Strange guarded the Sanctity and the other rooms, its other-dimensional shields protecting the family from any outside attack. The family would be safe there, while I investigated whatever it was that dared attack us. Strange was also responsible for powering all our science- and magic-based defences, and it worried me how quickly we’d become dependent on this new replacement for the destroyed Heart. I didn’t free us from one other-dimensional master just to hand us over to another. No matter how seemingly benevolent. Just one more thing for me to worry about . . .

Strange had said he could do even more for us, but that would mean bringing more of his substance through into this dimension, and even he had to admit he had no idea exactly what effect so much strange matter might have on the physical laws of our reality. Strange matter wasn’t natural here, and our world didn’t like having it around. Besides, Strange was powerful enough as he was. Trust has always been a difficult thing for me, even before I found out what the Heart really was. So, on behalf of the family, I politely declined Strange’s offer.

Which was why it was now up to me to defend the whole damned family from attack.

The Droods came pouring through the corridors towards the Sanctity, their faces pale and strained. The alarm bells were maddeningly loud, but the Sarjeant-at-Arms still made himself heard over the din, haranguing and bullying the crowds into some kind of order as they filed quickly into the Sanctity. He didn’t need to use much of his trademarked brutality; most of the family were glad to hear an authoritative voice telling them what to do. But then, that’s always been their problem. The Sarjeant scowled at the nervous faces streaming past him and seemed actually ashamed to see the family reduced to such a state. He didn’t look at me, but then, he didn’t have to. I already knew who he blamed.

“I’m going to the War Room,” said Penny, shouting to be heard over the general din. “Someone needs to keep an eye on the big picture. Always the chance this attack was designed to distract us from something really big happening somewhere else.”

“Right!” I said. “Go! Report back when you get a chance.”

But she was already off and running, forcing her way through the tide of approaching Droods by sheer assurance. I’d done well in choosing her. I looked around for Jacob, but he’d disappeared. I turned to the Sarjeant.

“You stay here and keep a lid on things. Molly, Uncle Jack, we need to get to the Ops Room. Find out who or what we’re up against, before we have to go out and face them. Sarjeant, if they should get past us, and get in here . . . improvise.”