It’s a cat!

What kind of a cat bounces out of the forest like that?

‘Hi,’ I say, reaching out and untangling it from my coat, holding it at arm’s length. It’s a tiny little tabby, its fur striped in shades of white and silver-grey flecks glinting in the darkening light. ‘Who are you?’

It doesn’t answer; it just stares at me. I put it down on the cold grass, and it walks around my ankles, before sitting on my left boot.

‘Oh!’

Then another wild creature bursts out from the direction of the house and whizzes to my shoulder. Peg, being a bird.

‘Look, Peg,’ I say. ‘It’s a cat!’

‘Is it though?’ he demands, his golden beak snapping by my ear as he peers down.

I pick up the cat. It nestles into my arms and starts to purr.

‘Seems like it to me,’ I say. ‘Maybe it strayed into the forest by mistake, and that’s why it bolted out so quickly.’

‘Hmmm.’

‘Nan will know,’ I say.

And so we head to the house: me and a small, trembling tabby cat, and one rather cross bird-imp.

It’ll be a good distraction from school news, anyway.

‘I’m dreadfully allergic to cats,’ says Nan, perching on the edge of her blue chair, her lower legs and feet only vaguely visible.

‘Nan.’ I stare at her.

The cat is sleeping in my lap, and Peg sits on the mantelpiece, his tail swinging over the flames.

‘What? I am!’

‘I really don’t think ghosts can be allergic to animals.’

She frowns.

‘Well, I might be. I’m not your ordinary sort of ghost, you know.’ She narrows her eyes. ‘Did you bring her back to distract us from news of school?’

‘No!’

‘So,’ she says. ‘Tell me about your day. Don’t leave anything out.’

‘It was pretty normal . . .’

‘No such thing. Come on – out with it.’

‘The lunch was good. And I like maths. Zara is really nice. She’s new too. Her mum moved them here a little while ago . . .’

And there’s a whole floor full of magic, where the fae learn their history. And I lied. I lied, and I said I was human, and Yanny’s eyes knew that I was lying, but what could I say: ‘I am the child of the fae king who cursed your home’?

‘Zara?’ Nan leans forward. ‘Who is Zara?’

‘A girl at school!’

‘Human?’

‘Yes, Nan. Of course.’ I hold my breath, hoping she doesn’t ask any more about that. I’ve never lied outright to her face; I’m not sure I could. And I know she isn’t going to be happy about me being in a school with the fae she’s spent so long trying to keep me away from.

‘Bright, “Zara” means,’ she says. ‘Bright and shining, I think.’

‘It suits her.’ I smile, looking down at the cat. It’s very small; perhaps even just a kitten still. I always wanted a pet.

‘This little cat must go,’ says Peg, shaking his head, twin plumes of steam escaping his nostrils.