We didn’t stop there, either. Holding the sword in front of me, I ran across the room and went through the next wall and into a coin-operated launderette. Water sprayed everywhere as the sword sliced easily through the washing machines. We heard an explosion from the Dragonstation as the police blew the door down; but by that time we had cut our way out of the launderette and were into the house beyond that. Luckily this one was empty and the next wall brought us out into the daylight at the end of the terrace. Exhorbitus was too unwieldy to allow me to run far, so I hid it beneath some rubbish in an empty building site and ran into the network of small alleyways in the Old Town behind the cathedral. We heard yells behind us, and I stopped. We couldn’t run for ever, my Volkswagen was in the other direction and the Dragonlands and the safety of the force-field almost twenty miles away. I turned to the Quarkbeast and told him to run off and hide. He looked all doleful and made signs that his place was by me so I had to be cross, and he eventually lolloped off. I waited until Sir Matt and his officers could see me from the far end of the street, then darted off in the opposite direction. I ran through the narrow streets with Grifflon and the officers barely a hundred yards away. I turned left, then right, then found myself outside Zambini Towers. I was out of breath, luck and ideas, and before I knew what I was doing I had darted inside and thrown the bolt.

I had hoped that Wizard Moobin might have returned and would help me, but I knew as soon as I entered that the old building was empty. For the first time ever I noticed an eerie silence within the echoing corridors of the old hotel. There was no hum, no static, no strangeness – nothing. All the sorcerers were absent, even the mad ones on the eleventh floor.

I dashed through the open doors of the Palm Court, looking for a place to hide, but my heart fell as I entered. Sitting next to the fountain was Lady Mawgon. She was sitting bolt upright with her hands on her lap. She was dressed in blacker than usual crinolines, and wore gloves and a veil. She looked even more funereal than normal, and had been waiting for me. It would have been a child’s spell to make me decide to run left when I entered the lobby.

‘Good afternoon, Lady Mawgon.’

‘I’ve been waiting for you, Jennifer.’

‘Listen,’ I said, ‘I know we’ve not been getting on very well at present, but there’s a Big Magic going on tomorrow at noon, and I’ve got to be there.’