Flax unbuckled the satchel and reached inside.

Her fingers closed over a thread of wild magic.

She held it carefully so it couldn’t escape, and drew it out of the satchel.

She tied three knots, one at each end of the thread and one in the middle.

It sounds easy, doesn’t it? You are probably thinking that you could work magic, too, if only you had the right sort of thread.

After all, most people can tie knots.

But human fingers are far too big for such delicate work. And besides, these weren’t just any old knots.

The first knot Flax tied was so small that not even she could see it.

And minch-wiggins have very good eyesight.

The second knot was so quiet that not even she could hear it.

And minch-wiggins have AMAZING ears.

The third knot was the hardest. Flax started it one way, then changed her mind halfway through.

She mumbled, ‘Um—’ and, ‘I don’t know whether—’ and, ‘Maybe if—’

She undid it and tried again. But this time she held her breath until she was done.

‘I think I’ve got it,’ she muttered. ‘Pup, can you smell this knot?’

The pup sniffed the thread. ‘Nope. Nothing.’

‘Good,’ said Flax.

She put her hand on the pup’s shoulder, so the magic would affect him, too. And she swallowed the thread.

The pup watched her anxiously. ‘Did it work?’

‘I … don’t know.’ Flax had expected something big and dramatic. But nothing had changed – except for her nose, which was suddenly dreadfully itchy.

‘I can still see us,’ said the pup.

‘So can I.’

‘We’d better test it, huh?’ The pup raised his head and sniffed the air. ‘There’s some people over that way. Let’s try it out on them.’

The people-over-that-way turned out to be the same sort of bleating creatures that had run from Flax and the pup earlier. They were crowded under a tree with a lumpy trunk and twisted branches.

Standing in front of them was an entirely different sort of creature.

‘Is that a giant minch-wiggin?’ whispered the pup, crouching in the long grass with Flax on his back.

Flax blinked. The creature walked on two legs like a minch-wiggin. And it had hands like a minch-wiggin, instead of paws or hoofs.

But it was much too big, its ears were the wrong shape, and it didn’t have whiskers or a black-tipped tail.

‘I think,’ she whispered, ‘it might be a human.’

She tried to remember Grandpa’s stories about humans.

They were big, that was the main thing.

And not very clever.

Or was that trolls?

The pup crept towards the tree, ready to turn and run if he and Flax were seen. But the bleating creatures ignored them.

So did the human.

‘Burble,’ it said. ‘Gomp. Skirleen. Squawkeen. Miffteen—’

‘What’s it doing?’ whispered the pup.

‘Counting, I think.’

‘I wonder if it can hear us. Hello? HELLOOO?’

‘Shhhhhh!’ hissed Flax.

But the human didn’t even turn its head. ‘Mempty-dun,’ it counted. ‘Mempty-boo. Memptyzee—’

The pup crept out of the grass with Flax clinging to the scruff of his neck. He sniffed the human’s legs. He sneezed.

‘Shhhhhhh!’ said Flax again.

‘Derpty,’ said the human. ‘Derpty-dun. Derpty-boo—’

‘It’s all right, it can’t see us,’ cried the pup. ‘It can’t hear us or smell us! Your magic is AMAZING, Flax! Now we can get my parents back!’

And with Flax still clutching his neck, he galloped away from the human and after the dragon.