The door to Barnaby`s house opened onto a grand sweep of the city, rows of dried-out blocky terraces strewn between the hills. In the blaze of the sun the orange clay roofs looked just like the scales of a dragon.

　　Elizabeth`s nose began to twitch in the salty air as they set themselves to leave.

　　"Just let me do all the talking", Barnaby said, as they hopped aboard a streetcar.

　　It was easy to see why Luella called them clatterbuckets`. The pearl white tram was just a tin can on wheels, and so battered was it with dents and rust that it looked ready to fall apart on the spot. The whole place seemed to be full of the things, hurtling up and down the streets, honking like angry geese.

　　"Hold on tight, close your eyes, and try not to scream too loud", Luella advised, pulling down her top hat and wrapping her arms around a grab pole.

　　Elizabeth had just enough time to copy her before the tram took off like a rocket, turning the world into a stomach-churning blur.

　　The blaring of the horns was still reverberating in her ears when Luella shouted: "NOW!"

　　There was no time to think. Which was a very good job because Elizabeth would almost certainly have thought: Actually, since I prefer my legs not to be broken, I think I`ll give this part a miss . . .

　　But instead of thinking this she found herself following Luella`s lead, springing from the boarding deck, landing in a heap at the edge of a wide and bustling square.

　　"They don`t really do stopping", Luella explained, pulling Elizabeth back onto her feet.

　　"So I see", observed Elizabeth, brushing down the sides of her dress and sorting out her hair as the tram whipped around them and shot off in the other direction.

　　Beyond the rows of stately buildings was another lump of a hill, the crown of it a rising dome that resembled an ancient temple.

　　"And there it is", announced Barnaby, sounding as though someone had stolen his voice. "The Great White Hall".

　　The route to the top was a fat wooden barrel being towed by a river of chain. A wrinkly old prune with a knee-length beard hobbled across to meet them. The man was wearing a long white robe and lugged a thick leathery book that could easily have been heavier than he was. "Who approaches?" he sighed, in a tired and miserable way.

　　"Doctor Barnaby Thimblewick", announced Barnaby, decisively.

　　"Ah yes - you`re late".

　　The man gave Barnaby a withering glare and led the group inside, fussing past the guards, the stick-of-chalk columns and the extra thick old wooden doors.

　　The chamber on the other side was the kind of place to make ordinary people feel extraordinarily small. That, at least, was how it seemed to Elizabeth as her eyes bounced off the marble tiles, rolled up the walls and became entangled in the glassy orbs floating far above her head. The eerie tinge of their light hovered somewhere between orange and corn-yellow, although Elizabeth sensed that this could change at any time.

　　"Moodlight", Luella whispered. "The Council uses it to make people feel even more nervous".

　　The farthest wall was a blue and white tapestry of the sun and a crescent moon. Before it, on a platform, stood a trio of high-backed chairs. The serious-looking men in them wore long black cloaks, filling Elizabeth`s head with worrisome thoughts of cartoon villains and judges.

　　"Who`s the one with the eyebrows?" she asked as they reached the centre of the chamber.

　　"That`s Baron Bagley", Luella replied. "And the one on the right is Lord Vilchford".

　　Baron Bagley was a bouncy castle in a cloud-grey, fuzzwurzling, dandy-puff of hair. Arranged before him, on a plinth, was a silver platter with a fine selection of meats. He grabbed hold of a chicken leg and began to devour it ravenously.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

　　His opposite number, Lord Vilchford, sat with an aloof expression on his wrinkle-free, weaselly face.

　　But Elizabeth`s eyes were pulled most of all towards the man in the centre. His chair was larger and more ornately carved than the others. He had a severe appearance, with lamb chop sideburns and shoe polish hair pulled back tightly over his scalp.

　　"And that`s Arraflax", scowled Luella, tracing the line of Elizabeth`s stare.

　　The man was studying Barnaby as though he was a bird looking down on a worm. "Nice to see you at last", he said, not at all sincerely.

　　The light in the Hall seemed to dim of its own accord.

　　"Sorry we`re late", Barnaby mumbled, with a weak embarrassed smile.

　　"Do you have any idea why you`re here?"

　　"Er . . . "

　　"There`s been a development. Our spies inform us that a unit of Blackcoats have uncovered something rather interesting on a sweep of the Northern Ridge. An Omnaria` I believe you call it".

　　Elizabeth`s heart hit the floor with a crumpling thud.

　　"So as I`m sure you can imagine, I`m very keen to know why you saw fit to carry on with your experiments after you had been strictly forbidden from doing so by this very Council not two short months ago".

　　"Ah, yes . . . well . . . "

　　Lord Vilchford teetered on the edge of his seat, making triangular peaks from his eyebrows. "D-d-don`t you have anything to s-s-say for yourself?" he inquired, in a high-pitched voice. "Sir Arraflax a-a-asked you a question".

　　Arraflax glowered at Barnaby like he was trying to bore holes in his skull. "Do you?"

　　"Um . . . "

　　"Well?"

　　The Moodlight turned the colour of bruises as Barnaby wilted like a sunflower in the rain.

　　But just when Elizabeth thought he might stare at his feet forever, Barnaby raised his eyes and stuck out his chin to match his challenger`s glare. "Yes I do", he said, with a touch of flashing steel. "We need to get the Omnaria back!"

　　"And why would we want to do that?"

　　"Because it works - look". Barnaby pointed at Elizabeth. "The Omnaria brought us this girl".

　　Lord Vilchford fixed Elizabeth with a waxy leer that sent goosebumps running all over her skin.

　　Elizabeth`s eyes flittered about the Hall. She hadn`t a clue if it was considered rude to look back or whether she should divert her gaze or do something else altogether (even though she had no idea what that might possibly be). So as blandly as she could, she said: "My name`s Elizabeth Harding sir".

　　"Elizabeth?" Arraflax sniffed.

　　"Yes sir. I live with my mum in Sky View flats. It`s in Hexley-on-Heath".

　　"Never heard of it".

　　Lord Vilchford made his fingers into a steeple. "How d-did you get here? And be sure to t-tell us the truth. This is a v-v-very important matter".

　　Elizabeth heard the words tumble from her mouth as if she was listening to someone else say them, which only made the explanation sound even more barmy than it was. "I was in my bedroom, sir. I was asleep, and there were these monsters. They look like they`re made out of smoke and I see them in my dreams. And then there was a strange light under my bed and I sort of fell through some kind of hole. And then I was in a forest. That`s where I met everyone. They took me to the North Star, and then . . . "

　　Worried that she might have said too much, Elizabeth held her breath.

　　"And then what?" Lord Vilchford commanded.

　　"And then we were attacked. By Blackcoats", said Barnaby.

　　"But we escaped", added Elizabeth. "Barnaby took me to his house . . . and then we came here".

　　"Barnaby`s house eh?" sneered Arraflax. "You have had a wretched time of it".

　　Lord Vilchford grew restless in his seat.

　　And Elizabeth jumped in fright as, completely unannounced, he turned into a monstrous bat, flew twice around the Hall and landed on Baron Bagley`s shoulder, from where he proceeded to stare at her with hideous blackcurrant eyes.

　　She blinked, partly in amazement. And found that Lord Vilchford had somehow returned to his seat.

　　Everybody in the Hall carried on as if nothing at all had happened.

　　"Perhaps we sh-shouldn`t be too hasty", said the Bat-Lord, in a loud half-whisper. "If the prophecy is to be believed then m-m-mayhaps this girl - "

　　"Utter nonsense!" flashed Arraflax. "One does not simply go walking from one world to another, and you would all do well not to listen to old myths and tavern-tales".

　　"But the Omnaria does work", implored Barnaby, becoming visibly more agitated. "And that gives us a chance to put an end to the Dominion. If we can get it back then - "

　　"BARNABY THIMBLEWICK!" Arraflax bellowed, rising from his seat and making everyone leap in surprise. "Do you seriously expect the Wyse Council to believe any of this claptrap? If that box of yours works half as well as you say it does then why hasn`t the Dominion used it already? Why isn`t there an army of Blackcoats here, right now?"

　　Barnaby blustered for an answer as the centre of the Hall became a smoggy crimson blur. "Because it made the rift in the wrong place . . . I think it might have blown a spaggit . . . Look, all I know is that we have to get it back!"

　　"Get it back? Get it back?" Arraflax was positively shaking with fury. "Our spies tell us that the Omnaria has been taken to the Darkstone Tower. How do you suppose that we get it back` from there?"

　　Elizabeth calculated, from the look on Barnaby`s face, that something extremely bad had just happened.

　　"But . . . we have to", he spluttered. "The Omnaria is the only way of getting Elizabeth home".

　　"That is of no concern to me".

　　"But - "

　　Arraflax snarled and pounded his fists and thrashed the air by his sides. "This Council instructed you to cease all work on your damnable machines. And it`s high time that you were made to realise the consequences of your actions. I will not risk any more Free Guards for your selfishness and stupidity".

　　He glowered at Barnaby with a regally poisonous, self-important air. "Men - take these prisoners to the cells".