‘I think this is it,’ Sophie said, with barely restrained excitement. She stepped forward and cautiously placed the palm of her hand on the centre of the dragon circle.

With a fizz of blue sparks, the doors slid open with a deep rumble to reveal a row of iron railings, and within them a gate. Sophie pushed it gently. It swung open with a reverberating creak to allow them entrance to an inner sanctum. More incense smouldered in one corner and the torches on the walls burned more dimly, imbuing the chamber with a reverential air. Small stone platforms, each one big enough for a man to lie on, lined both walls, and at the far end a similar platform stood alone, raised up to waist-height. Intricate carvings of serpents lined its base.

‘Oh,’ Sophie said quietly.

‘What is it?’

‘This is where the knights should be sleeping, waiting to be awakened.’ She gestured at the low stone plinths. ‘And that larger one is where the king should be.’

‘I thought you said that was a metaphor.’

‘It is, but look, it’s obvious,’ Sophie replied, confused.

‘Nothing is obvious.’ As Mallory walked towards the stone dais at the end of the chamber, the torches in that area burned more brightly to reveal a space beyond.

‘If there’s no hero waiting to come back when England really needs him, what does that mean?’ Sophie said, oblivious to Mallory. ‘Has something happened to him? Is there no hope?’

‘Look at this.’ Mallory was supporting himself on the raised dais, one hand clutching his injured side. He was looking into the area beyond where a brazier burned with the cool blue flames of the earth energy. In the middle of the flames lay a stone, round and grey with no discernible markings.

‘Is that why we were brought here?’ Sophie said, disappointed. ‘It doesn’t make any sense.’

‘Never judge a book by its cover.