The noise of the creatures held Ben like a vice. Claw Carter was rooted to the spot too, equally mesmerized by the appalling sounds emanating from the pit. Ben had read about sailors whose minds were imprisoned by the sirens’ song and then lured to their deaths on the rocks. The music of the creatures was a thousand times worse.

Grey Wing, meanwhile, was in ecstasy, hooting and howling in triumph. Water was streaming from the roof now, snuffing out the remaining candles and bringing with it a hail of masonry. Ruby lay discarded, like a broken toy, blood from her wound mingling with the water on the floor until she was surrounded by a halo of red.

And the tide of terror was still rising.

Squealing. Snapping. Slithering.

The sounds bombarded Ben, filling his heart with fear. He had no idea what sort of monsters might be climbing up from the darkness, but his imagination ran wild.

Ben couldn’t help himself. Curiosity got the better of him. He looked down.

He saw teeth. So many teeth. Thin ones like needles. Long ones for ripping and tearing.

And eyes, glowing back at him with malice.

The things – Ben could think of no better word to describe them – were crawling and scrabbling up the sides of the hole that had held them for so very long. Some of the things seemed to change form as he watched them. Long tentacles would appear from dark orifices to taste the air. Freakish limbs swayed disturbingly before sprouting eyes or fingers or mouths.

Ben saw what looked like a human hand being tossed between the creatures. Then he spotted the signet ring and realized with revulsion that it was all that remained of Mr. Sweet.

Only a handful of candles still burned now and it felt as if the darkness was hemming them in on all sides, the circle of light dwindling with each passing second. Ben gazed at Ruby and the sight of her motionless form stirred something inside of him stronger than his fear.

There were so many things that Ben still wanted to say to Ruby; that she was amazing; that she should be a Watcher. That he forgave her.

The Hand of Heaven began to thrum with power as the first wave of creatures started to spill out of the pit and scurry away into the darkness. Some of the vile things came scuttling towards Ben, chittering with laughter and gnashing their tiny jaws. Ben retreated, lashing out with his feet. As he did so he was struck with the urgent need to get Ruby out of their way; he couldn’t stand the thought of these awful beings touching her.

Ben tried to skirt round the edge of the pit, but halted in his tracks as a new monstrosity emerged from the depths. It moved so swiftly that Ben only had an impression of a vast circular mouth and a mane of grabbing tentacles before they rose up and were lost in the darkest recesses of the roof. Ben stared in disbelief as it gradually dawned on him that the enormous swaying trunk now before him was just the creature’s neck.

Grey Wing hopped up and down in a manic dance of delight.

Carter had obviously had the same thought as Ben, and while Grey Wing was distracted he managed to reach Ruby and drag her out of the path of the creatures. If any Legionnaire was worth saving, it was Ruby Johnson, thought Carter.

As they retreated, one of the beasts sprung at Carter’s throat, a long pink tongue flicking out and encircling his neck like a lasso. Carter promptly cut the appendage with his claw and left the creature to flap on the floor, squealing in pain. Carrying Ruby across his shoulders now, Carter tried to clear a path to the door but there were simply too many creatures blocking his way. The floor was a mass of writhing things, impossible to say where one ended and another began.

Ben was fighting a losing battle too and before long all three of them were crammed onto the only high ground available. Ben stood on the island of Sweet’s throne, Carter beside him with Ruby in his arms, while the ghastly creatures surrounded them; a sea of undulating bodies.

“This is your end,” Grey Wing shrieked triumphantly, flying towards them, the vast creature swaying behind him like a tree in a storm. “The Legion never knew the meaning of evil, but I will teach mankind that lesson today. While my Feathered Men rule the skies, the creatures of the pit shall lay your world to waste… And the purge will start with you, Ben King—”

Grey Wing never finished those words.

Without warning, the huge monster snatched Grey Wing out of the air and engulfed him. Ben winced as he heard the crunching of those enormous jaws. In a single gulp, Grey Wing was gone. The creature brushed against the roof of the sanctuary, bringing down a hail of masonry. Ben couldn’t help but notice the shower of feathers that fell with the stones. Then the monster made a rattling sound in its throat and started to sway.

“Look out!” warned Carter. “It’s going to strike again.”

Ben stood his ground. All this time the power of the Hand had been building.

He raised his right hand and brandished it before him. The thing drew back with a hiss and the creatures around the throne retreated.

“That’s right,” said Ben. “You know what this is, don’t cha?”

Ben had no earthly hope against such a nightmarish enemy, but he allowed the Hand to guide him, feeling its raw energy surging through his veins.

He lifted the Hand up towards the ceiling and then brought it down vigorously with a short, sharp tug. In response, a massive stone broke loose from the ceiling and smashed against the beast’s skull.

The creature roared, opening its mouth wide… Ben stretched his fingers towards one of the pillars, closed the Hand into a fist and then flung it out in the direction of the gaping mouth. An entire section of pillar flew through the air to wedge itself in the beast’s jaws.

“Chew on that,” said Ben.

He enjoyed a split second of success before the roof began to collapse.

Ben hadn’t been prepared for the deluge of water and broken bricks that came thundering down through the jagged hole he had made in the ceiling. The floodwaters had been weakening the Under for days and now it seemed that the Hand had set in motion its ultimate destruction.

The last of the candles died and the darkness was absolute.

Ben could hear the creatures squealing in pain as hunks of masonry struck them, but Ben knew that the rockfall alone wasn’t enough to drive the monsters back into the pit.

Only light could repel darkness.

Only the Hand.

Carter had taught him that a single candle flame can be seen for twenty miles. How much brighter would the Hand of Heaven shine?

As he thought that, the same brilliance that had radiated from his fingers when the crown was destroyed began to return – a hundred – a thousand times brighter. It was like staring into the sun. Ben turned his own face away and shut his eyes, fearful that he might go as blind as Moon. The sanctuary was red, then radiant white.

The endless day…

There was a panic-stricken slithering and scuttling as the creatures tried to dodge the continued bombardment of masonry and escape the purity of the light. Even the gigantic thing was retreating, unable to avoid the crushing stones or stand another second in the light of the Hand.

It’s just a shame that I’m gonna be buried too, thought Ben; the light fading as the last creature fled in terror, even as the Under continued to fall, brick by brick…

After everything he’d been through, was this really how it would end?

Buried in the dark? Pulverised?

Not if Ben had anything to say on it!

Carter, Ben and Ruby were still huddled together on the throne. “Professor,” said Ben. “Can you climb off and hold Ruby while I try something?”

Another immense portion of the roof broke away. It hit the floor of the sanctuary with a noise which reminded Ben of stepping on snails; a sickly mixture of crunch and squelch.

“What are you going to do?” asked Carter.

“I’m going to tip this throne forwards so that we can shelter beneath it and not get our bonces caved in.”

“I’d love to believe you can do it, Ben, but it must weigh tons.”

“I’ve never let small things like the facts get in the way before,” said Ben, making light in order to overcome the fear of death that was creeping over him.

It was impossible to shift the throne, Ben knew that, but he remembered Josiah telling him that nothing was impossible for the Uncreated One. Ben manoeuvred himself behind the throne, hooked his right hand beneath it, clenched his teeth, summoned his strength and heaved…

The throne lifted an inch…the Hand pulsed with otherworldly power. Ben lifted harder…and the throne toppled forwards. Ben and Carter made a mad scramble to get under the shelter it provided, dragging Ruby with them.

She groaned.

Ben found her fingers and laughed out loud. He had expected her skin to be icy cold but it was warm to the touch.

“Ruby,” he said, trying to rouse her. “Ruby, it’s Ben.”

Ruby’s fingers gave his hand the faintest squeeze. “I knew you were trouble right from the start,” she said weakly.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Ben promised, his hopes soaring even as the Under disintegrated around them.

“We’d best get down,” said Moon. “That sounds like a twelve-pound muzzle-loading smooth-bore cannon to me.”

Even as he finished speaking they all heard the whistle, and then a huge section of Wall buckled inwards just twenty feet in front of them, sending them hurrying for cover. Josiah shielded the Queen. Lucy covered her head instinctively as she was showered with shards of brickwork and the air was filled with the tang of cordite.

Another booming rumble followed and through the breach in the Wall, Lucy saw the flare of artillery.

Queen Victoria straightened in Josiah’s arms – suddenly aware of how unbefitting it was for the Queen to be carried like a child – as a unit of what appeared to be London militiamen approached. Her clothes were hardly better than rags, her thinning hair plastered to her scalp. Josiah lowered her to the ground and Victoria did her best to stand erect – she barely came up to the angel’s shoulder.

Lucy spotted her distress and took off her own scarf, wrapping it respectfully around Victoria’s shoulders and over her head to protect the Queen’s modesty. “With your permission, Ma’am,” she added with a little curtsey.

The leader of the men came over to the Queen and saluted smartly. “Brigadier Daniel Carnehan, at your service, Ma’am. Please forgive our appearance, a necessary disguise I’m afraid. These men are Coldstream Guards, Your Majesty. Will you allow us the honour of escorting you to safety?”

Carnehan was guiding the Queen away when he turned on his heel to face Lucy and Mr. Moon. “I recognize your uniforms,” said Carnehan. “Watchers, I salute you.”

“Not so much as a ‘thank you’ from the Queen, though,” sniffed Moon when Victoria was not quite out of earshot. “There’s gratitude for you.”

Ben, Carter and Ruby were trapped. The throne had kept them safe but they would never be able to get out from the ruins of the Under.

And still the Hand ached with supernatural power.

This was the end of the Under, the defeat of the Legion. Ben had done what the prophecy had said he would. The darkness had been defeated. Now it was time to return to the light. He reached up. He needed to see the London sky. He pointed to where the stars would be and closed his eyes.

An immense shuddering and groaning filled the sanctuary, followed by a rockfall that sounded like an entire mountain collapsing.

Ben, Carter and Ruby remained stock-still. The draught caused by the downfall was enough to stir their hair as it swirled through the chamber and enveloped them in a cloud of dust. But amazingly not one single stone hit them.

“Did you do that?” asked Carter.

Ben didn’t answer but they all looked up.

There was a jagged hole in the roof of the sanctuary and above that a hole in the roof above and above that yet another hole.

Ben, Carter and Ruby stared up and saw…the sky.

On London’s streets, the rain was stopping. A wind had picked up out of nowhere and was driving the clouds out of the sky.

“Two Legionnaires are coming,” said Moon. “Sounds like they’re in a right old panic.”

He recognized the footsteps and smiled.

An arrogant tread, with a heavy heel. Tall, from the length of stride, but thin, almost spindly. Accompanied by a shorter boy with a rolling gait. Both running. Both scared.

Mickelwhite and Bedlam.

The two Legionnaires were so intent on escape that they almost ran into the Watchers.

Lucy moved in close to Bedlam, tucked her shoulder under his armpit, grabbed him by the arm and threw him over her own shoulder so that he landed smack on his back. The little yob tried to get back up again, but Lucy kept him down with a foot on his chest.

“When you’re in prison, you can remember that it was ‘Scarface’ who put you there.”

Moon meanwhile took the opportunity to floor Mickelwhite one last time. The old man took slightly too much pleasure in tripping Mickelwhite with his swordstick, sending him sprawling onto his face.

“Over here!” Lucy called to a group of nearby soldiers, who were handcuffing Legionnaires and leading them away.

“I think you’ve broken my nose again,” Mickelwhite whined, as the soldiers bundled him away.

“I wish Ben was here for this,” said Lucy. “You do think he’s alright, don’t you?”

“Ben’s got the Touch,” Moon replied. “He’ll come through.”

And that was when the street gave way fifty yards ahead of them. Houses crumbled and the road itself disappeared into the ground.

“Can you hear what I hear?” said Moon, heading for the crater.

When they were ten feet away Lucy heard it too; a familiar voice calling up from out of the ground. She ran the remaining steps, Moon and Josiah at her side, and then they all kneeled down and peered over the lip of the hole.

“See,” Ben called up to them from the ruins of the sanctuary. “I knew I had friends in high places.”