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‘I assure you that no assistance is needed.’

He was shrewd enough to know not to insult her. Not while she had that blade.

The Rephs returned to the floor. When Arcturus set me down, I tried not to look at the grisly remains of Cardinal Rocha, but Mistry retched. I grasped his shoulder.

‘You don’t have to go down there,’ I said. ‘There will be even more Buzzers around the cold spot.’

‘No. You … need someone who knows the place.’ He swallowed. ‘Can you hold them off, Paige?’

‘I can. Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’ll go first.’

Mistry nodded. Nick offered him a pistol, which he took. As I prepared to dislocate my spirit, Mistry muttered several names, drawing a few more poltergeists into the vicinity. A summoner couldn’t exert the same ironclad control over the dead as a binder, but the spirits would usually lend them a figurative hand.

As we descended into the gloom, I tried to curb my nerves, memories of France rushing back to me. There was no water down here, but the æther was so heavy and thick, I might as well be suffocating. Soon it was like trying to breathe smoke instead of air.

‘This is—’ Mistry braced a hand against the wall. ‘Why does the æther feel like this?’

‘It’s the Buzzers.’ I blinked away dark blotches. ‘Some of them do this.’

‘The older ones,’ Pleione said. ‘They taint the æther more severely than the newly turned.’

Jaxon kept a watchful eye on Sukie and Herne. The poltergeists strained at the leash, ill at ease.

‘Paige,’ Arcturus said, ‘use the ectoplasm. It will help you resist the corruption.’ I took out the vial. ‘Put it under your nose, and where the blood runs closest to your skin.’

Nick reloaded his gun. ‘The pulse points, you mean?’

‘Yes.’

With a nod, I opened the vial of molten light and dipped a fingertip. I dabbed it on to my skin like a perfume before offering it to the other humans, including Jaxon. The stronger he was, the higher our chances of getting out of here alive. By the time I tucked the vial back into my pocket, all four of us wore luminous war paint.

Arcturus was right. With his blood glowing on my skin, every deep breath clarified the æther, calming me. Mistry blinked several times, adjusting to the change in his sixth sense.

At the bottom of the steps, he showed us through an archway and down a corridor. ‘The Cripta dei Monarchi is the newest wing of the Grotte Vaticani,’ he said. ‘It was built after Scion was founded in England, to honour the popes’ long tradition of protecting devout monarchs. Let us hope the bodiesarehere, not in the Necropolis. That has a different entrance.’

Terebell moved in front of him, holding up her iridescent blade. I stayed close to her, ready to dislocate.

‘They could have put Rephs in the coffins,’ Nick said. ‘Would any of them have been empty?’

‘Yes, they prepare the tombs in advance. Queen Antonia of Spain was due to be laid here,’ Mistry said. ‘I’ve only visited once, on a private tour, but I’m certain I remember—’

A Buzzer appeared before he could finish. In this confined space, it looked even larger, a whirlwind of talons and teeth and unblinking white eyes. Terebell sidestepped out of its way and slashed, but it evaded the blow and dived towards Errai and Arcturus. They both avoided it, just as four more Buzzers stalked into the passage. Without hesitating, I threw out pressure. Mistry flinched away, his nose bleeding, while Nick grimaced. I tried to bend the force away from them, but it was difficult. It radiated from my dreamscape, surrounding me.

The sound of gunfire filled the crypt, followed by claws on a stone floor. Two Buzzers hurtled towards us. Without a word, Jaxon and I slid into the positions we had adopted during the last act of the scrimmage. Back to back, we brought our gifts to bear against the Buzzers – me using my own pressure, Jaxon wielding his poltergeists, creating a wall of powerful apport. When his Buzzer pushed closer, I spun and joined my strength to his, forcing the creature back.

The Buzzer opened its cavernous mouth. At once, Herne the Hunter was sucked towards the black hole in its head. I put three bullets in its throat, hoping to distract it, to no avail.

‘Herne.’ Jaxon clenched his fist, red seeping between his knuckles. ‘Fall back, Richard Herne.’

‘Arcturus, seal any cold spots,’ Terebell ordered. ‘The rest of you, fan out and search the tombs.’

Jaxon was starting to sweat again. No voyant was immune to this clotting in the æther.

‘Caterina Sforza io ti invoco,’ Mistry shouted. ‘Ti invoco, Caterina Sforza!’

Another poltergeist was suddenly bouncing around the place like a pinball. My pendant deflected it, knocking it into the Buzzer, which let go of Herne.

‘I’m going to help Arcturus,’ I told Jaxon. ‘Hold any others off at the stairs.’