"How did you find yourself in the Catacombs?" Corvus said.

Surprise flickered across Ward's face. It was common knowledge that Ward had been trespassing in the Temple, but few knew the Catacombs even existed.

"I found something down there," he said, ignoring the question. "A tomb."

"The whole place is a tomb," Corvus said.

"Have you ever been down there?" Carmen said.

"Once. Long ago."

"This one was different," Ward said. "It was a stone box. There was something written on the lid."

"Non sit alius deus in machinatione," Corvus murmured.

"That's it!" Ward said. "What language is that?"

"A very ancient one. It had fallen out of use even before the coming of the virus."

"What does it mean?" Ward said.

"There is no god in machines."

"That sounds like one of the Principles," Carmen said. "Thou shalt not worship mechanical idols." Like all schoolkids, the Principles had been drummed into her from a young age.

"Very good," Corvus said. "It's the same one – the wording has changed over time, that's all. It was the First Principle of Hattoism in the early days. Now it's considered less important."

"So whoever's in that tomb would be an early Hattoist?" Ward said.

"Oh certainly," Corvus said.

"Could have been one of his followers," Carmen said.

"Perhaps," Corvus said. "But I suspect it's Hatto himself."

Shocked silence from Carmen and Ward.

"That's not possible," Carmen managed to say. "When Hatto was killed by his son he ascended to Abaddon. Everyone knows that. He didn't leave a body behind – nothing."

"The early Hattoists believed nothing of the sort," Corvus said. "That myth developed later."

"I knew it had to be someone important," Ward said, his voice quiet and dazed. "Just from the way they were acting."

"Do you understand now why it's forbidden to go there?" Corvus said. "And why you're lucky to be alive? But you still haven't answered my question."

To his credit, Ward didn't pretend not to know which question Corvus was referring to. "I just went down there," he said.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"I could think of some good reasons. No doubt you could yourself."

"I was stupid," Ward said, looking down at his hands. "With Nick gone I -"

"Felt you needed to prove yourself?"

Ward nodded at his hands.

"You could have chosen a slightly less suicidal way to do it."

Carmen couldn't tell if Corvus bought the story. She noticed that Ludwig, who usually only had eyes for Grim, had been watching Ward closely the whole time.

Corvus turned to Carmen. "How is your grandmere?" he said, as if Ward's tale had barely held his interest.

"Oh. Um. Not good."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Mr Corvus. Is there – isn't there anything we can do for her?"

He pursed his lips, and shook his head slowly. "Even the ancients, with all their wondrous arts, could not treat that condition. I'm afraid she will never get better. She will have her good days, but they'll become fewer and fewer. And one day she will fall into a sleep from which she will not wake."

"What if there's a cure – somewhere else?" Ward said.

"What do you mean?" Corvus said.

" In another world."

"The Old One's visions are just that, Ward. Visions."

"They're not real?"

"I didn't say that."

"What if you could though? You know, cross over?"

"It would be perilous."

"That's what she said too." Ward frowned.

Carmen had been thinking hard. "Did the scientists do this?" she said now. "The ones you told us about? That made the Dolittlers and the Reversers?

If you don't like revelations this chapter is going to suck for you.