Jago Moon knew what a lock sounded like. He sometimes thought that he would have made an excellent safe-cracker if he hadn’t chosen the more honest profession of bookseller – and freedom fighter, of course. As soon as Lucy had turned the key and the teeth came into contact with the first tumbler, Moon knew that she was in danger.

He heard the ratcheting within the stonework as the springs released their deadly load. He heard the whisper of the steel spikes as they emerged from their hidden home in the wall. And he heard Lucy’s sad gasp as she recognized her mistake.

The trap snapped out for her.

And Lucy would have been impaled a dozen times if Moon hadn’t clasped her by the shoulders and flung her out of the way.

Lucy went under the water as she was thrown backwards and in her panic she sucked the liquid into her lungs. But Moon’s hands quickly hauled her back above the surface and her body went into a spasm of retching as she brought the dirty water back up again. When she was finished, she leaned her body against Mr. Moon, her head resting on his shoulder, drawing on his inner calm while her own heart pounded wildly.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“I’d snatch you from the jaws of Hell itself, Lucy Lambert,” said Moon with a grin. “Not much of a trap, at the end of the day,” he sniffed. “They really want to get those cogs oiled.”

“Lucy,” said Josiah tenderly from behind his bars. “The thought of London without you watching over it would break my heart.”

“Right then,” Moon continued briskly before he got too emotional. “Get your jemmy out your pack, we’ve still got a couple of doors to open.”

“Wait – now that my cursed chains have gone,” said Josiah, “I can feel some of my strength starting to return.” Lucy jolted with shock as Josiah’s fist punched through his cell door, splintering the wood around the lock. The angel pushed open his door against the weight of water and stepped out of his cell for the first time since the Feast of Ravens.

Lucy threw her arms around him and then recoiled when her hands touched the angel’s bare shoulders and felt the jagged stumps.

“What have they done to you?”

“Nothing that time won’t heal,” said Josiah. “Or that I haven’t already forgiven.”

Lucy had been so focused on the rescue mission that she had almost forgotten the threat of the floodwater continuing to wreak havoc on the Under. But suddenly the tunnel shuddered beneath their feet and an awful rasping sound echoed around them. All along the length of the corridor, stones began to break free from the roof and crash into the water. The lantern on its plank raft was still alight, but one close splash would leave them all blind.

“Follow me,” said Josiah calmly. The Weeping Man put his hands to the metal spikes and, with a tremendous effort, he forced them back into their hidden housing in the wall, only stopping when they all heard the click of the spring lock snapping back into place.

“Victoria,” Josiah shouted. “If you can hear me, please stand clear of the door.”

The angel positioned himself in front of Queen Victoria’s cell door and kicked it with such force that it shattered. The Watchers pushed their way through the broken wood and Lucy gasped when she saw a white shape floating on the surface of the water, arms spread wide. She swung the lantern round for a better look and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was only a voluminous blouse. So where was the Queen?

The light found a tiny form right at the rear of the cell. As the floodwaters had risen it seemed that the Queen had taken her bed and managed somehow to stand it upright against the wall. Victoria was clinging to the top of it, her face above the surface, but her eyes closed.

Josiah drew closer and picked up the small woman as if she were a child. Victoria’s skin was as pale and shiny as candle wax and her lips were almost lilac from hypothermia. Josiah breathed very gently on her face and the elderly monarch’s eyes fluttered open.

“We’re taking you home,” he said.

Lucy barely remembered the journey out of those terrible dungeons. As they climbed higher, the water level dropped, but the Under itself had become one big mantrap, ready to crush them. All around them, above and beneath, stones that had held fast for hundreds of years were growing loose. Threatening to fall at any time.

When Moon punched open the last trapdoor, Lucy had never felt more grateful to be alive. Although they had emerged within the shadow of the Wall, she stood there and let the rain fall on her body, her arms spread and her head back, so she could catch the raindrops in her mouth. She stayed like that for a blissful second before pulling her flare gun from her pack, unwrapping the oilcloth that had kept it dry and firing it into the sky.

The green explosion lit up the clouds.

Mission accomplished.

Jonas pointed to the flare as it rose into the air and burst green over the city.

Nathaniel punched the air.

Lucy and Mr. Moon had rescued Victoria!

It was the signal that the army had been waiting for too and from all around the city, Victoria’s army began their assault. Message received and understood; Her Majesty was safe. Now the gloves could come off.

The ground beneath Nathaniel’s feet shook, the vibration followed a moment later by the sounds of cannon fire. “Looks like the Wall is coming down tonight, son,” said Jonas.

Along with the brave men and women of London, Jonas, Nathaniel and Ghost had battled tooth and nail to wrestle their sector out of Legion hands. It had been harder than they had ever imagined. Good men and women had been forced to fight like the devil to protect the ones they loved. Jonas knew that even though they would be relieved to live to tell the tale, battles like that left deep scars inside. And the night was still not over.

Just as one brigade of Legionnaires was defeated, so another one emerged to take its place. Then there were the Feathered Men who were spoilt for choice when it came to fresh victims to devour. They seemed to have gone into some sort of feeding frenzy and the sound of their delirious glee echoed overhead, louder than the incessant rain, louder even than the artillery bombardment.

Jonas was painfully aware that the Feathered Men could still win if the free Londoners lost their courage now. He drew Ghost and Nathaniel to him.

“The Queen is safe,” Jonas shouted above the mayhem. “God save the Queen!” Then louder, at the top of his lungs: “God save the Queen!”

Nathaniel joined in and they chanted with all their might.

Down the road another man joined in. Then another and another, their spirits lifting as they took strength in that good news.

The cry spread, house by house, ringing the length of Old Gravel Lane, then right across the East End.

“God save the Queen!”

“And God help us,” Jonas added as the battle continued.