“Do you think we’ll fit through this window? I feel pretty huge,” said Edwin.

“Give it a go!” said Prue.

He put his forepaws on the ledge and climbed out on to the platform. The others hurried to watch as Edwin stood on the platform edge. Falling from this distance would certainly break bones and probably result in lost life. The others watched soundlessly. Edwin tipped forwards. As he dropped, he spread his enormous wings and began gliding down, then his body tumbled head over feet. They all cried out.

“Wings, Ed!” Prue shrieked.

He managed to beat them in huge swathes of power, righting himself and landing clumsily on to the path below.

“Spend a few minutes practising!” Prue called.

She watched him beat his wings and take off again. He flew to the trees, went around in a circle then landed back on the platform.

“Ready?” Edwin asked.

“Always,” said Prue, although she felt sick with both the nerves of what her parents could be facing at that moment, and the fact she was about to trust a newborn flying lion machine with her own life. She edged herself out of the window on to the platform.

“Be careful,” Master White called.

“You can do it!” said Agapantha.

Prue climbed up on to Edwin’s back and held tight to his mane. The synthetic hair was warm, like fur gloves around her hands, his body wide and sturdy. Edwin took a couple of quick steps, flapped his wings, and they began rising up and up above the huge lawn.

“Good job, Ed. Now, head northwards!”

Edwin banked left a bit too sharply, and Prue tensed and yelped.

“Sorry! I’m still getting used to these,” Edwin called.

“If you could learn quickly, it would be much appreciated!” Prue cried.

The cold evening air rushed over Prue as everything below became smaller. She looked to her left at the great factorium of the Guild, the illuminated windows now tiny golden lights. What was still left of the crowd below pointed and called out. The burnished copper moon shone high above the forest, tinging the snow-covered grounds with amber. As her gaze moved across the lawn, her breath caught, remembering the stag-men. They were still in neat fallen lines below, and one of them had been Francis.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, doing her best to put a wall up to all the emotions she’d felt when she’d pushed the button.

As they rose higher, Medlock was in full view, even more magnificent at night than the day she’d viewed it from the chimney top. Snow-covered domes and spires looked like a man-made mountain range against the night. The lights appeared as though a giant hand had scattered diamonds across the city.

“Wow, look at that!” she called.