“What’s so great about a normal life? I’m going to be strong and fit and healthy for centuries. I’m going to live an extraordinary life.”

“If you can call that living. What about meeting someone? Falling in love? Raising a family?”

“I can still do all that.”

“But we won’t get to see it. We’ll keep ageing. We’ll die and you’ll carry on and you’ll have no one left. We won’t get to see you start a family. I want grandchildren, Steph.”

“Mum, you’re not being fair.”

“You’re not being fair. This is about more than just you. When Alice is old enough, what’s she going to think? Is she going to be like you?”

“Like me?”

“Magic,” her mum said, making it sound like a dirty word.

“I don’t know,” Valkyrie answered, suddenly hurt. She put Alice down gently. “Maybe. Maybe not. But we don’t have to tell her.”

“And when she realises that her big sister isn’t getting any older, or when she sees her big sister flying around on a broomstick or casting spells or whatever it is you do, she’s not going to want to join in the fun?”

“Mum, I don’t have all the answers.”

“When you were born, I wanted you to be special. Of course I did. Every mother does. Every parent does. Please, God, let my child be the smartest and the prettiest and the best at everything. Let her have all the advantages in the world. But there’s another thought, and it rests just underneath that one. That thought is please, please let my child be ordinary. Let her be just smart enough and just pretty enough and just special enough to get what she wants and be happy.

“Extraordinary people are outcasts, Steph. They’re shunned. They’re called names. They’re hated and feared and misunderstood. I just wanted you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

“Des, feel free to contribute. Don’t you dare make me the bad guy in this.”

Valkyrie’s dad was silent a moment longer, and she knew he was sorting his thoughts into some kind of order in his head. When he was ready, he spoke. “I think it’s wonderful.”

Valkyrie looked up.

“You can’t be serious,” her mum said.