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The face, riddled with wrinkles, was still able to smirk. The darting eyes shone with sincere wicked joy… and intelligence. His head was covered in bald, parchment skin, a skull. He was crowned, as befittingly so, by a huge hooked nose.

– So you’ve agreed to see us,» Laira said to the Witch. – Your maidservant apprentice, your great-great-granddaughter, said you weren’t interested in money. Well, I’m smart enough to know that Witches don’t do anything for free. And neither do most people. So what do you want from us? Our souls? Ridiculous. Tell me

a price and tell us if we can pay it. Just don’t stall, okay?

The shriveled woman held out her pinched hand to Lyra. A skeleton covered in leather. A long finger, adorned with a silver ring, pointed directly at Lilac’s nose.

– You’ve got it,» the mummy said. The voice sounded like the breath of a blacksmith’s bellows.

– Hmm? I don’t understand.» Clary jammed her hands at her sides. – You can explain. Don’t play riddles with us; that’s not why we’re here.