But far fewer than Gadreel and Sidona had planned. They had meant to obliterate the entire city, killing millions. And now Sidona was dead – and with her, any hopes her husband had of using her powers against the rest of humanity.

Except that Sidona’s last act had been to begin the resurrection of her people. There were women amongst the imprisoned Nephilim; if any were priestesses, they would have the same ability to control earth energy. Nina snapped her mind’s eye with dizzying speed back to Uluru. She had to stop the process – or reverse it, returning the giants to their eternal sleep.

The chamber took on ethereal form around her. Throughout it, she sensed the tiny jewels of frozen consciousnesses – but now they were starting to thaw as the prisoners crept towards wakefulness—

One had already awoken.

And was right behind her.

Macy fearfully picked her way through the huge cathedral-like chamber. Her father’s warning had been true: the bad guys, on both sides, were indeed all dead. She tried to follow his advice by not looking at the bodies, but they were scattered everywhere. The only way not to see them was to look down at her feet, and change direction if anything bad came into view.

Smoke wafted through the space, stinking like rotten eggs. Light from the giant crystal pillar came through a big archway, but the haze turned it the sickly shade of orange soda. She knew she shouldn’t go towards it; she had to find Mr Jungala.

On the right, halfway along, Dad had said. She angled in that direction, raising her gaze. No sign of him – but she did see a dead Nephilim, sprawled against a rock. She cringed in revulsion and looked down again.

Something glinted on the floor. She recognised it – a trikan. The Nephilim must have dropped it. Conflicting feelings ran through her: leave it alone, or take it? There was the ick factor that it had come from a dead man, but on the other hand, it would make her feel safer. Even though it was much larger than the Atlantean one, sized for someone ten feet tall, she still felt confident she could handle it.

She hesitated, then picked it up. The handgrip was so large she could barely close her fingers around it, and the whole weapon weighed several pounds. But she felt an odd sense of connection, as if she knew exactly what it would do if she threw it – or rather, it would know what she wanted it to do.

Whatever; it really did make her feel safer. A little. Her confidence boosted, she moved on.

Drifting smoke wafted past, making her cough and obscuring the view ahead. But she was not far from the chamber’s right wall, and nearly halfway along. Still no sign of the ranger. Dad had said he was hurt; maybe he’d passed out?