‘And now I am.’

‘So show me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Undo the glamour I put upon you. If you are ready, you’ll be able to.’

Her eyes shine in the firelight. Peg watches, and so does Teacake, whom I’ve placed on the floor beside me. But no matter how deep I dig, what words I mutter, how much I want this right now, there is no shift in me. I remember how I glamoured Yanny, and I try to find the edges of what she’s done to hide me, but nothing shifts.

Nothing changes at all.

‘Nan!’ I burst out eventually, stars in my eyes, infuriated with her and all the world.

‘There is great power in you, Stella,’ she says. ‘You can do this, in time. Your parents and mine were part of the longest period of peace Winterspell has ever known. It was a golden time; we did not know how lucky we were. There was food, and there was laughter. There was the palace, where the fae danced and where nothing was impossible. Many fae forests have disappeared; many destroyed. Many fight for their existence daily . . .’ She shakes her head sadly.

‘But our forest is one of the greats; one of the oldest. It was protected by man, and so it thrived. It is still protected, from man’s interventions. But what you fight is far wilder. Your father’s heart is twisted, and his eyes see only darkness. His shadows have spread through the trees, and you have seen for yourself, they are still destroying the forest now. They take the light, and the energy. They are a curse, and that is why your friend’s wings are the way they are. Because of the curse the Shadow King laid upon Winterspell when he retreated into the palace and let his shadow stag run free. You cannot fight that, until you are all that you can be.’

I sit on the bench by the fire. Peg makes more tea in tinkling cups, and Teacake bounces back into my lap again, curling up with a wide, toothy yawn. Nan watches me.

‘Rory said I was full of darkness, that I drew the shadows . . .’

Nan is silent for a moment. ‘You are not full of darkness. You are the opposite, and that is what attracts the shadows. Whatever we may feel, Stella, there can be no darkness without light, and no light without shade.’

‘Why can’t he see that? Why does he let this happen, Nan?’

‘He is lost,’ she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. ‘The fae king who was your father is gone, Stella. I am so sorry. I wish it weren’t so. I wish I could tell you that you can help him, but you must not go in there hoping for such. When you go in there, it must be with one thought only: to wrest the power from him, to undo the curse, and send the shadows away.’