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might have hidden it?” he enquired.
    “None whatsoever,” his master said unhelpfully, “and from the way the witches are setting about it, it would seem that they haven’t a clue either,” he muttered, turning once more to the crystal ball. “The only sensible thing they did was search Merial’s house from top to bottom. Maritza, though,” Lord Jezail continued, “might be on to something. I told you, didn’t I? She’s taken a job at Netherfield, the school Merial used to work in. It’s an old building so there must be plenty of hiding places.”
    “That’s a possibility,” Vassili nodded, looking suddenly interested . “How big is the school?”
    “See for yourself … There it is.” Jezail tilted the eye of the crystal to reveal a sprawling, turreted building that stood in its own grounds amid trees and playing fields.
    “Maritza might well be on to something there,” Vassili admitted, looking suddenly hopeful. “Could you arrange for them to need a … a German teacher, perhaps?”
    Lord Jezail looked at him sourly. “If that’s what you want …”
    Count Vassili nodded. “It would be ideal, for as a member of staff I’d have access to all parts of the school. And let’s just say that I have a feeling that Maritza
might
know something that the others don’t,” he added shrewdly. “Your daughter
was,
after all, her cousin.”

7. Surprising News
    “The MacLeans are on their way,” Jaikie said, looking up from a crystal ball that showed the green slopes of Arthur’s Seat and the Ranger’s cottage that lay just inside the great gates of Holyrood Park. “They’ve just left their cottage, and Neil and Clara are with them.”
    The MacArthur nodded and Arthur, the great red dragon that curled beside his chair, blew a cloud of smoke down his nostrils that set everybody coughing. Like the MacArthurs, he was very fond of the Park Ranger and his family and had been devastated to hear that they were leaving their cottage to live in the Borders. Over the years they’d had some very exciting adventures together and they’d all got used to having the children drop in on their magic carpets just for a chat.
    “Give over, Arthur,” Archie muttered, flapping his hands. “It isn’t
all
that long since you’ve seen Neil and Clara.”
    “It is,” Arthur disagreed. “It’s weeks since they left.”
    “Well, here they are now,” Hamish announced a few minutes later, rising to his feet as four magic carpets soared from a side tunnel into the vast, richly-decorated cavern that lay inside Arthur’s Seat. The carpets swooped in, one after the other, to hover beside a raised dais where the MacArthur sat, a small but regal figure, on a huge, elaborately carved chair piled high with cushions.
    Neil and Clara slipped off their carpets with the ease of long practice and after a hasty greeting to the MacArthur, ran over to the dragon.
    The carpets dipped gently and flew to the side of the cavern where they rolled themselves up against the wall; ready and waiting until called again.
    “It’s grand to see you looking so well,” the MacArthur smiled. “Country life seems to be agreeing with you. How are you getting on in your new house?”
    John MacLean looked at him shrewdly. “Not too well,” he admitted, “but I think you probably know that already,” he added with a smiling glance at the crystal. “That’s why we’ve come. We need your advice.”
    “You mean about the witches?” the MacArthur said.
    “Yes, about the witches,” the Ranger agreed, settling himself comfortably in his chair. “One of them gave Clara a real scare.”
    Janet looked at the MacArthur expectantly, waiting for his reply, for he was just the person to solve what she referred to as “the witch problem”.
    Neil and Clara, still chatting to Arthur, dragged cushions forward to sit alongside Archie, Hamish and Jaikie who were lounging casually against the dragon’s massive side. Clara looked over at her father and