It was beyond anything they had expected. They emerged from the tunnel on to an iron gantry that ran all the way round an enormous circular chamber. In the middle was a dark tower, rising from a gulf of mists like a mountainous stalagmite. Bright lights glittered at its peak. Four narrow iron bridges linked the tower to the surrounding chamber, and below them was a drop that seemed to go down forever.
‘Your monitors never showed us this,’ Sam breathed.
‘No,’ confessed Magnus, his eyes streaming with tears from the stinging vapours. ‘We never got a spy-camera in here. It’s the Philanthropist’s old centre of operations. Legend calls this place the Well Chamber. We are the first Vigilance agents ever to set foot in here – hurrgh!’ Magnus paused to gasp for breath. ‘It looks like the evacuation has left it almost deserted – except for whoever is in the control tower at the top.’
‘Look,’ Theo said, his keen eyes picking out a fragile framework that rose from the top of the tower, disappearing into the darkness overhead. ‘Some sort of Otis shaft.’
‘Normal people call them lifts,’ said Sam.
‘I’ve never seen a lift before,’ Theo replied, ‘or a normal person for that matter.’
‘It would appear,’ Magnus said, ‘that Dr Saint has his own express elevator into the heart of this place.’
‘Yeah – and out of it,’ noted Sam.
Behind them, the rising waters had churned up through the tunnel and were now spilling over the gantry, threatening to wash the three of them over the edge.
‘We’ve got to move,’ Magnus said. ‘Dangerous or not, that tower is now the safest place to be! To the bridge!’ he cried, his walking stick skidding on the slippery iron surface.
Sam was about to step on to the bridge when he was hit by a flying black blur. A final smoglodyte guard, hidden by the vapours, sprang straight at his throat, its spidery hands seeking a death hold on the soft flesh. But it was the smoglodyte that didn’t have a chance. Theo reached out and exploded the astonished creature with one swift touch. A small, foul drizzle spattered Sam, and a little dark cloud spread out across the paler mists of the chamber.
‘Yuck,’ said Sam, smearing the smog-stains off his cheek and on to his shirt. ‘Thanks for the save, Candle Man!’
Theo avoided Sam’s gaze as he stepped on to the narrow bridge, still awkward at the faint hint of hero worship. But he couldn’t deny he felt different now. He wasn’t just a bewildered escapee – as he had been at first – or a generally useless passenger, as he had felt with Chloe. Now he was part of a team and, looking at the sagging, bony Magnus and the red-faced, anxious Sam, he began to feel like he might have to emerge as the leader.
They continued the crossing in silence. Clouds rose from the depths below and drifted around them like enormous phantoms. Theo hoped that the very vapours created by Dr Saint would be his undoing – enabling a small group of determined enemies to creep into the heart of operations unseen.
Suddenly an ear-splitting bang made them jump.
‘What was that?’ Sam yelped.
Bang, bang – all around the chamber, the jarring sounds rang out. The trio froze, uncertain. Then the bridge began to tremble. Suddenly they heard a rapid clack, clack, clack – as if an invisible train were approaching.
‘Move!’ Magnus shouted. ‘That way!’ He pointed towards the tower.
Theo glanced backwards to see a shocking sight. The metal bridge was retracting. It no longer reached the gantry behind them. It had been automatically released and was being reeled in. Clack, clack, clack – the grey slats vanished into each other.
‘Faster!’ Theo cried as they raced towards the control tower, the bridge disappearing under their feet. He didn’t dare glance back – or down.
‘Go!’ With a desperate cry, Sam actually shoved his grandad over the last few yards, leaving himself and Theo to make a wild leap for the tower.
‘Made it!’ Sam gasped. They had landed in a heap on an iron balcony, just as the last slats of the bridge rattled into the wall. They crouched in the dark, listening for any sounds of alarm.
‘It would seem the retraction of the bridge was automatic,’ Magnus wheezed, sitting up and trying to recover his dignity. The bulging veins in his neck and forehead were pulsing as if ready to burst. ‘I don’t think anyone in the tower has spotted us.’ They crouched in the dark, looking to the right and left, but no guards appeared.
‘It seems their plans hold all their attention,’ Magnus said. He nodded upwards, where lights were blinking and the whirring of machines could be heard. A metal staircase led up from the balcony, inviting them to make the final ascent. Magnus gave his blunderbuss to Sam and grabbed the ladder with both gnarled hands.
Theo peeled his gloves off and looped the gauntlets to his belt. His hands were glowing – that meant at least one murderer was nearby. Exhausted in every muscle, he followed the others up.
They clambered to the top of an abandoned observation post. From there, they could look down on the main platform, from which Dr Saint appeared to be controlling operations. The three crouched behind an iron barrier and caught their breath.
Sam nudged Theo forwards to take a peek, as he was the ‘luckiest’. Peering around the barrier, at first Theo could make out nothing, but soon the fitful mists dispersed enough to reveal the scene.
In the centre of the platform was the main control station – a semicircular array of great iron wheels, valves and levers, all under a metal storm-hood to protect it from the very forces it could unleash. In front of the main array, several dark figures moved. Theo spotted two guards in grey uniforms. Then a narrow, erect form stepped back from a central screen and shouted into a Victorian-style speaking tube. Immediately a second, portly man appeared from a stairway below and gave a slight bow. Unmistakably, it was Dr Saint and Mr Nicely. Theo felt an almost physical pang of dismay at seeing them.
Dr Saint stood over the controls like a captain at the wheel of a ship. From time to time he shouted orders at two huge Foundlings, both muscular powerhouses stripped to the waist. Their hulking bodies were covered with tattoos. These human titans, glistening with sweat, were easily the scariest people Theo had ever seen. They were using all their might to turn massive control wheels.
Theo was staggered to see his sober, straight-laced guardian presiding over such an extraordinary scene. What did it mean? What could Dr Saint be up to? And most importantly of all … how could it be stopped?
He assessed their chances. The enemies he had already seen, plus a figure at the door of the Otis shaft, made seven foes. That was encouraging – seven was not a multiple of the dreaded three. Maybe they could still stop Dr Saint somehow.
The enemy think I’m out of the way, Theo remembered. None of them suspect how close the Candle Man is. But did Magnus have a plan? Or were the others waiting for Theo to do something?
Theo was aware that an impatient Magnus had crept up behind him and was peering at their foes too. The old man was fiddling with something in his coat pocket. Not that brown bottle of smelling salts, Theo hoped. It was usually a sign that Magnus was about to collapse into one of his wheezing fits. Now would not be a good time!
Theo’s thoughts were broken into by the sound of a familiar, arrogant voice.
‘We are on the brink of a new age!’ Dr Saint declared. It was hard to get a clear view of him, but it seemed to Theo there was something wrong with his guardian’s face. Suddenly Dr Saint sounded annoyed.
‘Where is Baron Patience?’ he shouted. ‘And Lady Blessing? This moment should be witnessed by the Board – to be recounted to future generations!’
‘Still no full report, sir,’ Mr Nicely replied. ‘I’ve just asked the captain of the guard about it. Some sort of malarkey in the upper tunnels.’
‘Malarkey?’ roared Dr Saint. He approached Mr Nicely with an urgency that bordered on menace. ‘That’s why I keep you around, you dolt – for your precise and useful reports!’
Mr Nicely stepped backwards and looked down at his own shoes. ‘Something about a tiger, sir, and some condors. Hard to confirm details. Didn’t want to bother you with it now – what with the Liberation, sir.’
‘Didn’t want to bother me?’ thundered Dr Saint. ‘It’s that fanatic, the Dodo! He’s out to spoil my victory! How serious is this report?’
‘Nothing – nothing to worry about, Dr Saint,’ the butler lied. ‘A mere skirmish – tunnel rights, that sort of thing.’ Mr Nicely no longer had the courage to bring bad news to his master.
‘Nothing to worry about?’ Dr Saint snorted. ‘Then why did you mention it? Don’t bother me again, you fool!’
Dr Saint returned to the control station, which sparkled with sinister purpose under its metal hood. A great roar like thunder from the furnace rooms deep below rocked the tower. Red needles trembled at the top of their dials. Ancient alchemical symbols clicked into place on a counting mechanism. The very air trembled with anticipation. Already the elements themselves hungered for the moment of consummation.
Dr Saint gripped a large iron lever.
‘This is it,’ he said. ‘No one can say I failed the memory of the original Philanthropist. When I throw this lever, the Liberation is unstoppable.’
That sounded pretty serious to Theo. He glanced around to see if Magnus felt the same.
Magnus evidently did. Theo could only watch helplessly as the old man suddenly pulled a revolver from his pocket.
‘No!’ screeched Magnus, leaping from cover. With a deafening blast, he fired a single, deadly shot.