Lizzie handed him a heavy velvet cloak. He wrapped it around his shoulders, and realised that it was the type that had sleeves. He put his hands through and did up the clasp that was level with his middle and peered into the mirror. He looked like one of the Wizard Council, except that the symbol on his chest was of a half moon, not the book and potion bottle.
‘This was your husband’s, wasn’t it?’ he asked her. He couldn’t help running his hands down the smooth, soft fabric.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I made it for him one winter so he could go and gather his herbs without freezing. I’m sure he would have liked you to wear it to do the same. It’s yours now.’
‘Thank you, Lizzie.’ He pulled up the hood and opened the door, the wind catching in his face again. Picking up his lamp, and clutching the
