‘Hey, hey.’ The ranger pointed at his belt. ‘I’ve got something.’ He popped open a leather sheath and took out a gleaming steel Leatherman multi-tool.

Eddie accepted it, unfolding the largest blade with a snick. It was only four inches long, but the point and edge were clean and extremely sharp. ‘Ripper, mate,’ he said in an attempt at an Australian accent.

Barney frowned. ‘Don’t do that.’

‘Sorry. But thanks anyway.’ The blade ready in his hand, he moved back to their hiding place’s entrance. The wall of smoke roiled at him, drawn towards the tunnel by the air flowing up to the surface. ‘Don’t breathe this stuff in,’ he warned. Barney took several deep breaths before clamping a hand over his mouth and nose. Eddie held his own breath again as the dirty cloud reached him, the acrid gas stinging his nostrils.

He squinted into the mist. No sign of any Nephilim, but he briefly glimpsed one of Wu’s men cautiously advancing through the scattered obstacles about sixty feet away, an MP7 raised.

Could he use the thickening smoke to sneak up on the Chinese and take his weapon? Too far, too risky. Once he was unsighted, he might miss his target by twenty feet—

A boot scuffed less than twenty feet away.

Eddie looked for the source, but saw only a vague shadow before the orange haze wiped out all detail. That sighting was enough, though. One of the snipers, rifle raised so he could use the thermal sight to see through the smoke. He would pick out any Nephilim who raised their heads as clearly as if they were lit by spotlights; the Englishman would be just as visible . . .

Which, he suddenly realised, might work to his advantage.

He clenched his fists, ready for action – and stepped out into the open.

Nina and Cheng cautiously picked their way down the spiral walkway. It was adamantium, the same dark grey material the Nephilim used in their vimanas; the Veteres had presumably had the same knowledge of metallurgy. The path had survived the ages intact, only to be damaged within minutes of her arrival. ‘I am not to blame,’ she grumbled. ‘I have not trashed another archaeological site!’

‘What?’ said Cheng from behind her. The young man’s shoulder was pressed against the pillar, eyes fixed firmly on his feet.

‘Nothing!’ She paused as her corkscrewing descent brought the bridge and the great archway back into view. The fierce battle between the Chinese and the Nephilim had spread, a grenade exploding inside the pillar itself. Conflict was still ongoing, but she now heard more modern weapons than baraka fire. Wu’s team seemed to be winning.