Houlihansâ tree, as if she were unsure whether or not it could really be called a house. âEspecially when you have such distinguished guests.â
Her eyes turned to OisÃn. He saw at once why Tom found them creepy. Her irises were the same shade as the stitching on her robes: gleaming silver that pulsed with each flicker of the light.
âYou must be the Milesian,â she said, looking at OisÃn as if Stephen and Sorcha werenât there.
OisÃn nodded uncertainly. He had the same uncomfortable feeling that Tom had mentioned, as if Madame Q was looking right through him.
âPlease, Madame, we were hoping that you could help us get home,â Stephen said, standing.
All in good time,â Madame Q said briskly. âBut first I have to talk to your brother.â
She made another hand motion, as if swatting a fly, and Stephen found himself back on his stool, his cheeks burning. OisÃn looked at Madame Q uncertainly.
âSo youâre the Keeper of the Book of Magic,â she said finally.
Her nose crinkled slightly, as if she might have expected somebody better.
âI guess so,â OisÃn mumbled.
âVery well. Do you think I could see the Book?â
OisÃn could see Tom and his parents share a glance, and he wished that he had told them about the Book. He reached into his hoodie pocket to pull out the Book of Magic. Everybody leant forward eagerly. OisÃn paused.
âWell?â Madame Q said with an impatient twinkle.
âI canât,â OisÃn said, feeling his stomach lurch horribly.
He reached into his pocket again to make sure. His hands grasped at the folds of his hoodie: the Book of Magic was definitely gone.
Chapter 6
The Great Queen
O ISÃNâs heart thumped against his chest. Even though heâd only found the Book a few hours ago, he felt its absence keenly, as if he was missing a limb.
âItâs gone,â he said, struggling to keep his voice level. âThe Book of Magic is gone.â
âIt canât be,â Madame Q said sharply. âI can feel its energy. Itâs in this room.â
OisÃn stood up and looked around wildly. How could the Book be in the room? He hadnât told any of the Houlihans about it. He caught Antimonyâs eye.
âShe has it,â Antimony said slowly.
OisÃn turned around. It wasnât Madame Q that Antimony was looking at, though.
âSorcha?â he said.
Sorcha had her hands behind her back and a guilty expression on her small face.
âSorcha, did you take the Book of Magic?â OisÃn asked.
Red rose to her cheeks. OisÃn felt his own cheeks burn in anger and had to stop himself from jumping over the table and grabbing it.
âItâs not a toy, Sorcha.â
âI know that!â Sorchaâs face was even redder. âBut itâs not fair that you get to have it. I want to do magic too.â
âItâs mine!â OisÃn cried.
It was the second time OisÃn had said those words about the Book of Magic, and again the force in his tone surprised him. The Book of Magic jumped out of Sorchaâs hands and skidded across the table. OisÃn snatched it quickly, feeling a rush of happiness as he held the little book again. Sorcha looked miserable.
âDo you want a chocolate bee-sting?â Tom asked.
Jimmy was breeding magic bees that produced edible stings the way that hens laid eggs. Tom eased the sting from a large bee and collected cubes of different flavours from a jar beside it, as if it was a kebab stick.
âDark chocolate, honey and horseradish,â Tom said, bringing it over to Sorcha.
âI donât want any!â Sorcha shouted, pushing his arm away roughly.
âSorcha!â Stephen said in a voice that their mother might have used.
Sorcha ignored him and scratched her ankle instead. The ravenâs bite had spread and a thin circle of black radiated out like a cobweb.
âIs your ankle
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