‘Are you going to be a dick or are you going to talk to me?’ she said.

Paul looked surprised by this. He peered at her again with that cold animal stare. She wondered whether to shout, to scream. It might bring the patrol running, but it might also shock him into action. She didn’t want him to suddenly come at her. The knife looked horribly sharp. Even if it didn’t kill her it could do a lot of damage. She thought of Brooke’s face. Of Achilleus, mauled in the fight at the palace. And she was sitting down, couldn’t move fast. He had the advantage of being on his feet, tensed and ready to strike. She pictured the knife lashing out, cutting cleanly through skin, through muscle, grinding on her bones …

The candle flickered as a draught from under the door passed over it. Even though Paul hadn’t changed position the shifting shadows made it look like he was moving.

Maxie was aware of the tea light, right in front of her foot in its glass container. An idea came to her, but she couldn’t risk looking down. Didn’t want him to guess what she was thinking.

‘Why don’t you put the knife away?’ she said, trying to make her voice sound calm and reassuring, soothing. Like she was nice.

‘Why don’t you put the knife away … ?’ Paul wasn’t trying to sound nice, more like something out of a rubbish horror film. He was swaying more noticeably from left to right, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his hand, the one that held the knife, shaking. Maxie spotted a movement and glanced over at Cameron. He wasn’t dead. He was waking up.

That was bad. Paul might get spooked. Do something rash.

It was now or never.

Maxie quickly jerked her foot forward as hard as she could, sending the candle skittering across the floor. At the same time she rolled sideways out of her chair, groping unsuccessfully for her sword, and hit the floor empty-handed …

The candle had gone out and the museum was instantly plunged into darkness. The sudden absence of light was dramatic. She was blind. Hoped Paul was too.

It wouldn’t last, though. There would be enough light coming in through the windows for them to see each other soon, so Maxie kept moving, scrambling away on all fours, and now she was yelling.

‘He’s here! Paul is here!’

She prayed that Cameron was all right. Hoped that in the confusion, and with all the noise she was making, Paul would come after her and not try to attack Cameron where he sat.

She heard whistles, running feet, saw torch beams scratching at the darkness.

‘Be careful!’ she screamed. ‘He’s got a knife. Keep away from him.’

‘Where is he?’

‘I can’t see him.’

‘Where is he?’