away in an instant by her disgust that she was standing amidst a carpet of brown, writhing bodies that stretched as far as she could see. She closed her eyes briefly to compose herself, then continued on her way, but she couldn't help her shudders every time one brushed its cold fur against her feet.
Whatever she had done to control the rats began to diminish with her return to awareness and by the time she reached the top of the escalator they had begun to thin out. A few torches flickered in the ticket station, but Ruth was puzzled that she couldn't see any daylight. As she approached the doorway she realised the tower she had seen from Hampstead Heath had been built over the top of the tube station. The door that normally led out to the gardens overlooking the Tower of London now exited directly into a dark structure constructed out of compacted steel and melted plastic. In the walls amongst the twisted girders and building rubble, she could make out bits and pieces of the things that had been used in the building: computers, cash registers, mobile phones, cars and vans and motorcycles, part of a London bus. It was suffocatingly hot and filled with what sounded like some mining machine pounding away rhythmically nearby.
Broad steps ran up and down, with warren-like rooms on either side. She hesitated, unsure which way to go. A wave of panic flooded through her. Earlier she had sensed Church had made it, but what if he was now dead? What if she was the only one left? The responsibility was so vast she could barely comprehend it. What was she supposed to do?
As she agonised she caught sight of a faint blue glow above her that ignited a desperate hope. Holding the Spear before her, she took the steps two at a time. Her heart beat faster as she almost stumbled across the remains of several Fomorii, and then she rounded a corner into an intense blue light.
Church and the Bone Inspector were climbing ahead of her. She was shocked to see the illumination was streaming from what appeared to be a severed head, hanging by its hair from the same hand in which Church held the Wayfinder.
When he saw her his face broke into such an open expression of relief she had to run over and throw her arms around him. He held the head and Wayfinder away, although she didn't sense any danger from them. 'Where's Ryan?' he asked.
'I don't know. Don't know if he's alive or dead.'
'He'll get here if it's humanly possible,' Church said confidently.
'Tom?'
Church's expression told her all she needed to know. Her spirit sagged. 'I thought he'd go on forever.'
'This isn't the place to stand around talking,' the Bone Inspector said curtly.
They began to move cautiously back up the stairs. Occasionally one of the Fomorii would wander out of an adjoining room, only to be dispatched in an instant by Caledfwlch or by a flash of searing energy from the head.
'I presume you know where you're going,' Ruth whispered.
'No. But if you stop and let yourself feel, you'll know you're going in the right direction.'
As he spoke she realised she could sense a palpable pressure in the air that was slowly squeezing the life out of her chest; and it was getting stronger the more they climbed. A corresponding feeling of dread was eating away at the edges of her mind; all she could think of was the hideous thing she had seen during her spirit flight from Wave Sweeper. 'What are we going to find?' Her voice suggested she hoped for some comfort, although she knew there would be none.
'I always expected it to be something like Calatin or Mollecht, only bigger. But I don't think it's going to be anything like that at all.'
'Worse?'
'What do you think?'
'Hasn't Frank got a song for an occasion like this?'
'Yes, `Get Happy.' As the lyric goes, Get ready for the judgment day.'
'Thanks. That's dismal.'
'No, no, it's positive. Really. We're going to the Promised Land.'
There was something so naive about him, even in the face of such terrible surroundings, Ruth felt a surge of love. 'We'll get out of this,' she said gently.
Her words were lost as a shadow crossed Church's face. 'Did you hear that?'
She hadn't heard anything.
Church was suddenly consumed with anxiety. He dashed up a few steps and threw open a door on the outside of the tower. It was empty apart from piles of burning rubbish before irregular windows looking out over the Thames. Flying Fomorii were zipping around without, diving down on something that was below their range of vision. A tremendous shock rocked the entire tower. Liquid flame gushed past the window.
Church tried a door on the inner wall of the stairway. It was locked. 'I've got to look in here,' he said anxiously.
'We haven't got time,' the Bone Inspector replied harshly. He was contin ually peering up and down the stairs for any sign of attack. 'It's already morning. The gates will be opening in a few hours.'
'There's time for this.' Church tried to force the door.
'I told you not to be so stupid. The hour's almost here!' The Bone Inspector made to drag Church away, but Church knocked his blackened hand off. They squared up to each other.
'This isn't helping,' Ruth pleaded. 'Why is this room so important?'
Raw emotion flickered across his face. 'Marianne's in there. I heard her.'
Ruth stepped in before the Bone Inspector could began a rant. 'You have to let him do it,' she begged. 'There'll still be time.'
After a moment, the Bone Inspector relented. Overcome with apprehension, Church stepped back and levelled the Sword at the lock. It burst with a resounding crack and the door swung open.
The room was not like any they had seen before. It was spacious, about fifty feet square, with smooth walls lined with black stone. A single torch burned on the far side. The flagged floor had been marked out with an intricate pattern of lines and geometric shapes, along with bizarre symbols that suggested an alien language. The effect of the relationship of the various elements was so intensely disturbing it made Church's head spin. A large block of black stone stood in the centre of the design, and on it was a stoppered green-glass bottle.
'Be careful.' The Bone Inspector held out a hand to stop Church stepping over the threshold. 'Don't go blundering in.'
Church scanned the room one more time. 'Can't see anything that might be a problem. What makes you worried?'
'Instinct.'
Church fixed his eyes on the bottle. 'That's it. That's where she is.' He set down the head and the Wayfinder, but held on to the Sword. 'I'm going to have to chance it.'
'Bloody stupid. All this at stake and you're taking risks,' the Bone Inspector muttered.
'It's an obligation to someone I loved. Don't you understand that?'
There was a long pause before the Bone Inspector replied quietly, 'Maybe.' Then: 'Get a bloody move on! Time's running out!'
In the room the temperature was inexplicably below freezing. Church's breath clouded, his body protesting with shivers after the intense heat. Church let his foot hover over the design, but couldn't think of any other way to reach the bottle. Slowly he brought it down.
'You okay?' Ruth called out.
'Fine. No problem.' He took another step.
'Just keep that big head and big mouth in check,' the Bone Inspector growled. 'And stop dawdling.'
As Church took the third step, he felt a strange tingling sensation in his extremities. Ruth noticed his surprised reaction. 'What is it?'
'Nothing. Just the cold. It's like the Arctic in here.'
With the next step, he lost the feeling in his fingers and toes. He shook them for warmth and was surprised to see them glisten in the torchlight.
'Tread… careful-' The Bone Inspector's voice was oddly distorted before disappearing completely. Church was too fixated on the bottle to be concerned about it. All he could think about was Marianne and everything she'd suffered because of his unwitting involvement in the events now being played out. He had made her a promise to
