‘Then by the rules of the Dragonpact I’m going to have to see at least two other uncorroborated incidents of Dragonattack before I can even consider this a rogue Dragon.’

Norton rounded on me angrily.

‘It’s pretty clear cut—!’

‘Then you punish him, Norton,’ I responded. ‘I’m going to need to see better evidence than this.’

I left Norton, lifted the ‘do not cross’ tape and was instantly assailed by a wall of journalists.

‘Was this an attack by a Dragon?’ asked a reporter from The Whelk.

‘Unlikely.’

‘How could you know it wasn’t Maltcassion?’

‘I didn’t say it wasn’t.’

‘Is it true that you studied zoology at GCSE level?’

‘It is.’

‘And that you once gave money to the Endangered Buzonji Fund?’

‘Many people do.’

‘And you aim to study Maltcassion?’

‘If I can.’

‘Then you have a vested interest in keeping the Dragon alive?’

‘What are you saying?’ I asked, scarcely able to believe where this questioning was going.

‘We’re wondering whether you are qualified to make an objective decision on Dragondeath. Perhaps in light of your dubious conflict of interests you had best leave Dragonslaying to someone else. We understand Sir Matt Grifflon has just held a press conference in which he stated his eagerness to assume your duties; has he contacted you?’

I didn’t answer and another reporter took a turn as I walked in the direction of the Rolls-Royce.

‘Sophie Trotter of the UKBC,’ announced the reporter. ‘Miss Strange, does the prospect of having to carry out your duty fill you with trepidation?’

‘It won’t come to that.’

‘But if Maltcassion reneges on the Dragonpact, you will act to destroy him?’

‘If he does, I will carry out my duty.’

‘Do you think King Snodd’s declaration of “no confidence” in your abilities will make you reconsider your decision to resign?’

I stopped so fast the pack of journalists nearly walked into the back of me.

‘King Snodd said that?’

‘At Sir Matt Grifflon’s press conference late last night. He called for your resignation and endorsed Sir Matt taking your place. Such an undertaking is allowed under the Dragonslayer’s charter, we take it?’

‘I can transfer my calling . . . but only to a knight,’ I murmured, realising that I was being steadily outmanoeuvred.

‘So will you be resigning?’

‘Listen,’ I replied somewhat testily, ‘I am the last Dragonslayer. I will uphold the rule of law as laid down by the Dragonpact of 1607 to the best of my abilities. I have no plans to do otherwise. Excuse me.’

I climbed aboard the armoured Rolls-Royce. Gordon van Gordon was in the driver’s seat and we pulled away from the mob and headed back to town.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘Sure. I was hoping to be able to study Maltcassion at my leisure; that hope is rapidly fading.’

Gordon nodded in the direction of the truck.

‘What was all that about?’