13
So, the main building of the Redclover School was burning down before our eyes. Nice. Worst thing of all? They were not normal, orange-looking flames. They were bright purple, which meant a magickal fire, the kind that leaves nothing to chance.
Jenifry watched for a moment, her face very grim. ‘There are measures in place to deal with a fire,’ she said. ‘But of course, they’re all inside the building.’
‘Are there likely to be any people in there?’ I said, trying not to imagine what it might be like to be one of them just then.
Thankfully, Jenifry shook her head. ‘Nothing goes on in here outside of school hours. Jacoby, our caretaker, evicts anyone still lingering by four o’clock, and closes up the building.’
I checked. It was well after half past four.
‘Who do we know who might ha
