Mary-Kate placed the black tam-o’-shanter on her head and tried to smile. It was a good hat and it perfectly matched her black skirt with its shiny brass buttons. She couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed though that the pompom wasn’t red and sequinned. That would have matched her sparkly red shoes and her sparkly red backpack. She would have been so matching that nothing at all terrible could possibly happen.
Not that anything terrible was going to happen.
It couldn’t.
It wasn’t going to be like the last two trips she’d taken with her mother, Professor Martin. She’d met a fire-breathing wyrm and a two-headed sea monster on those occasions. This trip was with her granny, who liked reading romance novels and watching the shopping channel while eating spicy takeaway. Granny wen