I peeped cautiously out of the window. The street had been blocked off and three police cars were parked outside. There were about a dozen officers, and two of them were dressed in heavy armour. They had between them a riveted titanium box in which to imprison the Quarkbeast. A half-inch of titanium was about the only metal he couldn’t chew through. Standing on one side but still looking very much in charge of the operation was Sir Matt Grifflon.

‘Please, Jennifer,’ said the officer, ‘open the door.’

‘Wait a minute,’ I said, running to the rear window and looking out. There were police out there, too. I was trapped.

‘This conversation is going round in circles, Miss Strange,’ said the officer as I returned to the front door. ‘Either you surrender the Quarkbeast or we come in and take it and arrest you for non-compliance with a royal decree. If the Quarkbeast so much as looks at us in a funny way, we will have no choice but to use lethal force. The choice is yours. I’ll give you a minute to decide.’

I looked down at the Quarkbeast.

‘It’s fourteen against two, chum. What do you say?’

‘Quark.’

‘I thought you’d say that. But I’m not risking your life for mine. Let’s find another way out.’

I ran to the Rolls-Royce and unclipped Exhorbitus. As the Quarkbeast watched me with growing interest, I attacked . . . the wall. The sword cut deep into the brickwork, slicing the masonry as though it were wet paper. Three quick slashes and we were through to the property next door.

‘Sorry!’ I said to the surprised-looking resident who had been watching The Snodd v. Brecon War Show Live when his wall came down and a Dragonslayer and her Quarkbeast jumped through.