‘Just say he’s ill or something,’ I whisper.

‘Mr G doesn’t care about that!’

‘Well, he should.’

‘Yanny’s already on a warning. He fell asleep in his lesson last week. Most of the teachers don’t seem to mind, but Mr G does.’

‘He’ll be OK,’ I whisper. ‘There’s only ten minutes left . . .’

I reach deep for new words, thinking of the spell Nan taught me for fortitude. I look down at my own book and mutter the words slowly. They unwind from me, and I can feel the power in them. Yanny stirs next to me, and I keep muttering, until the bell goes, ignoring increasingly quizzical looks from Zara.

‘OK! The next chapter for homework, please,’ says Mr Goodenough. ‘Off you go, slowly. Remember your coats – and I expect better next time!’

He pins me with a stare, and I nod, turning to pack my things, feeling a bit fuzzy-headed.

We scuttle out of the room and head to the cafeteria, but I can’t keep the words going in the rabble of the corridor, and Yanny starts weaving erratically, his eyes flashing.

‘What is your deal?’ Zara demands. ‘Yanny? Stella? What’s going on?’

‘I’ll take him to the, uh, medical room,’ I say.

‘The medical room?’

‘Upstairs.’

She looks between us warily. ‘I’ll help.’

‘No. Leave it with me.’

‘Stella, no. Please don’t do this – don’t exclude me. I know there’s something going on—’

Yanny collides with a glass door and starts to giggle. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tash charging up the steps, a determined look on her face. If she reports that he’s out of control down here . . .

‘Zara, I’ll explain later, but we have to go. I’m sorry.’

‘Go on, then!’ she bursts, steadying Yanny as he stumbles into us. ‘Go! I’ll wait right here.’

She sits on the bottom of the steps as I hustle Yanny up them and through the charms and the double doors. He’s hot as a small sun, and his shadow boils across the wall as we go. When we reach the time-out room, he staggers and pretty much falls into one of the chairs, and the change is instant.

He is no human.

Fae, through and through, pupils wide and flecked with fire, the outline of his would-be wings clear against the fabric of the chair behind him. His breath steams out as he lets go of the glamour, and his eyes drift closed. I fetch water and perch on the chair next to his, and then Tash strides in with Principal Ashworth.

‘Look!’ she exclaims. ‘Look at the state of him. Wild, he was, downstairs.’

‘He’s fine,’ I say. ‘He’s just tired.’

‘Well he’s here now, and I’ve heard no alarm. We’ll entrust Stella with his care, shall we, Tash?’ Principal Ashworth says, casting a dark look at her.

‘It’s not safe, him being like that around people. He could expose us all.’

‘If you are exposed, young lady, it will be your own doing. Now, I have business to see to, and I suggest that you go and find some lunch.’ Principal Ashworth stares at her until she backs down and flounces out of the room.