‘And,’ the Ipsissimus added, ‘just in case you think that we give anyone access to the Manuscripts and the opportunity to abuse their power, all Order witches are only allowed to view the Manuscripts for short periods of time. It would take days to fully understand and utilise the higher Level magic.’

‘Which is why,’ I pointed out, ‘they were probably stolen in the first place. So the thief could study them at leisure and implement the spells without fear of being stopped before they finished.’

Everyone fell silent as we absorbed this. Frankly, it was all becoming a little too worrisome for me. ‘Ipsissimus,’ I began, ‘do you happen to have any ossombe root?’

Winter stiffened. The Ipsissimus frowned. ‘It’s not an ingredient I’m familiar with,’ he admitted. ‘Why? Will it stop our would-be megalomaniac?’

‘No,’ I said cheerfully. ‘But it’ll enable me to get as far away from here as possible.’

If anything, he was now even more confused.

‘That’s enough, Ms Wilde,’ Winter barked.

So we were back to Ms Wilde again? Before I could say anything, the Ipsissimus regained control. ‘I hope, Adeptus Winter,’ he said, ‘that you have a plan for tracking down this witch, whoever he or she may be.’

‘Assuming there’s only one,’ Winter growled. ‘I have a few ideas.’

‘You have carte blanche but time is of the essence. It’s imperative that you find them before they can absorb all of the magic they are after. If that happens, we will be helpless.’

I met Winter’s eyes. It was obvious where to begin; we both knew that Diall was mixed up in this somehow. We could probably have him under lock and key in the next hour – if eager Mr Smythe hadn’t already brought him in. It was possible – just – that this entire catastrophe could be solved by teatime.

There was a knock on the door. ‘I said I wasn’t to be disturbed!’ the Ipsissimus roared. I jumped. Had he partaken of a little of Volume 9’s magic himself?

A woman put her head round the door. ‘I apologise, Ipsissimus,’ she said. She didn’t look in the slightest bit sorry. I already liked her. ‘But there’s a witch here to see Adeptus Exemptus Winter. A Practicus Smythe. He says it’s an emergency and he won’t take no for an answer.’

Winter’s face shuttered. The Ipsissimus frowned and gestured to the woman to let him in. A moment later, a bespectacled witch shuffled in. He was wearing a red robe and looked as skinny and pale as most Order witches. There was also a distinct aura of panic about him. I examined him more closely. There were a few odd stains around the cuffs of his robe. It was difficult to tell for sure given the robe’s colour but I had a horrible feeling I knew what they were.

Smythe bowed several times then shuffled his feet and twitched. ‘I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have bothered you if it weren’t important. I was told to bring in Adeptus Diall for questioning.’ He was doing everything he could to distance himself from responsibility. It was a tactic I knew well.