When Jago Flyn arrives, whistling across the fields, the birds sing louder in response. The sky is bluer, too, and suddenly the world is a more exciting place. At least, that’s how it seems to Jack. Maybe it’s because Jago is such a good mimic, makes him laugh, reads his palm and faces down the bullies. Or is it because all Jack’s wishes start to come true?
One thing is certain. Jago isn’t just a roving artist who’s down on his luck. Something in his electric blue eyes suggests he knows more about magic than he’s letting on. Could he help unravel the secrets of the disc?