I waited until the evening and then drove up to the Dragonlands. I left my car in one of the improvised car parks, then walked past the droning generators that were running the large floodlights that illuminated the edge of the Dragonlands. The landships had been brought to the front and stood silent against the night sky, giant tracked machines of iron and steel that could plough their way through a town and ford the widest river without so much as pausing, each one capable of carrying two hundred soldiers and enough firepower to attack even the most robustly held defences. But despite appearances, they weren’t invincible. Many lives had been lost in these towers of iron during the disastrous campaign that became known as the Fourth Troll War.

It had simply been one more campaign against the Trolls in order to push them back into the far north. For this, the Ununited Kingdoms had put aside their differences and assembled eighty-seven landships, and sent them to ‘soften up’ the Trolls before a planned invasion by infantry the following week. The landships had breached the first Troll wall at Stirling and arrived at the second Troll wall eighteen hours later. The last radio contact was shortly after they had opened the Troll Gates, and then – nothing. The generals ordered the infantry to advance rapidly to the front to ‘assist where possible’, and not one of them was ever seen again.

The final toll of those ‘lost or eaten in action’ was close to a quarter of a million men and women. The invasion was called off, the first Troll wall rebuilt, and plans for the invasion of the Trolls’ territory postponed.

I threaded my way through the crowds who were all ready and waiting in case the Dragon died early and the force-field fell. They were all holding stakes, mallets and lengths of string. All that was required was to enclose a section of land and peg a claim form to the grass with your name and signature. It was part of the Dragonpact. I had to push as I neared the boundary; I was sworn at several times. I eventually popped out in the fifty feet or so of empty space between the crowds and the marker stones. I looked to left and right; the area was being patrolled by members of the elite Imperial Guard.

‘Jennifer!’ hissed a voice. I turned to see Wizard Moobin, who was standing with Brother Stamford next to the massive tracks of a landship.

‘Hello, Wizard Moobin,’ I said, glad to see a friendly face. ‘Don’t tell the crowds who I am, there’ll be a riot.’

‘Don’t worry. Look at this.’

He showed me the Shandarmeter. The needle was almost off the scale.

‘More magic?’

‘And how. Every hour that passes the meter jumps another five hundred Shandars.’

‘Where is it coming from?’

‘Here, there, everywhere. I don’t know.’

I had a thought.