‘Yep, Holly,’ answered the centaur. ‘Just bringing you up on the main screen.’

‘What do you make of these shapes? Moving grey? I’ve never seen anything like it.’

‘Me neither.’ There followed a brief silence, punctuated by the clicking of a keyboard. ‘Two possible explanations. One, equipment malfunction. These could be phantom images from another system. Like interference on a radio.’

‘The other explanation?’

‘It’s so ludicrous that I hardly like to mention it.’

‘Yeah, well do me a favour, Foaly, mention it.’

‘Well, ridiculous as it sounds, someone may have found a way to beat my system.’

Holly paled. If Foaly was even admitting the possibility, then it was almost definitely true. She cut the centaur off, switching her attention back to

Private Verbil. ‘Chix! Get out of there. Pull up! Pull up!’

The sprite was far too busy trying to impress his pretty captain to realize the seriousness of his situation. ‘Relax, Holly. I’m a sprite. Nobody can hit a sprite.’

That was when a projectile erupted through a chute window, blowing a fist-sized hole in Verbil’s wing.

Holly tucked a Neutrino 2000 into its holster, issuing commands through her helmet’s corn-set. ‘Code Fourteen, repeat Code Fourteen. Fairy down.

Fairy down. We are under fire. E37. Send warlock medics and back-up.’

Holly dropped through the hatch, rappelling to the tunnel floor. She ducked behind a statue of Frond, the first elfin king. Chix was lying on a mound of rubble across the avenue. It didn’t look good. The side of his helmet had been bashed in by the jagged remains of a low wall, rendering his corn-system completely useless.

She needed to reach him soon or he was a goner. Sprites only had limited healing powers. They could magic away a wart, but gaping wounds were beyond them.