was just ... I’m reading a book about them,” she fibbed. At this he relaxed, his face falling into the smile she’d been expecting in the first place.
“You want to know if there is magic out there in the world. Well ... that depends on who is doing the looking.” And that’s all he would say on the matter.
She was still thinking about his words when she went up to bed. She found a small white card on her pillow and smiled, thinking it was from him. It wasn’t. It was not signed, but Willa knew in the pit of her stomach that the long, spidery handwriting had to be Miss Trang’s. The card read:
It is not necessary for you to come in to work tomorrow morning, but you are cordially invited to join us for dinner tomorrow night. 6 p.m. Do not be late.
How did the card get there? Was Miss Trang angry? Belle must have told. What was going to happen? At best she would probably lose her job. And at worst? She had no way of knowing. Even Horace said he didn’t know what Miss Trang was capable of. And yet she had to go to the dinner. If she didn’t, she knew she would never be able to go back, and the thought of all her questions about the house going unanswered forever was enough to drive her up the wall.
And so the next evening she walked up to the front door of the boarding house at exactly six o’clock, knees shaking, hands trembling, and brain rattling. Baz swung the door open. She didn’t say a word, simply waved Willa into the parlour.
The lights were so low she could barely see. Miss Trang stood in the centre of the room and seated around her were Belle, Horace, Baz, and another gentleman in an armchair in the darkest corner — she could barely make him out at all. Miss Trang stepped forward, her eyes glittering in the gloom.
“Willa, we have invited you here tonight for a reason. You know ... about Belle.” She raised an eyebrow and Willa nodded. “A very serious matter. We held a house meeting to discuss what was to be done about you.” A shiver ran down Willa’s spine. Miss Trang looked her straight in the eye.
“Willa Fuller. Would you like to continue working here?”
Willa nodded quickly.
Miss Trang regarded her for a moment before going on. “This house is exactly what it appears to be. An ordinary retirement home for seniors. The only part that isn’t so ordinary is that we have retired from, shall we say, rather unusual careers in ... a different world from yours. A different time.”
The others were all nodding.
Miss Trang pursed her lips thoughtfully. “You might be someone useful to us, someone from the outside we can trust. Someone of uncommon character. ”
Someone useful? What did they want her to do? Willa wondered wildly. And did she have uncommon character? She didn’t think so. Miss Trang was looking her up and down as if she was thinking the same thing.
“We need to know whether you can handle the rather odd things in this house without losing your nerve.”
Willa didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded.
Miss Trang continued. “Tonight’s dinner will be your test. You will finally meet all the residents of this house and see them as they really are. You will have dinner with us and ask no questions. You will be on your best behaviour and not stare, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” How hard could that be? Just be polite, keep quiet, and eat. Still, butterflies were fluttering in her stomach and she felt short of breath.
“Fine,” said Miss Trang. “Let’s begin. You already know Mirabel.” Belle rolled forward in her chair and pulled the blanket off her shiny, shimmery mermaid tail. Willa glanced at it for only a moment then locked onto Belle’s cool eyes. She curtsied. Belle raised an eyebrow and nodded quickly.
“Baz.” Baz stepped forward, smiling, but looking her old self. No surprises there. “Tengu.” She hadn’t even seen the little man from the willow tree where he stood beside the piano. Now he stepped up, bowing to her, then adopting a fighting posture.
“Perhaps a display of my terrifying skills of combat—” He drew an elbow back sharply, knocking the birdcage behind him. Fadi hissed and gave him the evil eye. Miss Trang just shook her head wearily.
“No, no. Nothing of that sort is required, thank you.” Tengu gave a little karate chop in the air and stepped back, grinning at Willa.
Miss Trang gestured toward Horace. “Professor Horace St. Smithenwick.”
The old gentleman stepped forward and bowed very slowly. At least it looked like he was bowing, but he just kept leaning down and down until his fingers touched the floor, and as soon as they touched, his whole body began to change. Willa stared as his tweed jacket rippled smoothly into golden fur. His fingers curled on the carpet into paws and a long tail suddenly flicked in the air. He had transformed into a lion! Not all of him, though — his head was the same as before, the wavy silver hair, the kind eyes and the wire-rimmed glasses. Trembling, Willa stood her ground as the Horace-lion padded right up to her. She looked straight into his eyes, trying to forget the terrible long claws at the ends of his paws. Horace circled her, his tail tickling her shoulders and making her shiver. She took a deep breath to calm herself as he made his way into the dining room.
“You haven’t yet met Robert.” Miss Trang nodded to the corner where the man in the armchair sat. In the gloom Willa could just make out glittering black eyes, a rather large red nose, and wisps of white hair combed across a very bald head. He wore a cardigan sweater over a rumpled shirt and tie. A very ordinary-looking old man, until the armchair beneath him rose unsteadily to stand on its four long legs. It wasn’t an armchair at all, it was his body, a horse’s body — four legs with hooves. He was a centaur. Willa had seen pictures of them in books, but they were always young. She’d never seen a picture of an old man centaur. His head was slightly bowed as it brushed the ceiling. His hooves thudded on the thick carpet as he moved slowly and carefully past her into the dining room, but he still managed to knock over a couple of chairs as he went.
Willa’s heart was thumping. It was all too terribly exciting, but she was working to remain calm and composed. Or at least to look like she was.
“And last but not least, Mab.”
Willa looked around but no one was left. Everyone had gone into the dining room. Miss Trang pulled a small key from her pocket and went over to the dollhouse. She unlocked the padlock and opened up the front of the house, revealing tiny, perfect furnished rooms inside. In one room a small doll, no bigger than her little finger, sat on the sofa in a beautiful shimmery dress.
“Come on now,” Miss Trang murmured. “It’s all right.”
Willa gasped in surprise as the “doll” stood up.
“Pleased to meet you,” sounded a faint, insect-buzzy voice.
Willa was so gobsmacked she couldn’t speak for a moment. “Pleased to meet you,” she finally stammered.
Mab walked to the edge of her little room and jumped into the air. Sparkly transparent wings carried her flitting out of the room and into the dining room.
A fairy! A real live fairy! Willa felt her heart would burst. When she was very little she had spent countless hours in the backyard searching under toadstools and behind leaves for fairies. The pursuit eventually felt too silly and childish and she had turned to other pastimes,
