Cara nodded. She could imagine what it might be: Why did you do it when you’d promised me you wouldn’t? Where did you go, all that time? Didn’t you say you never got lost in the home forest? But Blackthorn didn’t ask any of those.

‘Did you see Grim?’

Cara nodded.

‘Was he . . . No, never mind.’

‘Grim and Gormán found me. At least, the dog found me, Grim’s dog, and then they rescued me. With a rope.’

‘A rope! Where were you? What happened?’

Cara had not thought she would tell all of it to anyone. Her father and Aunt Della had heard the part about falling down a deep hole and being trapped, and about climbing the rope to get out. But she hadn’t told them about the things down there, the voices, what they’d offered and the other things they’d said. Your whole life is a lie. How could she tell Father that? But she wanted to tell Blackthorn. Blackthorn would know what to do. She might even know what those things were.

‘If I tell you what happened will you promise not to say I was dreaming or making things up?’

‘You know me, Cara. You shouldn’t need to ask me that.’

‘Sorry.’ Her voice had shrunk down; the words were retreating down her throat, hiding away.

‘Don’t be sorry. Just tell the story. Take your time.’ Blackthorn fished in her pouch, brought something out. ‘Borrow this. Hold it while you’re talking, it might help. Not a charm exactly, but at the very least good luck. Remember that Grim made it, and Grim loves truth.’

The little hedgehog. Cara wrapped her fingers around it. The oak warmed up in her hand. ‘I spoke to him,’ she whispered. ‘Grim, I mean. Just for a bit. When they got me out. I could talk to him.’

Blackthorn smiled, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t tell Cara to hurry up and get on with it, simply sat quietly waiting.

So Cara told the story. All of it, from being up in the yew and deciding to make a run for it, to this morning, when her father had brought her back to Winterfalls and left her, just like last time. All of it, including falling down the hole and being stuck there with those things tormenting her. Your whole life is a lie. It was a lie from the moment you were born. And something about the heartwood house, why he was building it. Your father’s a liar. You’re a pretender. She told about holding on to the oak roots and knowing the tree would protect her for long enough to get out. And then the rescue.