When darkness fell, they tried the keys in the sitting-room door. One of them worked. So they prepared themselves and waited a little longer. When they heard the clock strike twelve, Lex snuck out of the room to see if the second key would get them out of the house.

Xandra waited, sitting on top of the food trolley. She felt ridiculous. But it made sense. This makeshift transport would be a lot quieter than the clanking, hissing ambulator.

Lex had removed the top section of the trolley and replaced it with a chair, tied into place using a bedsheet. Xandra thought he’d looked quite proud of his construction, and she was proud of him too. He’d even lubricated the wheels with some leftover sauce from the vegetables, to make sure they didn’t squeak. He’d proved himself to be quite resourceful.

Lex returned, disappointment on his face. ‘No luck,’ he explained. ‘The key doesn’t let us out of the house.’

Xandra sighed. ‘Well at least we can explore.’

Lex wheeled Xandra out into the corridor. Dim gas lamps, set at intervals along the wall, threw little pools of light into the gloomy shadows.

Quietly, they moved up the corridor, Lex opening doors and looking into rooms. They were all bedrooms and sitting rooms.

‘Try the other way,’ whispered Xandra.

They went back down the corridor, past their own room, to the corridor on the other side of the stairs. Again, Lex checked the rooms – a couple were empty, others were storerooms full of boxes. At the end of the corridor was a locked door. And their second key unlocked it.

There were all sorts of things in this room. Bookshelves, models of strange hybrid animals arranged on a display shelf with carefully handwritten labels: Hippogriff, Griffin, Jackalope, Wolpertinger.

‘Weird,’ said Xandra, as Lex pushed her and the trolley further into the room.

A central glass display case was filled with monarchy memorabilia – a souvenir program from Queen Victoria’s coronation; a collection of porcelain dolls of Queen Victoria, Prince Albert and their lion ancestors; and an odd assortment of tacky merchandise, from a tea cosy with the royal coat of arms to a Queen Victoria toilet roll holder, paper spewing forth from her roaring mouth.

‘Seems like Lord Edwin is a bit obsessed with the Queen,’ whispered Xandra.

‘Yeah.’ Lex stifled a giggle. ‘Just a bit.’

Down the far end of the room something caught Xandra’s eye. ‘What’s over there?’

Lex pushed her forward.

Cages! Empty cages of all sizes, from those only just big enough for a bird or mouse, to ones that could easily fit a human being.

Xandra felt uneasy. Why would Lord Edwin have a bunch of empty cages locked away? What, or who, were they for?

‘I see you’ve discovered my private collection.’

Lex whirled around and Xandra looked over her shoulder. Lord Edwin stood in the doorway, his bulk blocking any chance of escape.

‘I don’t care about your Queen Victoria collection,’ said Xandra, heart thundering in her chest. ‘What are the cages for?’

Lord Edwin held out a paw. ‘I’ll take those keys.’

Lex handed them over reluctantly.

‘I have always lived in hope of obtaining a live mythical creature to present as a pet to Her Majesty,’ said Lord Edwin. ‘I believe in being prepared – hence the cages. A variety of sizes for a variety of possible pets. What I had not counted on was my mythical creatures having a degree of intelligence. Given the circumstances, I decided locked rooms were preferable to cages.’

Xandra felt anger and fear competing inside her. She was nobody’s pet.

The bear glared. ‘But I could always change my mind. If the rooms I have furnished you with are not to your liking, if you feel the need to leave them … I can have you moved to one of the cages.’ He paused, meeting Xandra’s wide-eyed gaze. ‘Now, return to your rooms and stay there until you are summoned.’