Moreg cocked her head to the side. ‘I don’t, not really – it’s a portal cloak. I had it made in Lael, so now I have access to my store cupboard, cellar and kitchen at home – very useful, I can tell you.’ ‘A portal cloak?’ Moreg dished up the thick, hearty stew, handed Willow a heavy stoneware plate and sat down opposite her on her own fold-up chair, plumping the purple cushion, which she put behind her back. ‘Lousy lumbago,’ she muttered. Then seeing that Willow was still waiting for an answer to her question she said, ‘You know what a portal is?’ Willow thought. ‘It’s like a door to somewhere else?’ ‘Exactly, except it doesn’t need to be a door, it can even be a –‘ ‘A cloak,’ breathed Willow in wonder. Moreg smiled. ‘Quite.’ ‘Wow.’ ‘It has its uses. Not all of us have your skill – anything you need summoned like that.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘That’s truly something.’ Willow shrugged. ‘Only if it’s lost, though. It’s a bit annoying. I can’t summon my own toothbrush unless I’ve lost it first… and leaving things at home doesn’t count as lost.’ She ran her tongue over her teeth and sighed. She had, in fact, forgotten her toothbrush. Moreg tapped her nose conspiratorially, then winked. ‘But you work around that… don’t you?’ Willow’s mouth fell open in surprise. How did she know? Could she really read minds, like some people thought? Willow did ‘lose’ things that might be useful later. You couldn’t be too deliberate or else the magic wouldn’t work, but if, for example, you placed a spare bit of change in a pocket that you ‘forgot’ had a hole in it, well, it could save you running home for your wallet on market day. (Incidentally this had caused Prudence Foghorn to appear momentarily impressed the other day, before she asked after Willow’s more remarkable sister Camille.) Sometimes it helped you to plan ahead when you wanted to ‘accidentally’ lose a rather lumpy old quilt that had been made from several of your granny’s hairy dresses. You’d have to forget on washday, just, for example, while you were hanging it up to dry, that there was a gale-force wind forecast. But who knew when you might need to summon the warmth of an additional quilt? Moreg laughed, but she looked no less scary. ‘It’s what I’d do myself… that’s the secret to being a good witch. Always be a step ahead if you can. ‘Practical makes perfect.’ Willow frowned. ‘I thought it was practice?’ Moreg scoffed. ‘That’s just for people who like to waste time. Who needs to practise something when they can prepared the first time around?’ she said, tapping her cloak. That seemed true enough.