, for the never-ending support. To Holly, for all the late-night doggy cuddles whilst drafting. To Becki Ali, for being my first editor aged 7 (I promised I would one day credit you). And to every English teacher who put up with my fifty-page-long short stories and let me doodle fiction at the back of the classroom, instead of cracking on with the actual work.