She generally had perfect control of her subjects, but they were a superstitious lot, and she could see this might get out of hand.

“I smell WITCHES!” cried the Witchsmeller again, holding his shaking finger to the heavens in a voice of DOOM.

Mad as a box load of frogs. Nuttier than a tree full of squirrels… thought the queen.

“I can sniff out Magic, wherever it may be hiding,” snarled the Witchsmeller. “I will move through the crowd and point at any person who is concealing Magic…”

Now there was a dreadful silence in the courtyard, and you did not need the nose of a Witchsmeller to detect the smell of fear.

Nerves and sweat.

Wish could feel herself getting very hot, and her clothes itching her neck and back.

“Murmuring mistletoe, you’ve never actually met a real Witch, have you, pest controller?” said Queen Sychorax, drumming her fingers on the arms of her throne in great irritation. “You’d know it if you saw one… a big feathered thing with green blood and talons…”

“Those kind of Witches are extinct!” screamed the Witchsmeller. “I’m talking about the modern Witches! The Witches in our midst!”

“You won’t find any Magic here, pest controller,” said Queen Sychorax, yawning. “I keep a very clean castle.”

Wish tried to half hide behind her stepsister Drama, to make herself even smaller, so she would not be noticed. Her hair was so alarmingly frizzy and alive that she was having to hold it down forcibly with both arms. Maybe no one would notice.

Please don’t let the finger land on me…

Please.

If that finger lands on me, I’m never going to be allowed out of that Punishment Cupboard EVER AGAIN…

My mother is going to be SO disappointed…

But that will be the least of my worries because I also may be DEAD…

And here the quivering nose was right behind her. Sniff, sniff, sniff.

The finger paused, she could almost feel it, the bony digit about to press itself into her back, like the spooky white bone of a chicken. It would happen in one second, two…

Wish could not bear it, the agony of suspense. She closed her one eye.

Please don’t let the finger land on me.

Please.

The finger paused behind her—it was about to land on her, she knew it…