It took teams of LEP warlocks to slow down time for a few hours; the magic required to open a door to the tunnel was stupendous. It would be easier to shoot down the moon. Opal tapped this into her notepad. Reminder. Shoot down the moon? Viable?

There is always a use for everything, Victor had told him. Even pain.

I'm on my feet, pacing around the room, punching a fist into my palm, which I stop doing when I realise how drama queen it feels.

HOLLY: Are you suggesting I occasionally stray from the rule book? FOALY: No. I'm suggesting you do not own a copy of the rule book, and if you do, you have certainly never opened it.

'Insanity... I like it."

The only other scenario that could explain everything, up to and including your own bizarre apperance, is a convoluted conspiracy theory involving the Russian Mafia and a crack team of plastic surgeons.

But even though there were plenty of teeth in the grin, there was no heart.