Bianca was so deep in thought that the noise of a key in the front door made her jump.

‘Dad!’ she exclaimed peering down the hall.

‘I’ve come back for a change of clothes,’ he explained. ‘I thought you were at the library.’

‘It was closed. I forgot. It’s Sunday.’

‘Oh. The mayor has called a meeting in City Hall this afternoon.’ He went to the fridge and took out a tub of leek-and-potato soup, tipping it into a pan and turning on the gas. ‘He’s going to lead a discussion about the frozen children. People are frightened. We need to come together and decide what should be done.’

Bianca thought about little Gwen. ‘Can I come with you to the meeting?’

‘Yes, if you want to.’ Her father looked surprised. ‘It might be boring and . . . well, a bit upsetting.’

‘I want to come. I need to tell people about the silver books.’

‘Silver books?’

‘Yes. Finn had one, and I saw Sophie Lilley with one before she was frozen—’

‘Bianca.’ Her dad shook his head. ‘Now is not the time for one of your tall tales. Other people won’t humour you like your mother and I do. This situation is deadly serious.’

Bianca’s mouth hung open. ‘This isn’t a story,’ she protested.

‘I’m making soup.’ He turned to face the cooker. ‘Do you want some?’

‘Dad, you have to believe me.’

‘Bianca.’ Her dad’s voice softened as he saw she was getting upset. ‘Let’s say you’re right and this book has something to do with the frozen children.’

‘I am,’ Bianca insisted. ‘It does.’

‘Then can you tell me how a book carried Finn to the park and froze him?’ He stirred the soup silently for a moment. ‘Because that’s what I keep asking myself. How did Finn go from lying safe in his bed, fast asleep, to being in the park, encased in ice?’

‘I . . . I don’t know,’ Bianca admitted. She wondered whether she should tell him about the four children in the bookmaking factory disguising themselves as a man in a top hat, but knew it sounded made up. He’d never believe her. ‘Perhaps it’s magic,’ she suggested weakly.

‘Bianca, I don’t believe in magic and dragons and wizards.’ Her dad smiled sadly. ‘Those things only exist in books and stories – else I’d put on a suit of armour and charge about slaying dragons until someone gave us Finn back.’

When the soup was hot, he poured it into two bowls and put them down on the table.

Bianca took the spoon and the bread he offered her. She agreed with her dad. Magic did exist in books, especially silver glittering ones.

They ate in silence.

‘I need to tidy myself up before the meeting.’ Her dad finished his soup by mopping his bowl clean with a hunk of bread. ‘I won’t be long.’

The image of Gwen clutching her glittering book was at the forefront of Bianca’s mind as she finished her soup. She needed to get the message to everyone in the city not to let their children read the silver stories. If she went to the meeting and told all the grown-ups that Gwen Olsen had a cursed book and would become one of the frozen children at midnight, and then it came true, they’d have to believe her.

As Bianca and her dad walked down the street, she noticed the drop in temperature had changed the sound of the city. Ice made porous surfaces solid, so that they reflected noises, creating eerie echoes. People’s footsteps sounded loud and sharp. It made Bianca jumpy. She kept looking over her shoulder, half expecting to see a towering figure wearing a long dark coat and top hat.

When they reached City Hall, a crowd was gathered outside. People drew back as Bianca and her father arrived, letting them pass. Anxious parents clutched their children tightly. She saw fear and pity in their eyes. Theirs was one of the frozen families.

The clock chimed. People were seated. The mayor, dressed in his official garb of red coat and chunky gold chain, stepped onto the stage, flanked by two officers. He raised his hands and the murmuring crowd fell silent.

Bianca looked around. The hall was stuffed with concerned people. For a second, right at the back, she thought she caught a glimpse of a black top hat, and her stomach squirmed with alarm, but then it was gone. Were the strange children here? She grabbed her dad’s hand, suddenly deciding she would tell him about them, but the mayor began speaking.

‘I have called this meeting to discuss the three frozen children,’ the mayor said, looking at the silent crowd. ‘I am a parent of little ones. Like you, I am alarmed and want to understand what is going on.’

‘What’s happening to our children?’ a woman called out.

‘We don’t know.’ The mayor shook his head. ‘However, although the children are frozen, the doctor assures me that they are all alive. We have medical specialists coming to town tomorrow to advise on the best route forward.’

‘What can we do to keep our children safe?’ asked a man.

‘Nothing,’ a low rumbling voice replied, and Bianca saw a man with the same features as his son but whose head was crowned with silver hair. It was Casper’s dad, Mr Rimes. ‘My doors and windows were locked.’ He shook his head. ‘And still my boy was taken from me.’

‘Is it a disease?’ one parent shouted at the mayor. ‘Is it infectious? Should we be looking for a cure?’

‘I need to know how I can protect my babies!’ a mother cried.

The meeting was getting out of control. Bianca knew she had to say something quickly before it collapsed into chaos. Her heart was racing as she rose from her seat. Her father looked puzzled as she walked to the front of the hall and stood before the stage, facing the crowd. Her lungs felt tight and her mouth was dry but she said, as loudly and as clearly as she could, ‘My name is Bianca Albedo. I know what made my brother freeze.’

The crowded hall fell silent. Suddenly she felt every eye upon her.

‘What did she say?’ someone near the front whispered.

‘I know what froze my brother,’ Bianca said. ‘It was a silver book.’

‘Did she say she’d been reading a book?’ came another whisper.

‘Finn was reading a silver book that he got from the library the night he was frozen—’

‘Which book?’ someone asked.

‘I don’t know what it’s called, but—’

‘Of course! It was a book that did it!’ A well-meaning woman at the front winked at Bianca. ‘A spell book probably. Am I right?’

Several people sniggered.

‘Don’t be cruel,’ someone hissed. ‘She lost her little brother.’

‘Finn’s not dead!’ Bianca snapped, feeling herself getting hot. ‘He’s frozen!’

‘We should be trying to thaw the children,’ a voice called out, and there was a murmur of approval at this idea.

‘How do we do that?’

‘We could build fires at their feet!’

‘We could spray them with hot water!’

And suddenly all the adults were calling out, talking over one another, about ways to warm the children.

In a panic, Bianca could feel her moment slipping away. ‘If you don’t believe me,’ she cried over the clamour, ‘tonight more children will be frozen and one of them will be—’

A voice bellowed, drowning her out. ‘Mr Mayor, what do you think about thawing the children?’

With a lurch of fear, Bianca recognized the bellowing voice. It belonged to the boy in the bear suit. The one called Quilo. She saw the towering figure in dark glasses and top hat standing to the side of the hall. She glared at it, gritting her teeth angrily. Jack’s chin lifted. Bianca was determined not to be stared down. But as the dark glasses lowered, she faltered, suppressing a gasp, as she saw that Jack’s eyes were like two opal stones, with no pupils or irises, utterly unreadable.

Chilled to the very marrow of her bones, Bianca turned away, suddenly afraid, hurrying back through the concerned people of the city.

When she reached her dad, he was on his feet, shouting angrily, ‘I will not allow anyone to build a fire anywhere near my son!’

Everyone was hollering and calling out. No one was listening. The mayor had his hands up, trying to instil order.

Bianca took in all their frightened and angry faces and knew they weren’t going to listen to what she had to say. She was on her own. And every day that she failed to stop the four oddball kids with their silver books more of the city’s children would turn up frozen in the park.

‘Let’s get out of here, Dad,’ she said, pulling at his arm. ‘I want to go home.’