‘Yes – what?’ huffed Virgo impatiently. She had been trying to escape for two days now. Thoughts of eternal imprisonment, Thanatos destroying the Earth with the Chaos Stones and what Elliot might get up to without her were of course her main motives. But the prospect of one more second cooped up with the Zodiac Councillors was rapidly working its way up the list.

‘It’s just,’ whimpered Aquarius the water bearer, ‘that this isn’t strictly Council protocol . . .’

‘What do you mean, protocol?’ seethed Virgo. ‘Do you want to get out of here or not?’

The Councillors looked at each other again.

‘Well,’ said Taurus the bull, ‘given that I am still officially leader of this organization, might I suggest we put it to a vote?’

‘Yes, yes, good idea,’ muttered his colleagues. Virgo stood dumbstruck.

‘Seriously?!’ Virgo cried. ‘You want to vote on whether or not we escape from an eternal prison?!’

‘Sounds excellent,’ said Pisces the fish. ‘I vote in favour of a vote.’

‘Hear, hear,’ roared Leo the lion. ‘I second the vote in favour of a vote.’

‘And I third the vote he seconds . . . for . . . a vote . . . vote,’ said Sagittarius unsurely.

Virgo unleashed her newly perfected death stare on the group. It was proving a most useful accessory.

‘All those in favour of escaping from this damp, isolated hellhole, please raise your hands, pincers, hooves or any other bodily appendages in agreement,’ said Taurus.

Eleven upper-body parts shot into the air. Virgo ignored the fact that Castor, one of the Gemini twins, had childishly elected to stick up his rear end.

‘Right then,’ she sighed. ‘Let’s get on with it.’

‘Wait a moment,’ said Taurus. ‘We haven’t checked if there are any votes against.’

Virgo counted the Councillors again. Everyone had already voted.

‘But it’s unanimous,’ she said through clenched teeth, trying to control the curiously hot feeling rising up through her chest. ‘This is ridiculous.’

‘This is democracy!’ bellowed Pisces. ‘All those against.’

There was utter stillness in the cell.

‘Please count the votes,’ said Taurus to Pisces.

Virgo watched, slack-jawed, as Pisces counted nothing whatsoever. Had her colleagues always been this . . . sub-optimal?

‘I have checked and had the result independently verified,’ said Pisces. ‘The decision is unanimously carried to attempt to escape this damp, isolated hellhole.’

‘Thank you,’ said Virgo. ‘Now if you’d all just—’

‘Wait a moment,’ said Taurus. ‘Now we have to wait.’

Virgo looked around the dark prison cell.

‘For what?’ she asked.

‘For a thirty-day consultation period,’ Taurus began.

‘OH, SNORDLESNOT!’ yelled Virgo, to the horrified gasps of the other inmates. ‘Right – enough. We are getting out of here – we have to stop Thanatos—’

‘We deny all knowledge of that,’ Scorpio the scorpion chipped in.

Virgo turned to face the Councillor.