‘…opened the door!’ Tomos gasped. He was sitting up now, tense with excitement.

‘Am I telling this story or are you?’ the Crow snapped.

‘Sorry. You are.’

‘So keep quiet. Yes. I opened the door. I went in. And that’s when the strange things started to happen.’ It paused.

‘Oh, go on!’ Seren groaned.

The Crow shrugged. ‘I walked into summer.’

‘Summer?’

‘A summer garden. I stepped right out of winter into a glorious warm starry night. The garden smelled so sweet, and it was full of flowers. The trees were heavy with leaves and pollen, oak and ash and thorn. Bees and insects flitted between the branches. And a silver moon hung over a dark lake.’

‘Amazing!’ Seren muttered. She was really enjoying the story.

‘Indeed. So much so I found it rather hard to believe. Was I dreaming? I looked round and even called out but there was no sign of anyone. Outside the gate was the snowy wood. I turned back and, over the treetops, I could just make out the grey turrets of a castle. Now, in this garden there were some beautiful roses…’

‘I know! I know what’s going to happen!’ Tomos scrambled excitedly up onto his knees. ‘You…’

The Crow folded its wings. He looked mortally offended. ‘That’s it. I’m not going on.’

‘Please!’ Seren begged. ‘Please do!’

The Crow took a deliberate minute. It preened its ruffled feathers. Tomos fidgeted; Seren glared him to stillness. He had to let the Crow tell the tale. Or they’d never hear the truth.

Finally the Crow smoothed a last barb and said, ‘Well. The roses. I suppose it was wrong. I mean they didn’t belong to me. I would have left money, you know. I just wasn’t given the chance. Anyway, as you guessed, I did a most foolish thing. I took out my knife and cut a white rose, with a long stem and dewdrops on its petals.’

‘I knew it,’ Tomos whispered.

The Crow ignored him. ‘Immediately the gate in the wall behind me clanged shut. Thunder rumbled. Lightning flashed. All the flowers in the garden turned their heads to look at me. And the white rose in my hand began to sing.’

‘Sing?’

The Crow nodded. ‘That’s the only word for it. Not like a human singing. A pure, high, silvery song. A terrible lament. Like nothing I’d ever heard. I wanted to drop the rose immediately, of course, to throw it away. I actually tried. But my fingers were stuck to its stem.’

‘Gosh!’ Seren shivered. Suddenly the summerhouse seemed cool, as if touched with a sinister, silvery magic. She edged into the warm sunlight.

‘I couldn’t get rid of it. I shook it, then pulled at it with my other hand, but that was worse because now both my hands were stuck to it! And still it sang that terrible song.’

‘Were you scared?’

‘No. Not… Well…’ the Crow shrugged. ‘Maybe just a little. And then the owner of the garden came.’