A Hat Full Of Sky

works with Mrs. Earwig,” said Petulia. “But she—”
    “I intend to leave next year,” said Annagramma. “Apparently, I’m doing extremely well. So you’re the girl who’s joined Miss Level, are you? She’s weird, you know. The last three girls all left very quickly. They said it was just too strange trying to keep track of which one of her was which.”
    “Which witch was which,” said one of the girls cheerfully.
    “Anyone can do that pun, Lucy Warbeck,” said Annagramma, without looking around. “It’s not funny, and it’s not clever.”
    She turned her attention back to Tiffany, who felt that she was being examined as critically and thoroughly as Granny Aching would check a ewe she might be thinking of buying. She wondered if Annagramma would actually try to open her mouth and make sure she had all her teeth.
    “They say you can’t breed good witches on chalk,” said Annagramma.
    All the other girls looked from Annagramma to Tiffany, who thought: Hah, so witches don’t have leaders, do they? But she was in no mood to make enemies.
    “Perhaps they do,” she said quietly. This did not seem to be what Annagramma wanted to hear.
    “You haven’t even dressed the part,” said Annagramma.
    “Sorry,” said Tiffany.
    “Um, Annagramma says that if you want people to treat you like a witch, you should look like one,” Petulia said.
    “Hmm,” said Annagramma, staring at Tiffany as if she’d failed a simple test. Then she nodded her head. “Well, we all had to start somewhere.” She stood back. “Ladies, this is Tiffany. Tiffany, you know Petulia. She crashes into trees. Dimity Hubbub is the one with the smoke coming out of her hat, so that she looks like a chimney. That’s Gertruder Tiring, that’s the hilariously funny Lucy Warbeck, that’s Harrieta Bilk, who can’t seem to do anything about the squint, and then that’s Lulu Darling, who can’t seem to do anything about the name. You can sit in for this evening…Tiffany, wasn’t it? I’m sorry you’ve been taken on by Miss Level. She’s rather sad. Complete amateur. Hasn’t really got a clue. Just bustles about and hopes. Oh, well, it’s too late now. Gertruder, Summon the World’s Four Corners and Open the Circle, please.”
    “Er…” said Gertruder nervously. It was amazing how many people around Annagramma became nervous.
    “Do I have to do everything around here?” said Annagramma. “ Try to remember, please! We must have been through this literally a million times!”
    “I’ve never heard of the World’s Four Corners,” said Tiffany.
    “Really? There’s a surprise,” said Annagramma. “Well, they’re the directions of power, Tiffany, and I would advise you to do something about that name, too, please.”
    “But the world’s round, like a plate,” said Tiffany.
    “Um, you have to imagine them,” Petulia whispered.
    Tiffany wrinkled her forehead.
    “Why?” she said.
    Annagramma rolled her eyes. “Because that’s the way to do things properly .”
    “Oh.”
    “You have done some kind of magic, haven’t you?” Annagramma demanded.
    Tiffany was a bit confused. She wasn’t used to people like Annagramma.
    “Yes,” she said. All the other girls were staring at her, and Tiffany couldn’t help thinking about sheep. When a dog attacks a sheep, the other sheep run away to a safe distance and then turn and watch. They don’t gang up on the dog. They’re just happy it’s not them.
    “What are you best at, then?” snapped Annagramma.
    Tiffany, her mind still full of sheep, spoke without thinking. “Soft Nellies,” she said. “It’s a sheep cheese. It’s quite hard to make….”
    She looked around at the circle of blank faces and felt embarrassment rise inside her like hot jelly.
    “Um, Annagramma meant what magic can you do best,” said Petulia kindly.
    “Although Soft Nellies is good,” said Annagramma with a cruel little smile. One or two of the girls gave that little snort that meant they were trying not to laugh out loud but didn’t mind showing that they were trying.
    Tiffany looked down at her boots again.
    “I don’t know,” she mumbled, “but I did throw the Queen of the Fairies out of my country.”
    “Really?” said Annagramma. “The Queen of the Fairies, eh? How did you do that?”
    “I’m…not sure. I just got angry with her.” And it was hard to remember exactly what had happened that night. Tiffany recalled the anger, the terrible anger, and the