I nod.

‘Good,’ she says. ‘You’re a sprite – I can see it in you, though it is faint!’

‘It’s a glamour,’ I say. ‘My . . . my nan did it, and it’s quite strong.’

‘Isn’t it,’ she agrees, studying me.

She looks like she wants to say more, but then Yanny comes back in, an older version of himself following in his wake. The similarity is uncanny, and it sends a pang through me; his father is so thin and worn, his wings, like Elowen’s, faded and tucked away.

‘My pa, Fen. This is Stella.’

Fen smiles. ‘Welcome, Stella. That’s some name you have there.’

‘Is it?’ asks Ro.

‘Stella means star. We could do with some more of those around here . . .’

‘I’m not sure I’m that useful, really,’ I say, and Elowen laughs, and the glow returns to the room as Fen takes his seat and praises his kids for the fish they caught while he slept.

Willow scooches up close to him, and he eats with one arm around her, but the weariness doesn’t quite leave his eyes, and Yanny never visibly relaxes. He doesn’t join in the laughter, and he takes the smallest piece of fish, so Elowen frowns and makes him have an extra potato and tells him to stop being such a martyr about everything.

There isn’t much, for a family of seven. But what there is tastes like magic to me, fresh and wild and dark as the berries on the vines outside our house. After a while, even Yanny relaxes, and it’s kind of wonderful. I’m in a fairy house, deep in Winterspell, having the first big family meal I’ve ever had. The thought makes me smile, until I notice the shadows at the windows. More, and more of them, leering in, their blank eyes wide, claws scratching at the glass. Elowen notices as I do, and she lowers the lights and draws blinds at the window with a flick of her fingers.

‘Stella?’

‘The shadows . . .’

Fen’s face tightens, and the children are sent to play in their bedroom.

‘We don’t talk about them,’ Yanny says.

‘I’m sorry.’

Fen frowns. ‘They don’t normally cluster like that around the house.’ He looks at me, and then to Yanny. ‘It’s difficult to keep up the barriers, and it was a hard night of fighting last night. I’m sorry.’

‘You should let me help,’ Yanny says. ‘I could do a shift for you sometimes.’

‘You are worn thin enough, glamouring all day,’ Elowen says, and her tone is sharp. ‘They will do us no harm; the house is sound. If they are outside the windows, well, they may wail all they like – they still will not get inside.’

‘I don’t have to go to school.’

‘Yes, you do,’ Fen says. ‘You all do. Whether it is easy or not, you will all do it, and you will get out of here.’

‘I don’t want to get out of here,’ Yanny says quietly. ‘This is my home.’