I hope she’s up to this, I hear her think.

Am I really hearing people’s thoughts? Or am I just imagining what they might be thinking?

We take off again, and soon we’re wheeling and soaring through the freezing air. The trees below are dark blurs on the vast expanse of white. We skim the top of a forest, exactly like the birds must, and my heart swells with joy until I think I might crack a rib. This is what I am meant to do! This is what I have been waiting for all these years. I am a magician, doing magic in the world. Not just the world – a parallel universe!

‘It feels amazing, I know,’ calls Efa. ‘But don’t forget it’s the most dangerous thing we can do.’

I can’t equate the idea of danger with this miraculous, marvellous thing. How I wish Kit were here. I try to remember every sensation, every detail, so I can tell him later. I want to explain how light I feel, that I have no fear of falling because the air is holding me, as if gravity doesn’t exist. I wonder if he feels like this when he does trapeze.

‘Hello, trees,’ I whisper under my breath. ‘I’m here. I’m listening.’

A kind of humming rises from the dark forest below, and it feels like all the trees are joined in a great web of conversation that’s weaving around and over me, but doesn’t ignore me. My body gently vibrates, as if this sound is something I’ve always known.

A large animal runs across the field to our right, leaving a trail in the snow. ‘Deer,’ says Efa. She points to the right. ‘And look! There’s Bryn, collecting your friend.’ I wipe my eyes and, in the distance, see orange flashing lights.

Everything is working out. Soon Pete will be on his way to a doctor, and I’ll be reunited with Mum.

‘Farmhouses ahead,’ Efa calls. She says a few words and we rise. The air is even wetter and colder, and my eyes and forehead are numb despite all the woollen wrappings. I think there may be icicles on my eyelashes.

Efa flies with her arms close to her sides, her chin tucked in. Her black coat flaps around her feet and I can see why people might be frightened by the sight. She looks like a monstrous black bird. Or a witch.

‘Uh oh!’ says Efa. ‘My energy’s falling!’