Flax peered between the trees. Her hand was on her sword. Her heart was thumping.

The pup was there beside her, as hot as a furnace. But she had no magic left, so she couldn’t use his power.

Rose was there too, her face pink with anger. ‘What can we do?’ she muttered. ‘We have to do something.’

But Flax had no ideas left, either.

The Lady stood up and brushed herself down.

All around her, sketters, mor-kits, minch-wiggins and horned globs were frozen to the spot, their eyes full of rage and fear.

The Lady sneered at them. ‘You thought you could beat me? I am the Lady, and you are nothing. I will deal with you when I have finished here.’

She raised her hand to the oldest tree in Minchfold—

And Flax thought she heard something in the distance.

Something that sounded like the wind.

Or the rustling of leaves.

Or the sweep of giant wings through the sky …

Flax raced out of the trees with her heart in her mouth and her sword raised. A moment later, the pup dashed after her. So did Rose.

They threw themselves at the witch.

‘Death to the Lady!’ screamed the sword. ‘Probably death to us, too, but definitely death to her!’

And suddenly the pup’s parents were howling.

So were the sketters, the mor-kits, the minch-wiggins and the horned globs, all together, so that hardly anything else could be heard.

The Lady swiped Flax and the sword aside with one blow of her hand. She threw off Rose. She tried to grab hold of the pup, crying, ‘I will use your power!’

The pup bit her.

Now the witch howled, too. ‘I will kill you all,’ she shrieked.

She raised her hands, just as a dragon with red-gold scales and spikes all the way down his back plunged out of the sky.

At the very last minute, the Lady saw him coming. She opened her mouth to say a Word—