‘You have the decoded writings from the Kabbalah about ascending the Tree of Life?’ Sphinx asked.

‘I do, sire.’

‘That’s all we ne—’ Sphinx cut himself off, hearing something.

An echo from somewhere back in the Endless Tunnel.

He gazed at the narrow ladder-shaft they had climbed to get here. It had, during the spectacular rise of the megastadium, extended its tight walls to become an even longer ladder-shaft.

Sphinx froze, listening.

‘We mustn’t linger. We left some Vandals to slow our rivals and plugged up a few of those low tunnels with greystone, but they will eventually get here.’

He turned to his three Knights: ‘Gentlemen, it is time to earn your places in the world to come. Jaeger Sechs, you will come with the cardinal and me. We must penetrate this city-maze and get to the castle and the Life Throne atop it as quickly as we can.’

He nodded at the other two: ‘Jaegers Sieben and Acht’—Hunters Seven and Eight—‘you will do whatever is necessary to keep our competitors from reaching that castle. Whatever. Is. Necessary. Understand?’

The three Knights of the Golden Eight nodded curtly.

‘Aye, sir.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Sphinx said, ‘Let’s move. Destiny awaits.’

And so, by the light of the moon and the seaborne floodlights, Sphinx, Mendoza and Jaeger Sechs—Hunter Six—set out into the maze, crossing a few superhigh bridges that connected the outer rim to some towers.

They then descended some steep rail-less stone staircases that took them into the inner part of the maze, before ascending others that were even steeper.

At the start and finish of each bridge or staircase, they always passed through an ornate stone archway.

It was a long and circuitous route: left then right, up then down, stairs and ramps, trenches and bridges.

Their progress was slow.

They marched through the night.

‘Can we not call in a helicopter to fly us directly over to the castle?’ Jaeger Sechs asked early in their journey.

‘No,’ Mendoza said. ‘Absolutely not. Like many of these labyrinths, this maze and the castle are connected by unseen mechanisms. Unless one passes through all the archways of this maze, one cannot ascend this throne. There are no shortcuts when the fate of the universe is at stake.’

They had been traversing the city-maze for about two hours when the first gunshot smashed off a stone wall above their heads.

The monks of the Order of Omega had arrived . . .

. . . and the battle of the city-maze began.

It would rage for the next twelve hours: a running battle between Sphinx’s Knights and the Omega monks.

Both forces tried to make their way to the centre of the open-air city-maze, exchanging volleys of gunfire—at first under the night-time sky and then in daylight as the sun rose.

Commanded by Brother Ezekiel, the Omega monks had come prepared and they took to the battle with zeal.