Morgan squeezes my hand tighter and warmth floods along my arm like liquid sunshine. Tiny dots of light spark and flicker at the edges of my vision as a sense of wellbeing infuses every cell of my being. If this is magic, it is utterly exhilarating. I feel as if I’m standing on the edge of a cliff with sea spray hitting my face, about to soar into the sky. Tom’s eyes remain closed but he’s no longer twisting his head back and forth. He’s breathing hard, his cheeks flushed. The energy continues to surge through me and into him, and the warm glow in my chest grows stronger. The sensation is intoxicating, but more than that, it feels good to know that I’m helping him.

Morgan nods her approval and I hold her gaze and smile. And then I see a face reflected in her black pupils – a girl with long dark hair and red lips, her eyes blazing with witch-light. A girl who isn’t me.

I release her hand and the energy stops abruptly like an elastic band snapping back. Morgan leans forward on her haunches then takes a shuddery breath and jumps awkwardly to the floor. Her face is fish-pale and sickly, her eyes clouded over once more. She looks sunken in on herself, and I have an urge to take her in my arms and give her my energy; anything so that she’ll be well. Whoever I was in a previous life, I know that I needed her to be strong. Without her, everything is lost.

‘Are you OK? Morgan?’

She shakes her head. ‘I cannot drive the demons out of him, at least not tonight. He is too weak and would not survive. I have done my best to soothe him. He needs time to rest and regain his strength, as do I.’

Tom is sleeping soundly, his chest gently rising and falling. Whatever she did just now – whatever we did – seems to have worked. And yet it’s cost her so much.

She glances back at him. ‘You must not wake him, even if he cries out. You must let him sleep. I will return tomorrow and do what I can.’

‘Thank you.’

My fingers tingle and I hold up my hands, marvelling at the gentle thrum of magic within them. The energy is no longer coursing through me, but I can still feel its presence, the afterglow like the taste of warm honey on my tongue.

‘Morgan, can I try it again? Can I heal him?’

She raises her eyebrows. ‘Your energy is strong but not focused. It will take time for you to direct it unaided.’

I nod, disappointed that I can’t do more to help him. I’m still fearful of waking the witch inside me, but the feeling of magic is so thrilling that I want to experience it again. The realisation is unsettling.