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‘It doesn’t matter,’ I say. ‘I have some power, and that will have to be enough. My friends are in there, and they know who I am. That legend of yours about the Lost Prince is still spoken about, and even if they don’t all believe it, it still means something. It means me. I wish we’d helped sooner.’

‘I know,’ she says. ‘Honestly, Stella, if I thought we could have, then I would. They are my folk in there, as much as they are yours.’

‘And yet we left them.’

‘I died!’ she says. ‘It was my time. And then, when I returned, it was as this flimsy thing. Your mother used the last of her magic to bring me back; it was her last wish that I be here to care for you. And energy is finite, Stella. I had to make sure I’d be around for as long as you needed me. I realized that day when we were on the edge of Winterspell, and the shadows rushed around us, that I didn’t have the strength to fight them and to look after you . . . I chose you.’ She leaves her chair and comes towards me, her figure pulsing. ‘I would always, will always – I shall never regret choosing you.’

She cups her hands around my chin, and though they don’t touch me, I can feel the warmth there.

She has always been here. A bit faded, a bit tattered, sometimes downright see-through. But always, always here.

‘OK,’ I say finally, when I can find my voice again.

She moves away, settling back into her chair.

‘So, I’ll do it for the both of us.’

She smiles through the worry in her eyes. ‘Don’t lose your way,’ she says, her voice clear and firm, regal. ‘Keep to the path. Find the palace. And when you get there, keep going. Find what you need in there and break the curse – blast those shadows to smithereens. And when you’ve done that, my Stella, you’ll see Winterspell just as it always was. Just as it should be once more. Peg, find the lantern! You’ll go with her this time.’

‘I know I will.’ He sighs. ‘Even though technically I’m banished . . .’

‘That isn’t going to stop you now, my warrior Peg.’

He bristles and then starts digging around in the cupboard by the back door, finally dragging out an old, dusty lantern with glass sides and stiff metal shutters.

‘Behold, the oldest fae lamp in all the world, with a crack that surely shall lead to our downfall,’ he says miserably, blowing at it and coughing on the dust.

‘We’ll be fine,’ I say, grabbing it from him and giving it a wipe with a tea towel.

It begins to glow, and so I take a deep breath, straighten my spine, grab my coat from the brass hook and march out of the back door without a backward look – straight into Zara.

‘Hey!’ She staggers back. ‘Steady, with your swinging lantern and all! What are you doing?’

‘Zara!’ I clatter her into an awkward hug, not sure I’ve ever been so glad to see anyone. ‘You came back!’

‘Well, I wasn’t about to let you have an adventure on your own,’ she says. ‘I mean . . . if I can come, that is. I’m sorry I dashed off like that . . .’ She draws back, and for the first time, I can see the doubt in her. She’s been so invested in everything, and it must be hard. Being in a new town after her parents’ separation, making friends with people who turn out to not be people at all.

‘Please come,’ I say. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing, and this lantern is a bit broken, and Peg’s supposed to be coming, but he’s still HIDING in the house, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that we got into a row like that. I didn’t mean to keep secrets from you. The whole Lost Prince legend is so messed up.’

‘You are the Lost Prince, though,’ she says.

‘I’m the Shadow King’s daughter,’ I say. ‘So, whatever the legends say, I guess that must mean something. Yanny was right. It is me. I was panicking – I didn’t know what to do. Peg said it would all look different in the morning.’ I look around at the slowly brightening sky. ‘I suppose it does. Are you OK?’

‘I am.’ She smiles. ‘And it’s OK. I’ve got my own secrets.’

‘You have? What are they?’

‘Ha! As if I’d tell you so easily. You’ll have to wait and see!’

‘OK. But whatever they are, it won’t change anything. I already think you’re awesome, you know.’ I grin.

‘Of course I know,’ she says, tucking her arm through mine. ‘The feeling is mutual, Stella. Whoever you are.’

‘PEG!’ I shout, as we go through the gate and out on to the moors. ‘Come on!’

He joins us a moment later, scuttling over scrubby grass beneath a shift of fog, which hangs below a star-bright, lightening sky. Teacake bounds out of Winterspell towards us and gives a little yowl of approval.

My breath steams, and my nerves start to kick in, like little shocks under my skin. The shadows instantly gather, thick at the edge of the forest, and we form a little chain: Teacake at the front, her fur on end; then me, with imp Peg on my shoulder; and Zara at the back, clutching my hand.

Her skin is warm, and the heels of our hands fit together like I never knew could happen. All those times I wanted a real, solid hand to hold, now I have one, and I’m leading its owner straight into danger. She tightens her fingers in mine, stronger than they look, and when I look back, she’s bright with the adventure of it all, her eyes gleaming.

And then the horn sounds. A golden ripple that takes our breath away and bursts through the shadows, just for an instant, as Rory calls the new day, and the trees shift, the birds lifting in flight.

We venture in, through the narrow path that twitches at every corner with creatures awakening. As the horn fades, the shadows creep back in, and they come thick and fast, unfurling in the winter air. I’m turned around so quick, that before I know it, Zara is leading the way, Peg barking out instructions I can barely hear through the growl of the wolves and the screech of the shadow birds that loom down from outstretched, blackened branches, their forms twisted and elongated.

‘Focus!’ Peg snaps at me. ‘Can’t leave your friend to do this alone. Now is the time, Stella.’

I take a long, deep breath, put my fingers on the silver-and-gold acorn, and keep my eyes trained on Zara. The shadows retreat to the corners of my eyes, and I watch as Teacake darts back and forth before us as if she’s testing out the ground – perhaps she is.

Peg digs his claws into my shoulder, and we keep going until the path widens, and daylight streams into the clearing around the wildest part of the river, where the shadows are afraid to roam. They still flick and whisper through the branches of the trees, but in this space, there is clear air, and the rush of silver water sounds like hope.

Teacake halts here and stares up at me, as if waiting for me to act.

‘Where’s the palace, Peg?’ I whisper.

‘I don’t know where it is,’ he says. ‘That’s the whole point, Stella. Nobody does. Nobody has been able to find it, all this time. I did try, before I was banished . . .’

‘You never did say why – perhaps now is the time? Who banished you? The shadows?’

He huffs, letting out a sulphurous cloud. ‘Not them. No. The head of the council, Rory.’

‘The centauride,’ whispers Zara, her eyes round. ‘She banished you? Oh dear.’

‘Why oh dear?’ I ask. ‘I know she’s fierce, but . . .’