Sitting quietly in a pleasantly cool room, with a lemur wrapped around her neck and the river whispering under the window, felt good. Donna dosed off, occasionally looking at the construction work outside. The inhabitants were so happy, she thought. What joy to have been involved in returning their river, though their thanks embarrassed her. She was looking forward to seeing Jessamine and her Grandmother Elspeth soon; they were on their way to visit the Queen.

“My powers are returning,” said Aunt Yolanda, sipping her coffee. “The Vizier’s death broke all the illusions that took over my ability to perform. I can’t tell you, Your Majesty, how strange it felt to be locked in that shack, unable to exercise Wicca powers to release myself. So when Gilbert unlocked the shack’s door with his...

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