Her wings were torn – that much she could feel. The shooting pain emanating from them combined with the unnatural numbness in the rest of her body made the feeling unbearably acute. She bit her lip and tried to endure the pain, knowing that even with her powers there was no way she could make it stop – not now. She was weak – too weak.

'Silky?...'

She knew that voice, turned over to see where it was coming from, suddenly smiled as she gazed into the friendly, naive eyes of Moon-Face. He might have said something else, but she didn't know what, for a burst of pain rocketed through her, from her shoulders to her toes and back again, and she slipped back into unconsciousness.

Melissa saw that her parents had already made good progress on moving in. Boxes were stacked in the entrance-hall, many of which had been unopened; the contents were in the process of being taken into the different rooms of the house. Just as she entered the living-room her father appeared, beaming down at her over a huge box filled with all of her favourite toys.

'Come and help me with your bedroom while your mother's making tea,' he said, and she trailed after him upstairs, a little lost in her thoughts. She wanted to be back in the forest, back at the site of that strange tree with its doors in the trunk. Who lived there – or had lived there? Who were Silky and the Angry Pixie?

Just as she entered her room, she noticed that something was different a few seconds before she realised what it was. Then she saw the chair in the middle of the room. It was a large wooden chair, quite old but still gleaming, rather beautiful in its carvings and with a red cushion on the seat.

'Where did the chair come from?' she asked.

'Oh, there was a rag-and-bone man came by. I wouldn't have bought anything off him but I liked the chair and he was selling it cheap,' her father explained. 'Why, don't you like it?'

'I like it,' Melissa said quickly and truthfully. 'It's pretty.' She sat on it, trying it out for size, and found it surprisingly comfortable. Her legs were a long way off the floor and she swung her feet against the chair legs. 'Can it be my throne?'

'Your throne? Yes, of course it can.' Her father smiled. 'Queen Melissa. What can I do for you, Your Majesty?'

Melissa grinned. 'You can sort out all my toys, peasant,' she laughed.

'Good queens help their subjects,' her father replied, bending down to start unpacking the toys.

Melissa jumped down semi-reluctantly and began to help him; and in sorting out the toys in her new bedroom and arranging her things just how she liked them she almost forgot about her adventure in the woods.

It had gone dark by the time her room was sorted, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to explore the forest until the next day. This was slightly disappointing, but her excitement about sleeping in a new house meant that it could wait.

She curled up in her duvet, whose familiar smell clashed a little with the new aroma that surrounded her bedroom. Her head fell back on the pillow and her eyes closed; she was just on the brink of falling asleep when she heard a strange noise.

It sounded like something flapping – like a bird's wings. A slight draught seemed to reach her from somewhere nearby. Cautiously she opened her eyes and glanced around the room; seeing nothing she reached over and turned on her bedside lamp.

It took more than a moment for her to locate the source of the noise, but then, astonished, she saw it. Her thought about bird wings hadn't been far wrong. The noise was indeed the flapping of wings – but they didn't belong to a bird.

They belonged to the new chair.

On each of its legs the chair sported a thick and feathery bright scarlet wing, and all were clattering noisily and keenly as if eager to be off. Melissa stared. Was she already asleep and dreaming? No – she didn't remember falling asleep. She pinched herself. Definitely awake.

Quietly she got out of bed and went over to the chair, which, she saw, had now managed to propel itself a few centimetres off the ground with its wings. She had never seen anything quite so strange; she nearly laughed aloud, but didn't want her parents to hear that she wasn't asleep yet.

Then, before she could react, the chair had lifted itself into the air and headed for the window, which was closed. It tapped against the window in a strange sort of indignation, seeming almost alive.

'Ssh! Ssh!' Melissa found herself hissing to the chair as its taps became louder and more insistent. She ran to the window and, as silently as possible, reached up to open it. She managed to open the window wide enough for the chair, which hesitated a moment before flying off into the night sky.

Hardly able to believe what she had just seen, Melissa watched as the chair headed off into the distance and out of sight; then, leaving the window open just in case it decided to come back, she went back to bed and curled up once again, still not entirely sure if this was all a dream.