She sprang bolt upright on the sofa, her heart thudding so loud it almost drowned out the sound of the waterfall. And then she saw it, with its wings stretched to their widest expanse, every cream feather dappled with brown, lit from behind by the moon, like an X-ray image. As it glided towards her beyond the glass, the owl lifted its heart-shaped face upward to reveal Dawn’s delicate features and her iridescent moon pallor . . . then it SMASHED itself into the glass, with the speed and violence of gunshot. For a second it seemed that it hung there, stunned; then it dropped away. Kite stared down through the gloom as the feathered form spiralled out of control towards the gully. Perhaps the screech had been hers after all, because Seth came hurtling down the stairs, shouting at the top of his voice. ‘What on earth’s wrong?’ Kite folded her legs under herself and hugged her knees tight in a fetal position, rocking backwards and forward.
