They had arrived at Web Street in the western district. The impressive buildings of Western University ran along the entire length of the street, on both sides. The school was four storeys high, and from a few of its tall windows light spilled onto the cobbles. Samuel set off without a word, following the compass in his hand. Clara adjusted the satchel strap on her shoulder and caught up with him. The black tram remained where it was.

'I take it you've done this kind of thing before?' she asked, struggling to keep up with him.

'Once or twice,' Samuel replied. 'Wild demons did exist prior to the Genii War, Clara. But they were much rarer. Before they found a better home in the Retrospective, they lurked in the Nothing of Far and Deep and, occasionally, they would sneak into Labrys Town. They liked to hide in the cargo imported from one House or another. The Relic Guild would hunt them down. Nowadays, it's a job for the police.'

'But we don't want the police involved this time,' Clara said.

'No. It is no ordinary wild demon that has Charlie Hemlock.'

'The Orphan,' Clara whispered. She stopped walking as nerves fluttered in her stomach again. Samuel disappeared into an alley that cut through the school building to the left. She hurried to catch up with him.

'Some demons are more intelligent than others,' he continued. 'The Orphan, though no less a monster, is a demon of habit and purpose. And this isn't its first visit to Labrys Town. This way ...'

He led Clara out of the alley and into a large square recreational courtyard, with benches around the outskirts and a pillar of eyes at the centre. As they headed towards a gate on the opposite side, Samuel explained further.

'Back in the old days, Marney and I encountered the Orphan at a house in the eastern district.'

Clara swore under her breath. The east side of Labrys Town was mostly a residential area, full of families – mothers, fathers, children – and she shuddered to think of a demon lurking among them.

'There were reports from the east side of missing people, random bouts of violent psychosis – all the signs of a wild demon's presence. The Resident sent us to investigate. We found the Orphan and the family it had stored for food.'

'Food?' Clara was repulsed.

'The Orphan feeds on blood, and it takes a long time harvesting what it likes to eat. But to Marney and me it was just a wayward demon that needed sending home.'

'Why didn't you just kill it?'

Samuel gave Clara a quick glance, before saying, 'I'm not even sure it's possible to kill a wild demon, Clara. Not really. Magic can affect them mentally, but not physically. The best you can hope for is to disrupt its connection to this realm, stamp on its fingers so it loses its grip, so to speak.' He gave her another quick look. 'But to do that, you have to get close, within touching distance. Point blank trauma to the head usually works.'

'Usually ...?'

Samuel carried on through the gate, out of the courtyard, and into the school gardens. Clara stuck close to him.

The smell of flowers and freshly cut grass filled her nostrils. In the light of Silver Moon, she could see the silhouettes of trees, boughs full of leaves. She followed the old bounty hunter down a stone path that cut through the gardens.

'So how did you get rid of it last time?' she asked.

'Marney,' he replied. 'She wasn't very experienced back then, but she somehow managed to convince the Orphan to go back to whatever sanctuary it came from. And it ... just did as it was told – a simplification, but that sums it up. As you've learnt, Clara, Marney can form an emotional bond with whomever she touches with her magic.'

Samuel stopped suddenly and looked up at the night sky. 'But I honestly never believed she could form such a strong connection with the Orphan as to actually summon it back from the Retrospective like she did tonight.'

'But she did,' Clara said, 'and now it has Hemlock.'

'Yes.'

'Then let me get this straight – we don't have an empath to control the Orphan, we can't kill it, and we have to be within touching distance to send it home. Please tell me you have a plan.'

'Of sorts,' Samuel replied. 'By summoning the Orphan, Marney has bought Hemlock – and us – some time ... What's wrong?'

A scent on the breeze had jolted Clara away from the conversation. She sniffed the air and caught an aroma that carried a salty, rusty taste.

'I can smell blood,' she whispered.

Samuel checked the spirit compass, and then looked straight ahead.

At the end of the stone path was a Church of the Timewatcher. Warm light glowed through stained glass windows onto the grass of the gardens. It looked peaceful enough, but the building gave Clara a bad feeling. Unintelligible voices came from within, desperate, fearful, angry—

The doors to the church burst open and a small figure ran into the gardens, screaming. It was an altar boy. His white smock was stained with blood, black under the light of Silver Moon. His face was covered with small cuts and creased with panic. He ran, wailing, directly towards Clara and Samuel.

Clara made to help the boy, but Samuel gripped her arm and pulled her into the shadow of a tree.

'The boy isn't our concern,' he growled into her ear. 'Stay focused.'

Clara swallowed as the altar boy ran past them. She didn't know whether to feel disgusted at Samuel's resolve or terrified.

The old man headed doggedly towards the church, and Clara followed. They approached the door, and Samuel drew them to a halt. Someone was shouting – a man. Samuel opened the door a crack and took a peek into the church. Then he opened the door wide. He and Clara stood on the threshold, witnesses to a grim scene.

Another altar boy lay dead at their feet, his throat cut and his limbs twisted. On either side of him, a few denizens sat on rows of bench seats. Initially there to listen to the early morning sermons that gave thanks to Silver Moon, these denizens now rocked back and forth like simpletons, drooling and murmuring as though drugged.

'Demon sign,' Samuel whispered.

At the front of the church, a priest stood before the altar with his back to Clara and Samuel. His arms were outstretched, encompassing a stained glass window that depicted the Timewatcher – a purple cloud with a golden sun burning at its centre - as She banished Spiral, the Lord of the Genii - a shapeless mass of poison shadow - to the depths of Oldest Place. The priest's black cassock was dirty and torn.

'There is no afterlife,' he shouted. 'Our souls will never be delivered to the paradise of Mother Earth and the loving arms of the Timewatcher. For She has abandoned Her children in the Labyrinth!'

The priest turned to face Clara and Samuel revealing blood on his hands and more smeared over his face. Clara fought the urge to gag. It looked as though the priest had clawed his own eyes out.

Beside Clara, Samuel drew his revolver from his leg holster. The power stone whined as he thumbed it, and began to glow.

'We live in a festering shit-hole!' the priest screamed. 'We are mere crops, food to feed the hunger of demons.' He began stumbling towards the agents. 'Our souls are already condemned. The Retrospective awaits us—'

Samuel's pistol flashed. He shot the priest in the chest. There was a moaning like bitter wind, and the flames of candles on the altar fluttered and died to swirls of smoke. The priest dropped to his knees and his body hardened to ice.

Samuel walked further down the aisle.

Clara stepped over the dead altar boy, but was reluctant to go any further. The few denizens sitting on the rows of benches seemed unaware of what had occurred, and continued to rock and drool mindlessly. Clara watched them and struggled to catch her breath.

'Clara,' Samuel said. 'The police can clean up this mess, and they'll probably be here soon. Now come on!'

The strength in his voice gave her a little mettle. She skipped around the frozen priest and joined the old bounty hunter beside a door behind the altar. He opened the door to reveal a shadowed stairwell leading down.