Rose was running so fast it felt like flying.

She had never had anything to do with magic before—

Actually, she had. But she was much too young to remember it.

She had never had anything to do with magic before, and it thrilled her.

Her feet skimmed over the road. The wind whistled past her ears. Her heart sang.

When they came to a large village she pulled up her collar and kept her head down so no one would recognise her from the coins and stamps, and kept running.

She flew past an inn, a school, and a row of shops. Women turned and stared. A man shouted in astonishment. A trio of boys tried in vain to catch her.

Rose raced past them all with Flax clinging to her collar and the tiny sword banging against her shoulder.

‘Faster,’ cried the minch-wiggin, and her voice was whisked away by the wind. ‘Faster!’

They caught up with a red automobile and passed it, while the passengers goggled at them. They passed a green automobile that nearly ran off the road when the driver saw them.

They passed a black automobile, but it was the wrong one.

And then they came to a crossroads.

Rose stopped so abruptly that Flax nearly lost her grip.

‘Which way?’ asked Rose. ‘Which way should we go?’

Flax mumbled something that Rose couldn’t hear. She nodded. She shook her head, as if she was arguing with herself.

Then she unbuckled her satchel and took out another tiny thread.

The knot she tied was so complicated that Rose had to blink and blink again to keep track of it. But just as she thought Flax had completely lost the end of the thread, it turned up in the right place.

‘Magic,’ whispered Rose. Her fingers tingled with excitement.

‘Finding magic,’ said Flax, and she swallowed the thread.

She looked at the three roads ahead of them. She pointed to the one on the left, which was lined on either side with pine trees. ‘There!’

Rose leapt forward again.

They passed through another village, smaller and dustier than the last one. And another, which was almost in the foothills of Mount Tangle—

‘Stop!’ squeaked Flax, right in Rose’s ear.

Just past the village, there was a narrow side road with a few houses scattered along it.

‘Down there,’ whispered Flax. ‘But go carefully. We’re close.’

Rose crept down the road, hoping they wouldn’t run into anyone. They passed the first house, which had a tumbledown shed beside it.

‘Not that one,’ whispered Flax.

They passed the second house, which was painted bright yellow.

‘Not that one, either.’

The third house had a pine hedge in front of it, and a driveway leading into a wooden garage.

‘This is the one,’ whispered Flax. She pointed to the garage. ‘The pup’s in there.’

Rose sidled past the hedge, her heart beating furiously. She half expected Aunt Delilah to step out from behind the house and snap, ‘A queen does not behave like a burglar!’

But there was no sign of Aunt Delilah.

And Rose was behaving like a burglar.

She ducked past a window, holding her breath. She peeped around the back corner of the house. She tiptoed towards the garage.

The side of it that faced away from the house was blackened at the bottom, as if there had been a small fire. The garage door was shut – and locked with a shiny new padlock.

‘What do we do now?’ whispered Rose.

Flax unsheathed her sword, and was talking to it. ‘A key,’ she whispered. ‘Can you be a key?’

To Rose’s astonishment, the sword began to change shape. It bulged on one side, and then on the other, in a slightly different place.

It began to look very much like a key.

‘How did you do that?’ whispered Rose.

Flax didn’t answer. She climbed down Rose’s arm and slid the key into the padlock.

But then she froze. At the back of the house, a door creaked open.

‘That was her on the phone,’ Derk said loudly. ‘She wants us to bring the dog to her. I’ll get the automobile out.’