“But Mould couldn’t have known that, more than a century in the future, someone would construct the Large Hadron Collider and turn it on,” said Professor Stefan. “He couldn’t even have imagined people would own watches that didn’t need winding, or shoes with wheels in the heels.”

“Perhaps he didn’t, but something else did,” said Maria. “Something much older, something that had been watching humanity for a long, long time, something with a lot of patience and a lot of anger. It guided Mould in the creation of the pentagram, and then added one more building for luck.”

She was about to place her finger at the heart of the pentagram, but Dorothy beat her to it.

“Wreckit & Sons,” said Dorothy.

They all remained silent for a few moments. They might have remained silent for a good deal longer had the quiet not been broken by the sound of a scream and a tea boy’s feet running very, very fast.

“What is wrong with that boy now?” said Professor Stefan. “Honestly, he’ll be jumping at the sight of his own shadow next.”

• • •

Interestingly for Brian—although “terrifyingly for Brian” might have been more apt—he was in the process of doing just that as Professor Stefan spoke. To begin with, he’d been relieved to find that the not-ghost in the red robe wasn’t chasing him. He’d taken a couple of glances over his shoulder as he ran, and there was no sign of pursuit. There was just his shadow extending behind him, the way a shadow should.

Unfortunately, his shadow quickly began catching up with him before passing him entirely and finally separating itself from his shoes and assuming a “this far and no farther” position in front of him. It stretched as he watched, growing both wider and taller, until it entirely blocked his way. It also had more substance than a shadow should. Brian thought that, if he poked it with his finger, it would feel like a big, dirty marshmallow, and his finger would be returned to him stained with black, if it was returned at all.

A crack opened in the shadow’s head. It might have been mistaken for a smile, but only the kind of smile that a cannibal might wear before tucking into dinner. Teeth appeared in the mouth; they were sharp but wispy, as though the smoke from a series of recently blown-out candles had solidified. A clawed hand reached for Brian, and he ducked just in time to avoid having it close upon his skull. Since he was now heading in the direction of the floor, Brian decided simply to keep going. He dived through the shadow’s legs, somersaulted to his feet behind it, surprising himself almost as much as the creature, and recommenced running and screaming. Meanwhile the creature, clearly deciding that two massive arms ending in jagged claws weren’t enough for the job, began sprouting a third and a fourth, and grew another head while it was about it, since you never knew when a second head might come in useful. Then, seemingly content with these improvements, it returned to the task of trying to consume Brian.