‘How do I do that?’

‘I’d tell you, if I knew,’ she says.

‘I’m going to try, Nan,’ I say. ‘Even if you think I’m not ready. There must be something I can do. They’re all working so hard to survive, and I’m one of them . . .’

‘You’ll choose your path,’ she says. ‘I know. I wish it weren’t so soon.’

I have so much more to ask her, but her words are faint. She mutters something about patience, but I am not going to just ignore it all now and leave others in danger while I hide in this big old house. My friends need help now, not in some fictional legendy future. I stare at Nan, my heart sinking as she slowly fades from view. What can you do when you’re living with a ghost? It’s impossible to argue with someone who isn’t even visible. I don’t want to wear her out so much that she disappears for good.

I humph and close my arms around Teacake’s warmth, but she struggles against me and drops to the floor, heading upstairs with her tail arrow-straight.

Curious that she’d leave the comfort of my lap, and the warm fire, I look from her to Peg. He’s apparently sound asleep, his scales gleaming red-gold as he lies flat out on the mantelpiece.

‘Where are you going, kitty?’ I whisper, getting up and following her as she heads up the stairs. She glances over her shoulder at me with a small chirrup and walks purposefully down the corridor to the old study.

I follow her inside. It’s cold in here, and dark. The heavy curtains are drawn, and there are cobwebs on the ceiling and draping from an old brass chandelier.

‘What are we doing in here?’ I shiver, taking matches from the desk and stretching up to light the candles in the chandelier. They snap and fizz as the dust burns away, and the flames cast a restless golden light over the room. ‘Teacake?’

She gathers herself and launches up on to the bookshelves in the furthest, darkest corner, sending a load of dust swirling into the air. When it settles, she’s sitting on the third shelf up.

‘OK,’ I say. ‘That’s the shelf, then. What am I going to find? Some tome on the best treats for small cats? A beginner’s guide to fishing?’

She swats her tail and narrows her eyes at me, then jumps down and settles on the worn leather chair behind the desk. I look at the shelf: Ladies of the Fae; The Lay of the Land: Protection of Fae Forests; Lessons on Blackthorn; Love and Lavender: A Text on the Properties of Herbs in Magic; The Lost Folk.

I pull out The Lost Folk. It’s newer than some of the books here, its cover plain brown with the lettering picked out in copper. The spine creaks as I open it, and some of the pages are uncut. I scoop Teacake up and sit in the warm place she’s made, settling her into my lap.