“If we could see them,” I murmured.

The Armourer scowled. “I don’t understand it. The grounds are jam-packed with all kinds of surveillance. A mole couldn’t fart without us knowing all about it. Ah, Howard! Good to see you.”

“Good?” he snapped, slamming to a halt right in front of us. “What’s bloody good about it? I blame you for this, Edwin.”

“Somehow, I had a feeling you might,” I said. “Hello, Howard.”

He sniffed loudly. He was large and blocky, with a red face and a prematurely receding hairline. His hands were clenched into frustrated fists at his sides.

“Hall security has been an utter shambles, ever since you and your girlfriend walked straight through all our best defences,” he said bitterly. “They’re very sensitive. You upset them. Took us weeks to get them calmed down and operating properly again, and now this! Are those more of your friends out there?”

“I very much doubt it,” I said. “And Howard, keep it down to a roar when you speak to me, there’s a good chap. Or I will have Molly turn you into something small and wet and squishy, which I shall then step on.”

“What am I?” said Molly. “Your attack dog?”

“You know you love it,” I said.

“Grrr,” said Molly.

I looked back at Howard. “Let us all keep very calm and professional about this, while we figure out what the hell’s going on.”

Howard sniffed loudly again. “Yes. Well . . . We’re doing the best with the equipment available to us. You try running a twenty-first-century defence system on a nineteenth-century budget. I told the Matriarch to her face; you get what you pay for.”

I began to like him a little better. “I’ll bet that went down well,” I said.

He smiled slightly for the first time. “I was escorted out of the War Room so fast my feet didn’t even touch the ground. All right, everybody, let’s try the sensors again. Boost the power and plug in all the options; see if we can scare up a useful image or two for our illustrious guests. As long as you understand this is all your fault, Edwin. Whatever happens.”

“Story of my life,” I said.