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another clearing. The ground sloped steeply down, leading to a level area enclosed by trees that might have been birches but for their silver leaves. On three of the clearing’s four sides rakes of seats had been cut into the ground. On the fourth there was a single stone throne. And in the center was a garden—a garden that shone in a silver light al its own.
    “Told you it was left,” said Julia. Peter noted that she was smirking—most unnecessarily, he thought.
    But then he forgot to be annoyed, because real y it was the most extraordinary place.
    In some ways the garden looked just like the one they had left behind in Oxford. Yet this place was ruined and overgrown with weeds. Peter and Julia walked along an uneven stone pathway, overgrown with thorns and creepers, passing by a stone fountain at the center of the garden. It wasn’t working. Grass was growing in its basin and the water spouts seemed to be blocked with mud. The pond was ful of weeds and debris. Al the stonework had long since been overtaken by a mosaic of lichens and moss, and the trees seemed to have become home to a colony of bats. But in spite of al the ruin and neglect it stil had that magical touch of silver about it.

    The children were silent for a long moment as they surveyed the desolate scene.
    “It’s been abandoned for ages,” Julia said final y. Peter nodded. He was watching the shadows of the trees lengthen. They were going to be like Hansel and Gretel, lost in a dark forest. There was some shelter to be found in the trees, perhaps, but they had no food, no water, no protection against whatever dangers might lurk in the night. His father would never forgive him if something happened to Julia.
    “That pond doesn’t feel like another portal, does it?” he asked. Julia shook her head. There was no pul here—no magical presence urging them forward as it had in Oxford.

    Peter shivered. The sun was setting, and it was getting cold. Maybe he ought to light a fire. Oh, if only he had paid closer attention in Wilderness Survival!
    Julia watched the daylight lose its battle with the encroaching night. Above her, tiny pinpricks of light began to appear in the heavens. She wanted the solemn stil ness of this moment to linger forever. It seemed so—wel , so significant.
    Peter’s voice broke into her reverie. “We ought to find shelter,” he said.
    They found it in the trees. The silver branches of the birches were sturdy and yet pliable, and Peter constructed a sort of canopy under which they could sleep. They would look for water at first light, he decided. Water, and then a way home.
    Even without the comfort of a fire he was asleep before Julia. She lay back with her hands behind her head, watching through the branches as the stars winked into the sky. She smiled to herself as she watched them, and the smile stayed on her face as she fel asleep under the silent skies.

CHAPTER
4
    P eter woke from a dreamless sleep, his stomach gnawing with hunger. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and groaned. He had been expecting to wake up in the spare bedroom at his grandparents’ home in Oxford. Apparently it hadn’t been a dream.
    He pushed back the branches and stood, stretching his long limbs. The sun was stil low in the sky, but already it had burnt away the chil of the night. It promised to be a hot day. There was one thought in Peter’s mind: water.
    He bent back under the branches and shook his sister’s shoulder. She squirmed under his touch and rol ed over with a protesting sigh.
    “Julia, we need to find a stream, or some fruit trees or something,” he announced. She murmured he r agreement and was silent. Peter groaned and shook her again, more forceful y this time. “Julia!”
    “Go on; let me sleep,” she mumbled. Peter stood and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. He supposed she would be fine there—she was hidden among the tangle of branches, and anyway he could move faster without her. He glanced once more at the sun;