‘I tripped,’ I manage, wrenching myself back to the present. ‘Sorry.’

‘You can stop saying you’re sorry,’ he says, his tone strangely gentle. ‘None of this is your fault.’

I stare at him. Does he know why I feel so sorry? Have they already guessed that I’m the child of that long-gone fae queen and her tormented husband? That I am this ridiculous Lost Prince who is supposed to know what the heck they’re doing and somehow find the cursed palace and stop these nightmare shadows?

‘Well, I’m sorry anyway,’ I say, and he nods, holding the faelight higher as the shadows creep in closer. They reach for me, and I can feel myself unravelling in here. I clutch the acorn in my pocket.

‘What happens if the shadows get you?’ I ask.

Yanny flinches but keeps walking. ‘If you let them too close, they mess with your head – take you back to things you’d rather forget. If the Stag is around, they’re stronger. Then their claws can scratch; their teeth can bite. And they’re killing the trees, all the time, more and more.’

‘Killing them?’

‘Lack of light, not good for anything,’ he says, but he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it any more, and the silence between us is awkward after that, so it’s a huge relief when we finally reach the edge of the forest, and I can see my house in the distance. Peg has lit all the lamps, and there’s a flicker of silver where the barrier cuts through the night.

‘They’re waiting for you,’ he says with a smile.

‘Did you never see our house before today?’

‘No,’ he says, staring at it now. ‘I probably never would have, if you hadn’t shown me earlier. Even now, it’s a little bit warped-looking. She’s a powerful woman, your nan.’

‘Will you be OK getting back?’ I ask, looking back into the darkness of the forest with a shiver.

‘Easier without you, probably,’ he says with a grin, turning to head back into the forest.

‘See you tomorrow!’ I call after him, watching him go, until he’s just a thin light in the distance, and Winterspell is thick with writhing, howling shadows. They are men, and bristling wolves, birds, and bats, and tiny insects that cling to the trees. They are wild horses with manes flying, and now a towering stag behind them, his vast antlers proud. He pulls the night sky into his form, and there are stars there too, winking beautiful.

‘Bright thing,’ I hear him whisper, still clear in the distance, and the smiles of all the shadows are moon soft as he steps towards me. My blood rushes cold through my veins as he calls to me, and there’s a tiny corner of my mind shouting at me, but he is louder. He is intoxicating. ‘Come closer . . .’

I tread towards him, fighting through young ash, and he rears up with a great bellow, his antlers clashing with the outstretched branches of the trees. And then there are claws on my legs and my back. I scream, and Teacake lands on my shoulder, her fur standing up on end, her tail wrapping around my neck with a bristle of static.