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His dark eyes are captured in shadow, his face a cythraul taunt.

‘Berith!’ he cries. ‘Do my work!’ and Julian raises the dagger high.

The rumble comes again. This time it is louder, deafening in its intensity. It is a sound heavy and resonant that reverberates right down to the soles of Linette’s feet and makes Julian pause, makes the Order’s chants dwindle, for this time it does not come from within the circle.

It comes from outside. It comes from above.

‘What is it?’ Linette hears Lady Pennant cry. ‘What is it?’

Something falls from the stone ceiling, clatters at their feet. The hard clout of a stone hits Linette’s shoulder and she cries out. Another clatter to her left, another deafening rumble. There is a sharp exhale, a grunt, as it happens again and again, until, suddenly, like rain, the cavernous ceiling above them begins to fall, and the Order start to scream.

‘It’s the mine!’ Henry shouts over the din. ‘Linette we must move, we must—’

A larger rock falls to her right. She feels the rush of air, hears the thud of stone on flesh, the sharp cry of pain. Lady Selwyn, is it? It makes Linette jump – she lets go of Henry’s hand, and in her panic she loses him in the dark.

The stench of sulphur is so strong! Desperately she holds on to the branch of gorse, looks for the candlelit passage, a safe path toward it. But, no good. The cavern is collapsing, hunks of stone bar the way. Another rock falls in a shower of dust and Linette recognises the voice of Mr Lambeth as he cries out for help.

With no way forward Linette spins, retreats further back into the temple, but she can barely see; all she can do is hear. The screams around her are high and desperate, the sound of collapsing stone hard and quaking, and Linette gasps back her tears.

‘Henry!’

‘Linette!’

Suddenly a hand clamps onto her, clubbed fingertips pressing hard into her wrist. Linette can feel his sour breath on her face.

‘You won’t escape me,’ Julian rasps. ‘You won’t escape him!’

‘No!’ As hard as she can Linette thrusts him from her, and in that terrible moment she hears the deafening rumble of stone, the sickening crunch of bone, Julian’s strangled scream of pain. ‘Julian,’ she whispers, and for the briefest moment her fear gives way to shock as she glimpses the flash of a gold ring on outstretched fingers, reaching, reaching, reaching …

‘Henry!’ Linette cries. ‘Where are you?!’

They find each other by accident, a fumbled clash in the dark.

‘The passage is blocked,’ she sobs into his shoulder. ‘We need to find another way out.’

‘There must be one,’ he answers with panting breath. ‘How did you get here?’

Plas Helyg’s fireplace flashes into her mind’s eye, but then there is another crash of stone, an answering scream. Henry presses Linette’s hand.

‘Rowena.’ Like Linette he sounds desperate, frightened. ‘Where is Rowena?’

‘I don’t know!’

‘Rowena?’ Henry spins around, dragging Linette with him, staring blindly into the darkness. ‘Rowena!’ he shouts, and suddenly Miss Carew is upon them, pulling at their sleeves.

‘This way,’ she says, and Henry cries out in relief. ‘I’ve found a way out.’

Miss Carew leads them to the stone throne. Linette hears the faint rush of silk, realises the curtain she saw behind it was a doorway itself, and they find themselves now in a narrow tunnel. It is even darker here, darker than the cavern they have just left. Behind her the mine continues its devastating collapse and Linette can feel the repercussions beneath her feet. On they go, the only sounds the rumbling cavern behind her, the scuff of dirt, the heave of their panicked breath.

The tunnel smells of drier earth now, the scent of Plas Helyg’s woodland in spring when Penhelyg’s fauna grows anew. Linette wonders how deeply underground they are as Henry pulls her behind him, and as the beating of her heart settles into a steadier pulse she finds herself wondering too about the people they have left behind. Has anyone found a way out? But the screams she heard were too terrible, the sounds of falling rock too final.

None of this, none of it, seems real.

The tunnel has narrowed, the ceiling becomes lower. There is silence behind them now, and a sob catches harshly in Linette’s throat.

A cold sort of damp fills the air. Minutes have begun to stretch, leaving Linette with the feeling they are running further and further from help. Surely they should have reached the house by now? But this is a darkness deeper than any dark Linette has ever known. She bites her lip, concentrates on the echo of Henry’s boots.

The echo of Henry’s boots …