“I know what she called you,” Jenan said. “It was ten seconds ago and I was sitting right here. Apologise anyway before she gets any louder.”

Gall stared at him, the confusion giving way to resentment, and then he shrugged. “Fine, whatever. Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t call people that,” Isidora said, her voice shaky with emotion.

“Right.”

“There are real morons out there and to use the word as a derogatory term is insulting to them, not just to me.”

Gall blinked at her. “What?”

“You’ve just got to think before you yell insults at people. Words hurt, Gall.”

Byron sat forward. “So let me get this straight. Calling you a moron, Isidora, is insulting to morons?”

Isidora sighed. “Yes.”

Colleen hugged her friend. “Stop talking now, Izzy.”

Jenan stood up, bringing an end to the conversation. “We’re here because the fact that they grabbed Lilt changes nothing. I got a message last night telling us not to worry. As long as we don’t do anything stupid, we’re safe. We haven’t done anything wrong. We haven’t broken any laws. Not yet.”

“Who sent the message?” Colleen asked.

“You’ll find out in a moment,” said Jenan. “OK, it’s time to move to less salubrious surroundings. Ceremonial masks on.”

The Scholars took out their masks and slipped them on, and Jenan led the way to the back room.

Omen’s feet wouldn’t budge. His body had frozen. This was a bad idea. This was a supremely bad idea.

His hands moved, slipping the golden mask over his head, fixing it in place, and the moment it was secure his legs woke up. He covered the distance in three seconds, joining the group as they squeezed through the doorway into a room with a large glass door that opened out on to a balcony.

Jenan, the tallest of them, shut the door once they were all in. He didn’t glance twice at Omen, and he didn’t do a headcount. There was a table in the middle of the room with chairs all around it. If they sat, Omen’s ruse would be over before it had truly begun.

One of the Scholars went to sit.

“Don’t bother,” said Jenan. “You’ll want to be standing for this.”

“For what?” somebody asked. Sounded like Gall.

Jenan didn’t answer. He just took out his phone and checked the time. “Any moment now,” he said. “Clear a space there.”

There was a little shuffling as everyone crowded into the same side of the small room.

“Somebody close the curtains,” Jenan instructed.

People turned their heads, gold masks revolving, but nobody actually moved. Finally, Omen went to do it, and the Scholars looked away. The curtains were heavy, and when they were closed the room darkened considerably. Omen stayed where he was, at the back.

“What are we waiting for?” Byron asked.