‘A little,’ I say. ‘Spell-work, charms – nothing very exciting.’

‘And you are?’

I stare at him. ‘Pardon?’

‘What sort of a creature are you? There are humans with some magic. Are you one of those?’

I stare between him and Yanny. There’s something searching and eager about both of them. If I told them the truth about my heritage – that the dreaded Shadow King is my father – what would they do to me? Nan always worried they might never accept me after all the misery he’s caused.

‘Ahh, yes. Human,’ I say. ‘We have lots of books. My nan says there is fae blood in our history . . .’

‘I see,’ says Principal Ashworth. ‘Well, they say that we all have a little fae in us, somewhere. In some, it is more pronounced.’ He fingers the tiny sharp horns that poke through his curling brown hair.

How did I miss those?

‘And we may choose, sometimes, to hide the signs,’ he says. ‘So. Perhaps you are hiding; perhaps all that you possess is an instinct for our words. In any case, you must sign the contract.’

He produces a scroll from a small drawer in the front of the desk. It unspools, inch after inch of brown paper rushing to the floor, and he holds out an old ink pen with a wide brass nib crusted in black ink.

At least, I hope it’s black ink. Right now, in this sun-flashed room, with this strange small man, and Yanny staring beside me, it could be almost anything.

‘What is it?’ I ask.

‘Security contract,’ says Principal Ashworth. ‘Provides that you will neither take nor insert any magic from this place; that you will keep our secrets; that you will take all precautions when entering and exiting; reset the charms; respect the boundaries of your fellow magical students; work hard on your lessons . . .’ He thrusts the pen at me. ‘So, sign!’

‘What if I accidentally let something slip?’

He takes back the pen. ‘Are you prone to accidents?’

‘No.’

‘And you have some familiarity with the fae world. With our words, and our spells. So, you already know how to keep such things safe.’

‘Uh, yes. But. Can I tell my nan?’

‘Is she human?’

‘She’s a ghost,’ I say, my tongue already too tied from the unfamiliar lies.

They stare at me, and I shrug.

‘How interesting!’ Principal Ashworth nods. ‘Then you may tell her. Besides, there are life-and-death provisos, should the need arise. Now sign, or I’ll have to eject you, and there will be no coming back!’

I look at Yanny. ‘You didn’t say . . .’

‘What are you worried about?’ he asks, no help whatsoever. ‘You already knew there was magic out there, and you knew to keep it a secret . . .’

‘But magical contracts?’ I hiss. ‘Everyone knows they’re a bad idea.’

‘You’re confusing your fae stories with your fairy stories,’ says Principal Ashworth. ‘We’re not the Grimm brothers, and you aren’t a little girl in a gingerbread house. Now, if you’d like to continue this little tour, you’ll have to sign!’