Cat looked up and found Shane standing in the doorway of his house staring at her with undisguised anger. She realised how it must look to him – her looming over his sister like that. She dropped the girl’s arm like it was made of hot iron.

‘I–I wasn’t. I mean, I was just–’

He ran out of his house and took the unprotesting Jenny by the hand. ‘Haven’t I told you often enough to just leave me alone?’ he said. ‘That goes for my family too.’

He got to his front door before Cat found her voice. ‘That’s not Jenny!’ she said.

He turned and glared at Cat.

‘What did you say?’ he said in a voice that was cold and hard and not at all like that of the boy she once knew.

‘I said that’s not Jenny. It’s hard to explain and I know it sounds strange, but just listen. Your sister has been taken by the fairies. I know because they’ve got Mikey too … but I’m going to get them back. I swear!’

Cat could see the battle play out on Shane’s face. She knew he thought her words were ridiculous, just a load of ‘silly made-up stories’ like the ones she told in the playground. But there was something else there too. Something darker. He looked down at the pale, silent figure by his side, so like his sister and yet not like her at all. Cat recognised the look – he was worried.

‘You can trust me,’ she said.

Shane seemed to snap back to reality. ‘Do you ever actually listen to yourself speak? You’re crazy. Just like your Granny.’

With that, he slammed the door and left Cat standing alone in her garden, a low, rolling mist beginning to creep around her ankles. The words were a slap to the face – ‘You’re crazy’ – but night was drawing in and she had no time to waste. She would just have to save both Mikey and Jenny all by herself. Then Shane would eat his words. Cat found the key lying on the doorstep where she’d dropped it and let herself in.

Truth be told, Cat had no idea what she was doing. Though Granny had taught her a lot about the Sight and the Otherworld, she never got around to telling her how to go about catching an actual fairy. Maybe she thought it was too dangerous, or maybe she just didn’t know how. Still, Cat had plenty of time to mull over the problem while she had been stuck in the hospital waiting room and she thought she had a pretty good idea of where to start. If her stealthy watching of scary movies had taught her anything it was that, to summon a supernatural creature, she would need three things – something to lure it, something to trap it, and something to protect herself in case it all went wrong.

The protection part was easy – she already had the charm Granny had made for her. That left the lure and the trap. She knew from Granny’s stories that fairies appreciated bowls of milk, but from what she had read of the Clurichaun it would probably take something a little stronger to trick him. She went to the kitchen and began rummaging through the cupboards, eventually locating a half-empty bottle of cooking sherry left over from last year’s Christmas trifle shoved to the back of the press. She blew off some dust, popped open the cork and took a sniff, recoiling from the smell. She had no idea whether or not it was still good, but she supposed it would have to do. While she was there, she grabbed the salt cellar off the table and retreated to the living room, pushing the coffee table out of the way to make space.