We start back along the path, Sylvie’s lantern making strange shifting shadows in the bush. I trudge behind her, weighed down by the knowledge that I have failed the first test. I try to focus instead on the friendly rustlings of the bandicoots. I decide I like being able to attract furry little animals, even if it isn’t very useful.

We pass the fig tree where Dad tied a rope swing last summer – and walk into a wall of freezing air. My wet shirt and shorts turn to ice.

Sylvie sniffs the air and looks around. She mutters a few words in Welsh and, just like in the car, the cold vanishes and we’re back to the heavy, humid evening.

‘What was that?’ I whisper.

‘When she disappeared, your mother opened a door, or portal, and occasionally things pass through. She’s somewhere cold, we know that much. And I got a whiff of woodsmoke.’

‘If things are passing through, does it mean she’s okay?’

She doesn’t reply for a few moments. ‘It means she’s somewhere cold.’

I just want to know if she’s okay. My tears rise up again and I brush them away. ‘How long’s the portal open?’

‘Like I told you at the cafe, it’s open for a month and then it closes forever. If someone doesn’t bring your mum back during that month, she’ll be stuck there.’

My stomach lurches. ‘But how do you know she’ll be stuck?’

She shrugs. ‘It’s information that’s been passed down. My great-great aunt Rosalie went to a parallel universe, and decided to stay for a while. When her sister tried to bring her home five weeks later, it didn’t work. They couldn’t get her back.’ She pauses. ‘She never came home.’

‘Right,’ I say. ‘And are you completely sure you can’t bring Mum back?’ Because I’m pretty certain I just failed my first test.

‘I’m sure. It’s like my magic is stored in a battery that runs out really fast. I can borrow energy from nature – that’s how I changed the river’s current – but it’s as if it slips through my fingers. I can’t hold onto it. I think it will take at least a year for me to get back to where I was.’ She sounds sad. ‘Losing your magic is the worst thing that can happen to a magician. And that’s what your mother and my sisters did to me.’

She holds up the lantern and peers at me. ‘Anyway!’ she says. ‘You’re afraid of the dark, aren’t you? I can tell.’

‘Well …’

‘You’ll need to get over that quick smart. You’ll have to endure the darkest possible dark as part of this. Darkness like you have never known. You’ll be tested.’