‘You do, do you?’ said Virgo. ‘You deny all knowledge of the Daemon of Death, who came up to Elysium two days ago, arrested us all with his Titans and threw us down here? In person? Face to face? That Daemon?’

Scorpio looked fruitlessly at his colleagues for help.

‘Yes, that one,’ he said quietly. ‘Not that I have any knowledge of . . .’

‘Just. Be. Quiet,’ hissed Virgo menacingly. ‘Now, here’s what we’re going to do. On my count, we are all going to run against the wall. This cell has been here for millennia, it must have a structural weak spot. This is the most optimal way of finding it.’

‘Right,’ said Taurus officiously, ‘all those in favour—’

‘No!’ said Virgo firmly. ‘No more votes. It’s time for action. Everyone find a piece of wall.’

The Councillors looked around the small, square cell.

‘Who goes where?’ asked Libra. ‘I can draw a flow chart if that would help?’

The other Council members nodded enthusiastically, but Virgo started shoving them towards the cell walls. Within a few moments, they were all in place.

‘OK,’ said Virgo. ‘On my count, we are all going to run at the wall in front of us and find the weak spot. We can then focus our efforts on that weakness in order to break through the wall. Are you ready?’

A chorus of unenthused grunts answered her question.

‘So, in one . . . two . . . three . . . GO!’

As one, the Councillors ran backwards from their starting positions in order to take a run-up at the wall. And, as one, they all ran into one another in the middle of the cell, ending up on the floor in a heap of scowls, scales and ‘Snordlesnots’.

Virgo sank to the ground, pulling her long brown hair in exasperation.

‘This is hopeless,’ she wailed. ‘We’re going to be stuck in here for ever.’

‘Actually,’ said Capricorn the goat, putting a comforting hoof on her shoulder. ‘That’s just not true.’

‘It isn’t?’ said Virgo, jumping to her feet. ‘Then tell me the plan, how do we get out of here?’

‘We don’t,’ said Capricorn gently. ‘We’ll be here until the end of time.’

‘So what’s your point?’

‘You’re no longer immortal,’ smiled Capricorn. ‘So you won’t be here for ever. No, no, no – you’ll just be here long enough to die a painfully slow death from starvation.’

‘That’s not true!’ shouted one Gemini twin.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ Virgo sighed.

‘Dehydration will get her first,’ the other Gemini twin piped up. ‘Mortals can live ten days without food, but only three without water. I read that in a Christmas cracker.’

‘Thanks,’ said Virgo, slumping down to the floor once more.

‘You know what we really need,’ started Aries the golden ram, ‘is a great big—’

‘Plop!’

‘Really, child – your mortal toilet habits are no-one’s business but yours—’ Aries continued.