‘Can’t tell you if you won’t do it.’

‘How can I do it if I don’t know what it is?’

He spreads his hands. ‘Frustrating, isn’t it.’

‘How would I? When?’

‘Meet me in the science corridor, after school.’

‘What about Zara?’ I ask, as I spy her through the glass doors of the cafeteria. She’s already grabbed a table, and she’s shoved all her stuff into the two seats beside her, a fierce look on her face. ‘She hates not knowing things. She’ll hate it even more if it’s the two of us . . .’

‘I know,’ he says. ‘But we can’t tell her.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s part of the enrolment. One of the rules.’

‘But I haven’t enrolled yet.’

He pulls me aside, behind a wave of kids who bang their way through.

‘This isn’t a joke, Stella. I don’t know who you are, or what you are, but if you’re even part fae, then it’s your job to play by the rules. You don’t tell a human about magic. And you don’t let them see you when they stray into the forest.’

‘So you do live in the forest!’

‘Maybe,’ he says, and his voice shakes.

‘Why are you at school if you’re fae?’ I demand.

‘Why not?’ he says. ‘Why shouldn’t we?’

I don’t have an answer for that; I’m way out of my depth here. He looks utterly furious and not at all friendly right now.

‘Zara’s my friend,’ I say. ‘Can’t we trust her?’

‘Just wait,’ he says under his breath as we enter the room. ‘Wait until you’ve seen what you’re doing. Come with me after school. I’ll show you, and we’ll talk then.’

‘And then I’ll tell her.’

‘Then you can decide.’

But my stomach is full of wiggling nerves, and lunch tastes dry and strange. I don’t know how to look Zara in the eye when there are secrets between us. I tell her I’ve got a headache, and try to lose myself in the food, but Yanny’s pastries are definitely unsatisfying today. They turn to dust in my mouth as soon as I bite into them, and I notice he barely touches them, preferring the red apples and buttered rye bread I brought, and Zara’s tiny round cheese biscuits.

He doesn’t show a sign that he’s bothered about anything, and that only makes me worry more. If he’s truly fae, and my Nan’s books are accurate, he could probably hide just about anything and never let it show on his face.

I have to head out with Zara at the end of the day. She’s been so sweet about my pretend headache all afternoon, I genuinely now feel a bit sick. I walk with her to the gate, and then she spots her mum waiting down the road.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she says. ‘Hope you feel better.’

‘Thank you,’ I manage, and I watch as she bolts down the road. I stand for a long while, watching her get into the car, watching it manoeuvre into the busy road, wondering what I’m doing. I came here for school. For humanity. For a friend like Zara. That’s all I wanted. But I also want to know what’s going on in Winterspell. I want to know what it means to be fae. And since I can’t go in there, this is my chance.