The parcel had someone else’s name on it. Then it sneezed.

At midnight, a green light moved behind the glasshouse panes. When Nessa stepped inside, the door locked behind her.

For seven nights, something scratched beneath the kitchen floor. Then Lina lifted the loose board—and found two golden eyes staring back.

The sugar bowl was smoking. The teapot had started talking. And Mara’s sister knew exactly why.

The grown-ups blamed the crows. The children blamed a dragon. Nell knew better.