‘It wasn’t you.’ Tomos picked up his bag and checked the Box was secure. ‘It was Seren. And you shouldn’t keep trying to take the credit.’

The Crow waggled its head, annoyed. ‘Yes. All right.’

Seren looked around. ‘Come on. Let’s go quickly in case they come back. Towards the sunset is this way.’

There was a narrow path heading west and she hurried along it, Then, because she was so worried about the time, she ran. They had to deliver the Egg and get back for the Midsummer Ball, because the Tylwyth Teg would be there and who knew what might happen! She had visions of coming back and finding a hundred years had passed! Plas-y-Fran would be a ruin, all its roofs gone and the gables standing stark against the sky. Rain would be falling on the carpet of the grand staircase. Or maybe it would all just be magicked away like the palace in Al-Adin, far away across the sea, with Captain Jones and Lady Mair and Denzil and Sam the cat and everyone else inside it.

She looked up.

The sun had set.

The sky was darker, and the first stars were coming out.

The path had narrowed; now it ran between high hedges. Swooping in front, the Crow landed awkwardly. Then it looked back, its head cocked.

‘What?’ Seren gasped, catching up and holding her side.

‘Ssssh!’ The Crow listened intently. Then it frowned. ‘Someone is still following us.’

Seren couldn’t hear a thing. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Totally. I can hear footsteps. Steady and swift.’

‘Who can it be?’ Tomos came close; for a moment they all listened until Seren thought she could hear something too.

‘Is it Them? From the other boat?’ she whispered.

‘Who else could it be? They want that Egg back. They want me to stay a bird for ever.’ The Crow scowled. ‘Well, that’s never going to happen. At once, please, Tomos. The pin-cushion!’

Now Seren could definitely hear something walking soft and stealthy through the dark. ‘Quick!’ she hissed. ‘Hurry up!’

Tomos had the pin-cushion out. He turned his back and threw it over his shoulder, at the very same moment that a tall, dark figure turned the corner.

Instantly a thicket of thorns filled the lane.

It was so high it couldn’t be climbed, and so thick and tangled it couldn’t be seen through. Black sharp thorns, spiny as pins, big as corkscrews, sprouted out everywhere.

‘HA! Let Them get through THAT!’ the Crow smirked. It dusted its wings together with satisfaction and turned. ‘Let’s go.’

Seren turned too. Then she stopped. A faint muffled shout of dismay had come from the other side of the thorn thicket. For a moment she hesitated. It didn’t actually sound like Them. But then she remembered that They were full of all sorts of tricks. You could never be too careful.

She ran after Tomos and the Crow.

The path led them down into a dry ditch and then up and up onto a grassy hill. Now they were running on open turf under a sky that was definitely full of stars, and far off in the east the moon was rising: a silver globe.