‘Don’t look down, silly,’ she told herself.

She got down on her hands and knees and began to crawl along the thick bough. It was scary, but she kept her eyes on the nest. As she pulled herself nearer she saw that it was made of a mass of objects, all shinily woven together. Cups and plates and knives and forks. Salvers and necklaces, dishes and rings and winding watch chains. Amulets and bracelets and tiaras. And hundreds of coins, all glinting and shining among the branches.

Seren was almost blinded by the splendour of it. It was a heap of treasure!

But there was no mistaking the Egg.

It sat right in the middle of the heap. It was large and smooth and creamy white, with no markings on it at all. She thought it was bigger than a normal swan’s egg; in any case it would be awkward enough to get down. The Egg of the Midnight Swan! What if she dropped it! She dared not even think about that.

Seren crawled nearer. With every movement the branch dipped. It was really springy now, and her hands were green with lichen and her knees were sore. Finally, she lifted one hand and reached out. She had to stretch, because she didn’t dare let go with her other hand. Her fingers waved in the air.

Not quite enough.

She slid a tiny bit more.

A bee buzzed round her. She ducked away, and wobbled. ‘Stop that,’ she hissed.

She touched the Egg.

It moved slightly. She jerked her hand back, because she had to be so careful!

Then, with her knees and ankles gripping tight, she let go of the branch, waited till she felt balanced, and bent and lifted the Egg with both hands.

A chill breeze gusted around her.

She wobbled.

Quickly she wrapped the Egg in her skirt and held it there with one hand.

She started to slide backwards. It was very difficult. What made it worse was that a wind seemed to have arrived from nowhere, and the branches were bending and flexing and her hair was blowing in her eyes. But finally she felt the tree trunk at her back.

She grabbed the trunk and held it tight.

For a moment she felt so breathless she couldn’t move. How could she climb down? Holding an Egg? It would be impossible! If only the Crow was here!

Yes, but that’s your fault, she told herself sternly. Because you didn’t tell him where you were going. And so now you are going to have to do this on your own.

She nodded.

And then laughed at herself.

The Box! This was just what it was for!

She wriggled the bag round and balanced the Egg between her knees. Then she pulled the Box out and opened it, and there was the beautiful egg-shaped space, all waiting. She laid the Egg in its pale blue silk and closed the Box tight.

She almost felt it sigh with satisfaction.