The first thing that struck Thanatos as he came to his senses was that he couldn’t believe he was alive. When the force of the Chaos Stone had struck him, he’d felt sure that, kardia or no kardia, it was the end of his immortal life. He knew he was strong. But he had no idea just how strong he was. No one did.

The second thing that struck him was that the Chaos Stone had gone. Before the blast knocked him unconscious, he’d seen his beloved elemental gem shatter into infinite pieces. He had lost its power. The world was no longer his. But – he was still here. He still wanted the world. And he wouldn’t rest until he had it.

He rose to his feet, dusted himself down and started to make his way across the cave.

And that’s when the third thing struck him.

He’d not taken three steps when he was pulled up by something around his leg. He lifted the hem of his black robe. His left ankle was encircled by an iron ring. And attached to the ring was a chain. And the chain was attached to a mighty rock.

His heart quickened. Where was he?

Thanatos allowed his groggy eyes to absorb more of his surroundings. He wasn’t at the Earth’s core. He was somewhere torturously familiar. Somewhere he had spent two thousand years exploring every chink in the rock, every pebble on the ground, every dent in the dust. He felt his soul shrink at the very thought of spending one more second here.

He was back beneath Stonehenge.

‘ZEUS!’ he roared, with such force that small rocks came loose from the ceiling. ‘ZEUS! I WILL FIND YOU! I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE! I WILL BE YOUR MASTER! I SWEAR IT ON THE STYX!’

His vow echoed around the empty cave. And if anyone heard him, they didn’t reply.

Thanatos, Daemon of Death, was left quite alone, trapped beneath the Earth’s surface to contemplate whether anyone would ever hear him again.

23. Under the Hammer

23. Under the Hammer

Patricia Porshley-Plum was about to get what she wanted. She could feel it. She could taste the victory on her lips. And, after all this time, it tasted better than ever.

‘Welcome, pudding,’ she said for the umpteenth time that morning as another potential buyer crossed the threshold of Home Farm. ‘Please feel free to ask any questions – I am here to helpykins.’

She smiled insincerely at the fool whom she hoped to part from his money. By the end of today, she would have exactly what she deserved. And she couldn’t wait.

A strange noise upstairs interrupted her self-congratulation. She followed the confused whispering that led her to the bathroom.