I was in a ballroom again, but it wasn’t the right ballroom.


This one was in a forest. It was enormous. And magnificent. I’d never been much for music and dancing, but something about this place made my toes tingle.

Unless that was the feeling still coming back after the nasty shoes.


The floor stretched before me, smooth polished wood in a deep brown that glowed as if burnished in the dim light. Giant columns of clear crystal surrounded the floor, supporting galleries and alcoves above, and massive straight-trunked trees stood in groves between them. If Cecelia, Zenna and I all joined hands, we wouldn’t reach around these gigantic trunks. Festoons of tiny golden lights trailed from one balcony to the next, illuminating walkways shrouded by foliage. The columns were tall, but the trees towered, their branches weaving together to create a canopy over the entire room. Through the leaves, I glimpsed the dusky blue of a twilight sky.


Music played from somewhere, a quiet instrumental piece with a mysterious tone. And an anxious edge. I shivered. I couldn’t see any speakers, nor any orchestra, but since it was probably all in my head, I supposed the music didn’t have to be coming from anywhere except my imagination.


Soft footsteps sounded, and I tore my eyes from the astonishing trees. A figure crossed the floor, wearing a dark, ankle-length coat and a cowl. They stopped a few metres away, their face shadowed, and stooped to pick up my sandal.


‘Gabrielle Adele Whitehall?’


I nodded. ‘Yes.’ Then I wondered if I should have acknowledged my identity. Very few people even knew my full name.


‘Good.’ They turned to go, my shoe still in their hand.


‘Wait!’ I started after them, then stopped as my bare foot touched the floor. The tingling sensation wasn’t the shoes or my pinched nerves. The floor buzzed – not a vibration, not quite, but a sense of potential energy waiting to be released. It shimmered up through my ankles and knees.


The figure turned, expectant. My mouth was dry as I wondered what to ask. How to get back had been at the front of my mind, but now that they’d paused, I found I wanted more. What was this place? Was it real? The question I really wanted to ask was, is magic real?


I swallowed.


‘The trees make the music.’ The figure reached out and set a palm on one of the great trunks. ‘This is the last tenorbark ballroom in the universe, but it won’t be here for much longer. I’m afraid we are already too late. Only one survives the fire.’


‘What does that mean?’


‘It doesn’t matter. You won’t remember this.’


Before I could demand any further explanation, they dropped their hand and strode away, disappearing halfway across the vast floor as if they’d melted into shadow.

Then the floor disappeared too as the green box materialised around me, and again, everything went black.