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‘Mia?’ He twisted the hand that held hers, pulling her closer to him, thinking that the timing was almost fairy-tale perfect, then hesitated. ‘Is it Milena?’

‘What?’ She shook her head, as though clearing a spell. ‘Oh, my name. No. It’s not Milena.’

‘Emillia?’

‘No.’

‘Melisande?’

‘No.’

‘Maximiliana?’

‘No.’ Mia laughed. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before. Why does this matter so much to you?’

‘Because I…’ He hesitated again. ‘Because it’s something about you I don’t know, and there’s nothing about you I don’t want to know.’

‘That’s really sweet.’

‘It’s true.’ He stroked his thumb over her spine. ‘Will you ever tell me?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Was I even close?’

‘Not really.’ She kissed him. ‘But I’ve told you before that you won’t guess it. How do you feel about getting us some drinks now, and I’ll find our table? These shoes are pretty to look at, but not to wear. My feet could do with a rest!’

Our table. He liked that phrasing – and sharing something with Mia, even if it was just space on a seating plan. ‘Sure.’

She brushed another kiss against his lips and left to find their seats.

Mia sat down and stared around her, still struggling to believe where she was or what she was seeing. And who she was seeing. Ever since she’d found out about magic being more than something confined to the pages of a storybook, she’d been playing her own secret game of ‘guess the gifted’ with everyone she knew or met. She wasn’t the least bit surprised by some of the people she saw – but a few made her do a double take. Was the green man throwing shapes on the dancefloor really Mr Fairhead – the patient who’d survived his heart attack from the sheer good luck of having had it in the hospital while visiting for a broken finger? And was it the librarian who’d shushed her and Katie in the school dancing with him under the Cleopatra wig?

She looked around some more, and felt her eyes widen when she realised the tiny fairy lights woven into the lush garlands hanging from the beams were actually moving… spinning and twirling in their own tiny dance.

The music – supernaturally being played by invisible musicians, of course – swelled and twisted from a song she knew into something ancient, but oddly familiar. The notes seemed to weave their way through the room, and the tiny dancing lights changed their patterns to follow them. A drum beat throbbed low and deep through the floorboards, like a heartbeat beneath her feet, making the floor ripple with light, and she started to understand what Ophelia and Rayenne had meant when they told her magic was woven into the very fabric of Hudsbury.

She watched as a little boy she’d known for years – his mother had been one of her first maternity patients – waved to some of the floating lights, which trickled down towards him. He caught them in outstretched hands and leaned closer to them. They exploded around him, spinning, and he laughed in delight.

How could she have known a little boy his entire life, hear all about his first steps, and never know he could do that? It was bizarre.

Her throat tightened – a thick, confusing mix of wonder and something darker. She wasn’t angry, or sad… not really, but she did feel like she’d missed something wonderful for a huge chunk of her life, and it left her feeling disorientated and like the world was shifting on its axis beneath her feet. So much in so few weeks that she felt like her head was spinning a bit. OK, a lot. She stared at the swirling lights, and the tapestry on the wall where deer trot-danced beneath a slowly phasing moon, and tried to remember how to find her equilibrium again.

After she didn’t know how long, warmth butted her foot, making her jump. She lifted the tablecloth to find yellow eyes staring up at her. ‘Hello, Mist.’ She carefully lifted the cat onto her lap. ‘I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised you’re here. You’re hardly a “normal” cat, are you?’

Mist purred and sniffed at the flower on Mia’s wrist.

‘Pretty, isn’t it? From Aiden.’

Mist tapped at one of the bats fluttering on Mia’s dress.

‘Speaking of Aiden, I don’t suppose you know where he is, do you?’

Mist butted against her, demanding affection. ‘OK. We’ll give him a few more minutes.’

She amused herself, and Mist, playing with a bracelet and giving fuss. But after a couple of minutes, Mia decided she’d waited for long enough. She wasn’t sure how long the potion-like drinks she saw other guests with would take to make, but she was starting to wonder where Aiden had got to and went to find him, politely excusing herself to Mist and putting her gently on her chair.

It didn’t take long: he was standing in a little alcove by the bar, talking animatedly on his phone. He waved when he saw her, holding up a finger – asking her to wait. Gone were the easy relaxed lines and his warm smile from earlier – replaced with tension and worry that seemed to radiate from him.