“The wind whispered through the leaves, bringing with it the bite of late autumn. Biddy laid her hand on the branch beneath her. It seemed to her she could feel the thrum of the world's magic easier here, where the breeze from the sea made the air a living thing. It was her imagination, probably, but never mind. That was a kind of magic too. So was what waited for her on the mainland, messy and wild and glorious, waiting for her to fall into it.” ImaginationSixth SenseMagic In Your Heart Book:The Magician’s Daughter Source: The Magician’s Daughter