‘It isn’t a creature, a living thing,’ he says. ‘It’s created out of night itself – a product of fear.’
‘Then how do I even do anything to it.’
He sniffs. ‘I don’t know. I’ve avoided them as much as I can. Perhaps I should have made a study of them instead.’
‘Why aren’t you allowed in there, Peg?’ I ask.
He stares at me for a few moments.
‘Not all things can be so easily spoken of,’ he says, winding his tail through his fingers. ‘It was a misunderstanding. A silly thing that I haven’t had the time to fix.’
‘So you’re not going to tell me?’
‘Not now, no,’ he says. ‘Come on – let’s sort this shadow.’
I blow my breath out and shake my head at him, and then we creep through the kitchen, and I shove on my boots and open the back door as quietly as I can, trying not to alert Nan to what we’re doing.
The garden is creepy at night. I light the lanterns that swing from iron hooks on the outer stone wall of the house, and the moon is high, but there is still so much darkness. Peg is a sharp-clawed bronze bat on my shoulder, and we dance between the light patches, scouring the empty air for signs of a shadow that shouldn’t be there.
‘Use your magic,’ he hisses after a while. ‘That’s what attracted them, when you were in the forest. Rory saw it herself. Maybe if you focus on it now, the shadow will be drawn to you.’
‘I don’t want to draw it to me!’ I say. ‘And I don’t really know what my magic is, Peg. Or how to use it.’
‘You’ve already used it,’ he says. ‘When you glamoured Yanny, for example, and probably many other times. If you’d just stop telling yourself you can’t do it, that might help. Just try,’ he says. ‘I’m here.’
There’s a small howl from my ankles; Teacake has followed us here.
I close my eyes and imagine the magic as a small fire deep inside me. I picture it getting brighter, filling my veins like a silent stream. When I open my eyes again, my whole body feels like it’s on fire.
‘Steady,’ says Peg.
I breathe out, with a little burst of silver sparks that fizz in the cold air.
‘Goodness!’ he yelps, scrambling to cover his face with his wings.
‘Sorry,’ I say.
My tongue feels dry and dusty. I try to calm the rush of energy that’s still rolling through me, and that’s when I see it. Over by the fence, perched on the henhouse, a small figure with spines running down its back.
‘What kind of creature is that?’ I ask.
‘Could be anything,’ Peg whispers. ‘They make their forms out of shadow; there are no limits.’
‘I suppose that makes sense,’ I say. ‘In the forest, there were wolves, and birds . . . and the Stag . . .’
The creature looks back over its shoulder at us, and hisses, revealing iron-grey teeth that shine.
‘It doesn’t seem to be attracted,’ I say.
‘Give it a minute.’
I focus on steadying the energy, until it’s a low hum. The creature jumps down from the henhouse and hunkers low on the ground, barely visible, and after what seems an age, it starts to move towards us.
‘What do I do?’ I whisper, terrified.
Teacake stretches out on the ground before my feet and rolls on to her back, exposing her tiny belly, the picture of unconcern. I frown.
‘Silly kitten,’ growls Peg. ‘What’s she doing?’
‘Something,’ I say.
I crouch down, put a hand on her pale fur. She curls up around my hand, her claws sharp against my skin, but not digging in, her green eyes staring as if she’s trying to tell me something. The shadow edges ever closer, watching intently, but I act like I don’t care. Like this is all perfectly normal. And then, when it’s crept closer than my mind can really bear, and all my skin is goosebumps, I take my hand away from Teacake and curl my fingers around my acorn, turning to face the shadow.
‘Go, Stella!’ says a little voice in my mind.
And so I do, eye to eye, fear against fear, I howl. A little bright spark flares around me, and the shadow is, after all, just a shadow, I tell myself in a hard, new voice. In this garden, in my home, it does not have the power of many – no power over me. The sparks keep flying, and the shadow unravels, and then I’m breathing hard, and Teacake is sitting pert and watchful, and Peg is his beautiful imp self, his tail curling over my shoulders, and the garden is, just for an instant, a blaze of pale light.
‘That’ll do it!’ Peg claps his hands. ‘Yes, Stella!’
I don’t really know whether it was me, or Teacake, or some kind of team effort, but the shadow is gone, and hopefully with it, any secrets it might have learned.
I turn and head back into the kitchen with Teacake tucked under one arm, and Peg perched on the other, and we drink warm milk huddled together on the old settee, staring into the still-glowing embers of the fire for a bit. It’s warm, and they keep close, and there is so much to think about, but I am restless, because I did it. I sent a shadow away, and if I can do that to one, I should be able to do it to many.
I should be able to do it in Winterspell.
23
School is weird the next day. From the moment I get in, the sense of everything is different. The magical kids look at me suspiciously, and without Yanny, it feels far less friendly.
‘You’re causing trouble,’ says Tash, as soon as I sit down. ‘I can’t believe you let a human up here. Haven’t you read the contract?’
‘I have, thank you. And if you have, you’ll know there are exceptions. Besides, you were the one who left the door open!’
She freezes, as everyone turns to watch us.
‘So, I don’t think anyone else has a problem with her coming in,’ I continue. ‘She’s our friend, so she stayed to help Yanny. She looked after him better than you have.’
‘What would you know about that?’
‘Well, where were you? When he was struggling with his glamour, I didn’t see you hanging about to help!’
‘I have my own glamouring to see to,’ she says. ‘I haven’t got enough for anybody else. You’re lucky you don’t need to do it. What are you, exactly?’
‘I’m a sprite,’ I say sharply, staring at her. She’s a moon sprite herself – I remember Yanny saying. Perhaps that accounts for her silver eyes and the night-dark hair that spirals around her face.
‘I thought you looked a bit crinkly about the hairline!’ says a small, round-limbed girl called Wren, coming over to sit next to me. She has tiny, beautiful horns at the top of her forehead. ‘Look – your ears are just the tiniest bit pointed, like mine.’ She pulls back her shining brown hair to reveal her own pointed ears, and grins. ‘Welcome, Stella – sprite girl.’
‘Thank you, Wren,’ I say, looking between her and Tash. ‘I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I just wanted to come to school. I didn’t realize there would be fae here.’
‘And you live in that funny old house?’ Wren asks, while Tash glowers at us both. ‘Who with?’
‘My nan, and Peg, and Teacake.’
‘What’s a peg? Who’s Teacake?’
‘Teacake is a cat. And Peg’s an imp.’
‘An imp! Your family must be important for him to stick around. They don’t like staying in one place much.’
‘I think he just likes Nan.’
‘Who’s Nan?’ asks Tash.
‘My grandma. She’s a ghost.’