‘You could do with a drink,’ said the second Dragon. He nodded and a glass of water appeared beside me.

‘How did you do that?’ I asked suddenly.

‘Magic,’ replied the Dragon.

I smiled and sipped at it gratefully.

‘Hmm,’ said the first of the Dragons as he unfurled his wings and looked at them thoughtfully, the same way a baby might examine its own foot and wonder what it was for.

‘Two of you?’ I asked. ‘Two from one? Is that how it works?’

‘Usually,’ replied the second Dragon. It sneezed violently and a small jet of flame leapt across the clearing and ignited a shrub.

‘Whoops,’ he said. ‘I’m going to have to get that under control.’

The two Dragons sniffed around, eager to investigate their new world. Of Maltcassion there was no sign, just a forehead-jewel on top of a pile of grey ash that was being blown by a light wind into the Dragonlands.

‘Shh!’ I said. ‘Listen!’

They both cocked an ear into the breeze and frowned.

‘We don’t hear anything.’

‘That’s exactly it!’ I replied. ‘The guns. They’ve stopped.’

‘Of course,’ countered the Dragon. ‘The Old Magic is unwoven. New Magic has taken its place. The force-field is back up but we may pass freely in both directions. The Dragonlands are still Dragonlands. But I have no manners. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Feldspar Axiom Firebreath IV, and this is Colin.’

Colin the Dragon bowed solemnly and said:

‘We would like to thank you, Miss Strange, for without your fortitude and adherence to duty, dear Maltcassion really would have been the last Dragon.’

I thought for a moment, trying to make sense of the strange course of events. I had lost my temper in a big way; I was confused.

‘I wasn’t chosen for my purity, was I?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ replied Feldspar. ‘But don’t be disappointed. It’s as well that true virtue is rare, for it would have to be balanced by the purest evil. The Dragon Council chose well. I would never have guessed in a million years that you were a Berserker.’

I looked at them both in turn.

‘A Berserker? Me?’

‘Of course. Didn’t you know?’

I had no idea, of course. How could I? Life at the convent had always been sheltered and happy. I had never had cause to lose my temper. Unbeknown to me I was a member of a rare class of fearless warriors – a person who could draw energy from those about them during uncontrollable bouts of rage and channel it with terrifying violence against a foe. If I let it be known I was a Berserker, I would either find myself inducted into the army or confined to a psychiatric hospital, my mind kept numb with marzipan. I shuddered at the prospect.

‘You won’t tell anyone?’