‘Hello darlings,’ says Sylvie. ‘Come around this side of the shed. The police are almost here.’ She points to a couple of wobbling torch lights just visible through the snow.

We huddle against the shed wall. With Sylvie to help us, we’re sure to get back to London in time. ‘How did you get here? Did your magic rebuild really quickly?’ I ask.

‘I don’t think so,’ says Mum.

Sylvie says a few words and something in her hand suddenly glows. That’s the spell I needed in the forest near Canmore last night. Was it really only last night?!

I see a wisp of long white hair escaping from Sylvie’s furry hat, and gasp. ‘You’re the Sylvie from this universe!’

‘Yes, dear granddaughter.’

‘But you weren’t stripped of your magic, were you, like our Sylvie?’

Mum squeezes my hand and, even through my gloves, I can tell what she’s saying. Careful.

‘Who stripped her of her magic?’ demands Other Sylvie.

‘Me,’ says Mum. ‘And your sisters.’

She gives a crooked, confused smile. ‘You wouldn’t do that!’

‘We did.’ Mum’s voice is stony. Her dislike for Sylvie is almost visible in the air between them.

‘I see,’ says Sylvie. ‘Well, I have all my powers. So. Shall we return to the rather urgent matter at hand?’ She smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. ‘How are you two planning to get back to London?’

Mum is silent. Does she have any kind of plan? Or doesn’t she want to tell Sylvie? And how does Sylvie know we need to get to London?

‘We could fly,’ I say.

‘You couldn’t possibly fly all that way in weather like this,’ says Other Sylvie dismissively. ‘It would be foolish and dangerous.’

Someone calls from the house. ‘Merry? Are you there? Come back inside.’

‘We need to get out of here, now!’ says Mum.

‘There’s an empty cottage that way,’ says Other Sylvie. ‘By the forest. Let’s go there and figure out how to get you to London.’ She swirls her hand over the three of us and mutters, ‘Swyn, rho glogyn o dywyllwch amdanom.’ Cloak of darkness.

Other Sylvie grabs my hand. I’m filled with a familiar queasiness and my legs go weak. Now I know who was sapping my energy as I lay under Mum’s bed. I pull my hand from hers. I have a bad feeling about this version of Sylvie, but I have no choice but to follow her out into the snowstorm.

CHAPTER 26

After half an hour battling the driving snow, only partly protected by some umbrella-like shield that Other Sylvie conjured, we reach a small stone cottage.

Sylvie opens the solid wooden door, and a feeling of dread comes over me. I don’t want to step inside.

‘We need to charge up first,’ Mum says to Sylvie, and she leads me to a tree beside the house.