I spotted the familiar sight of two large Percherons and a gaily-colored wagon just as Nona stepped down from the back and waved. A sense of real relief flooded over me, as if I'd just seen Mum and Da waiting for me, not the rounded shape of Vasek's grandmother and her tall, slender friend, the sorcerer Cyrus. Her wagon was clearly repaired, looking as good as new. I felt the soft touch of Brindle magic and sent a silent thank you to Georgina and her coven for putting the mess right.
There was a calm and competence to the lovely old couple, a surety that here at least were those to be trusted, and I found myself smiling for the first time since we'd boarded the ferry to leave London.
Nona hugged me with great enthusiasm before pinching my cheek with her gnarled old hand. "Well done, witch girl," she said.
I pinched her right back, making her giggle. "Well done yourself, old woman."