She whisks at me with her tail, and I’m reminded of my new horns. My hair, I notice, is also different. I pull a strand outward to inspect it. It curls, flecked with streaks of copper.

The question is . . . Teacake purrs. What will you do now that you are found?

I stare at her for a long moment, and then I remember the voice I heard the first time I fought the shadow, in the garden. Was it hers?

‘I wanted to get rid of the shadows,’ I say, still marvelling at her.

That is a good idea, she continues. I am tired of them. So is your father – though he doesn’t know it yet.

‘He didn’t know me.’

He has been a long time in shadows.

‘He made the shadows!’

Do you think he made them of his own volition? Did he choose this life? No. It came upon him, and he was lost. It happens. What you will do with your life, Stella. That is the interesting bit.

‘Is it?’

Somewhat – she licks a paw – I cannot quite read it. Some things are not clear until they are upon us. Ooh! A lovely little mouse, hiding in the snow . . .

She bounds off into the trees, and I watch her go before turning back to the clearing, where fae face shadows. Neither side appears to be winning. Now I understand those flashes of light and colour that I used to see from our house. Now I am close to the roars, and the screams of the centaurs as they charge, and the sparks that fly off their weapons, bursting into the air as the fairies use their magic.

There are goblins fighting tooth and nail with spiny shadow creatures, and sprites who lean out from every tree, using their magic and their swords to fend off the shadow birds, which try to land on the outstretched frost-glinting branches. And there is Yanny, back to back with Zara, fighting a group of shadow foxes. Yanny is quick with his fire whip, it sparks as it snaps the ground, and Zara is wielding what looks like a long glass rod, glowing blue from within.

Is that what she went to see Mrs Mandrake about? To get herself a weapon? While I’ve been faffing about, she’s already begun the fight. There is no time to lose; I have wasted enough already. I run over to them.

‘Stella!’ Zara grins. ‘Are you ready?’ Her breath is short. ‘You look . . . ready.’

Her gaze settles on my newly revealed horns, and then travels down over my bright hair.

‘And you’ve brought company,’ says Yanny, with a flourish of his whip that parts the shadows at my back. ‘I’m not sure we needed more of them!’

‘He wouldn’t send them away,’ I say. ‘So I told him I’d do it instead.’

‘Best get started then,’ he grunts, as one of the foxes gets too close and rakes its claws at his shoulder.