He stared. ‘It’s too late to find one. They’ve all hatched.’

‘I know. That’s the problem.’

‘Gwyn!’ Mrs Villiers was beckoning. ‘I need you to go to the village. Right now.’

‘Sorry, Seren.’ He backed away. ‘If you’d looked a few months ago there were some. You’d need magic to find one now.’

‘Yes,’ she said.

Then he was running to the stables.

She pulled her head in and stared at the reflection of the Box in the dressing-table window.

She didn’t have magic.

But They did.

And she wasn’t scared of Them.

7

A promise is made

You may be bold, and merry and bright.

But we are the fears that come out at night.

It was very dangerous, but she was sure she could do it.

First, she went down to the cellars and tried the locked door, but she already knew this way was blocked; Denzil had made sure of that. No one would be going down the strange golden stairs as Tomos once had. She had to find Them by another way.

She had the Box in a small bag hanging over her shoulder. It clunked against her hip.

She crept out of the side door just before Mrs Villiers could see her and ran down the path past the greenhouses and the kitchen garden with its rows of cabbages and carrots, then slipped through the gate. The hanging iron implements rattled ominously as she closed the latch behind her. Now she was outside.

They could be anywhere here.

The wood was the best place to start, she thought. In woods you always felt as if They were watching you, from behind trees and up in branches.

Seren walked across the lawn. It was very hot; she was glad to get into the shade of the trees and under the heavy canopy of branches. They were so thick with summer growth that soon she couldn’t see anything around her but leaves. The path grew thin and spindly, and the trunks of the trees seemed closer together than usual.

She walked on.

It was a cooler, greener world here and she was deep inside it. And maybe she was already in Their world, because she had walked so far that she should surely have come to the wall of the estate by now. Instead, the day felt sleepy and strange.

Bright butterflies danced around her.

And she felt the ground was rising, and she was climbing, and that shouldn’t be, because the park was flat.

Then the sounds began. Creaks and rustles.

Murmurs and whispers.

She looked back, and spun around trying to catch a movement. There was nothing, but she knew They were here.

She walked on boldly until she came into a small clearing in the trees, where she stopped.

This was the place. She could feel Their curiosity and laughter and malice.

She looked all around. Then she took a breath and said in a loud voice, ‘You stole an Egg from the Midnight Swan. I know all about that. It was very wrong to do that. So now I’m asking you to give me the Egg. We need it very much. I would be very grateful.’ To be polite she added, ‘Thank you.’