There are creatures slithering down here at the bottom of the sea – pale, squirming serpents, fish and eels – disgusting and tortured and suffocating in this liquid darkness. I try to swim away, aware that a huge mass has shifted beneath me – the ocean floor itself, lifting up, stretching out its scaled neck and tail, opening its foul, yawning jaws. It is following me through the black water – my lungs are bursting – I have been holding my breath for a thousand years. I stumble out of the water on to the sand, and I hear its hissing, rasping breath behind me. I scramble away. Its heavy, wet footsteps follow me, its long claws scratch against the rocks. I can feel its rancid breath on my back as it lunges forward, reeking of salt-water corpses and rotting flesh – it has killed so many already – what made me think that I would be the one to outrun it? There is nothing special about me. I fall to my knees, sobbing and panting for breath. I know it will happen now. The bony jaws of the Wyrm are about to close around me and it will all be over . . .

But that moment never came. I was suddenly completely awake, my ears ringing with the noise that had woken me. Gunfire.

I looked around in the darkness, my heart still banging from my nightmare. I strained my eyes to check every inch of the lantern room, listening for noises in the lighthouse and the cottage beneath me, but I knew the answer already. Grandpa Joe had not come back, and neither had Mags.

Chapter 42

42

There were planes over the sea, just beyond the cliffs – four, five of them, maybe – they were roaring at each other like mechanical dragons, spitting out fire and fury. The world beyond the lantern room was a blurred chaos of smoke and rain and noise.

If I can just fall asleep again, surely the others will be home soon and everything will be fine . . . But I couldn’t. Something felt dreadfully wrong. I managed to lift myself up in my chair a little and twist around to look out of the window behind me. Everything was velvet-black – I couldn’t even see the outline of the cottage roof – until an explosion in the sky illuminated the world like a ball of lightning, and then I saw something horrible. It was long and pale and yellow and it was lying on the grass just outside the kitchen door. Everything went dark again instantly, but I knew exactly what I had seen. It was the scarf Mags had been wearing earlier. And the door to the kitchen was standing open. And there was something else there too – a lifeless shape slumped on the wet ground.

Mags.