It is a necklace with two small brightly coloured stones from Green Lake. As I stare at them, I find myself spiralling into them, and at their very centre is a white antelope. I look up at Jaddi.

‘Now you know who you are, let the antelope guide your heart and protect you,’ Jaddi says.

He places the necklace around my neck. I cover the stones with my hands. They are warm against my skin.

‘Jaddi,’ I say, ‘I have dreamed many times that I will drown on my twelfth birthday and that the creature who will drown me is Kalila. Is my dream a premonition? I can’t believe she would do that . . .’

Jaddi sighs and stands up. He rubs his forehead.

‘I have lived a long life and have gained much knowledge,’ he finally says. ‘But I cannot see into the future, Ziggy. Kalila and you are entwined, that much we know. But in what way?’ He shrugs.

‘One thing I do now know for certain is that your grandfather can help. Reach out to him with your mind. But this time do not block him with your own thoughts. The jinn made your grandfather ill, but he is a strong man. He fought and still fights with all his might to withstand the evil. You must make it easy for him to communicate with you.’

‘Does this mean that if we defeat the jinn, Grandpa Truegood can be well again?’ I say. My heart sings at this thought.

‘The jinn’s power is great. I do not know how far he has damaged your grandfather’s mind,’ Jaddi says. ‘One step at a time, Ziggy Truegood. That is all you can take. One step at a time . . .’

Mystic stands up and wags his tail. I hear Momma’s car pull up. I know it by the chugging motor, even over the rain. I wonder how she knew where I was.

When Raffi opens the door, Momma peers inside the caravan, frowning. ‘Is my daughter here?’ she says abruptly, without any greeting.

‘Good evening, Mrs Truegood,’ Raffi says, politely. ‘Yes, she is. Would you like to come in?’

Momma hovers at the doorway, wet and flustered. ‘I’ll wait in the car,’ she says, and leaves.

I feel so embarrassed. I stand quickly. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say to Jaddi. ‘My mother is so rude.’

‘No matter,’ says Jaddi.

‘Thank you for everything,’ I say. Then I turn to Raffi. ‘Meet me at the tree house tomorrow morning at six, okay?’ And I run down the steps into the rain.

Mystic is already in the back seat of the car. I climb in beside Momma. The windscreen wipers make horrible squealing sounds as the rubber shudders and scrapes. The tension inside the car is like a monster growing bigger and bigger until there doesn’t seem to be any space to breathe.

‘You need new wiper blades,’ I say, looking out of the window.

‘I told you I didn’t want you to see that boy again.’ Momma’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel.

‘That’s hard when he’s in my class at school. You wouldn’t even let me introduce you, and if you had talked to him you might have found out that Raffi’s grandfather is a lot like Grandpa.’

‘I blame your grandfather for giving you ideas that are far too big for you,’ she says.

I don’t want to argue. Not now when I know so much more about myself and what is really important. Instead, I ask her, ‘Why do you let me play in the woods when nobody else does?’

‘You’ve always been headstrong. I couldn’t stop you,’ Momma says. She is silent for a moment as though she is rummaging in a drawer in her mind for something. ‘It was your grandfather who showed you the woods for the first time.’

‘Grandpa Truegood?’ I say. ‘I can’t remember being with anyone in the woods but Mystic.’

‘You were very young. He took you a few times until I stopped him.’

‘What about Jake and Pete? Did Grandpa Truegood take them there too?’

Momma shakes her head. ‘He said you were special. That’s why he had to show you Hushing Wood. He said you had to learn. Learn what? I asked him. But he never answered.’

I don’t say any more. Neither does Momma. She is no longer angry. I can feel her sadness, but I need to talk to Grandpa Truegood and I need to do it now.

I close my eyes and reach out to him, like Jaddi told me to do. I see him in his room in Gold Leaf Lodge.

‘Rima, my lovely white antelope,’ he says, smiling and lifting his head from his book.

Inside, I feel muscle and velvety fur, strong legs and long antlers. ‘Yes, I am Rima, the white antelope,’ I say.

‘Then it is time,’ he says. ‘When you were small I gave you a tiny jade bottle.’

‘Yes, Grandpa,’ I say. ‘It’s one of my favourite things.’

‘This bottle holds the key that will unlock a secret.’

‘A secret to what, Grandpa?’

‘Climb the mountain, Rima. Stop at the top.’

I’m jolted back as the car swerves. A large branch misses the hood of our car by inches.

‘That was close,’ Momma says.

Too close, I think, looking around for the jinn.

I reach my hand to the backseat to stroke Mystic, my dog, my wolf and my protector.

As soon as I’m inside the house, I go to my room. I take a magnifying glass out of my drawer and the tiny jade bottle off the shelf and sit on the bed.

The girl in the painting is looking up at the mountain peak, where there’s a small pagoda. Grandpa Truegood said to climb the mountain. So I do, with my eyes.

He also talked about a key. Do I need a key to unlock the door? I can’t see anything that might be a key. And is it a real key I’m looking for?

I turn the bottle around, but the back is just plain white jade. I travel down the path, looking at every detail until I come to the girl again. Her hair hangs in a black ponytail down her back. She’s wearing a long green dress tied in the middle with a wide pink sash.

I look carefully through the magnifying glass. There’s something about her clothing I had never noticed before. I’d always thought the material was a pattern of flowers and birds. But now, up close, they look like tiny symbols.

I grab a pencil and paper and carefully copy down the symbols exactly as they appear on the dress. Once that’s done I lie back on my bed and try to make sense of them. I’m not good at puzzles. I wish Big Bobby Little were here. They look like lots of Ls turned back to front and upside-down. I rub my eyes from the strain as the symbols blur.

‘Climb the mountain . . . stop at the top. Climb the mountain, stop at the top,’ I say over and over. ‘Stop at the top . . .’

I sit up and look at the bottle again. It’s not quite the shape of a mountain, but it could be. It’s wide at the bottom and narrows at the top, where it finishes with a cork stopper. It’s strange that such a beautiful bottle has such a cheap top, I think, staring at it.

Then it hits me. Stop at the top!

Could the cork stopper be what Grandpa Truegood means?

I try to pry it open, but it’s stuck fast to the lip of the bottle. I use a penknife to carefully work my way around the lip, but still no luck.

Exasperated, I sit back and drop the bottle into my lap. How could there be a key inside this tiny bottle? What would it unlock anyway?

Mystic jumps on the bed and licks my face. I bury my head into his hair. ‘Do you think it’s time for bed?’ I say. He burrows into my side, making me smile. ‘I think you’re right. We have to be up at six tomorrow to meet Raffi.’

As I get up off the bed, I hear a small thud. I’d forgotten about the bottle. I pick it up from the rug and inspect it carefully to make sure it’s not broken. Thankfully it’s fine . . . except . . .

I take my magnifying glass and look at the base. There is a small engraving on the bottom that must be the artist’s mark. But in the middle of this mark is a tiny hole. I look around for something to poke inside. It’s so small not even a needle would fit. But a strand of hair would.

I pluck one from my head and poke it into the hole. It is too soft, and bends.

‘Come here, Mystic boy,’ I say, and run my hand along his neck. Dark grey hairs come away. I pick the thickest strand. It only goes in a little way before the lid of the bottle pops up.

My hands tremble as I lift off the cork stopper.