In another era, no-one would have been surprised that Mia’s first boyfriend, Noah, was stolen away by fairies. He was just the type: a musician with wide green eyes, curling hair and a habit of walking the moor alone.

A year and a day after he vanished, Mia was… astonished? Infuriated? to find him waiting on a granite clapper bridge where they used to sit and talk.

“Mia! Thank God!

“I thought you were dead.” she said accusingly, “I cried for months.”

“No. I was abducted!”

“But you’ve escaped, right?”

“No. If they find out I’ve been talking to you, I’ll be in trouble.”

“What? Is this a modern day slavery thing? Are you OK? Do you need help?”

“Woah! One thing at a time. Yeah, I guess it is slavery. They want me to play guitar and sing for them all the time. I’m not hurt but but I can’t get away from them and I need your help. Ever seven years, Faerie pays a tax of souls to hell. They don’t want to use their own people, so I’m first in line to be handed over. You have to help me. Please.”

“OK. Who do I call?”

“There’s nobody you can call. You have to do this yourself, Mia. Are you up to it?”

“What’s involved?”

“Come at midnight to the broken stone cross on Hammeldown. Bring cold iron with you. Call my name and when I appear, take hold of me with both hands and don’t let go. If you can hold on to me until dawn, I’ll be free. But they’ll try to make you release me.”

“Can they hurt me?”

“Not physically. But they’ll mess with your head; make you see things that aren’t there. You’ll have to stay strong and hold me until morning. Can you do that?”

“I can do that.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him, “I’m not going to loose you again.”

She held him when he turned old and ugly in her arms. She held him when he took on the form of the creepy History teacher she had back in year 9. The police helicopter circled overhead and the armed response unit ordered her to her hands on her head and still she held him.

Then the notification tone sounded on her phone.