Will gazed up at the arching roof of the cavern above them. 'You know, by now we must nearly be under the High Street.' Peering into the windows and soaking up the strangeness of the ancient shops, they kept walking, driven by their careless curiosity until they came to a place where the tunnel split into three. The centre fork appeared to descend into the earth at a marked angle. 'Right, that's it,' Chester said resolutely. 'We're not going to get lost down here.' All his instincts were screaming that they should turn back. 'All right,' Will agreed, 'but – '
He was just stepping off the pavement on to the cobbled road when there was an ear-splitting crash of iron on stone. In a blinding flash, four white horses bore down on him, sparks spraying from their hooves, breathing hard and pulling behind them a sinister black coach. Will didn't have time to react, as that very instant they were both yanked off their feet and hoisted into the air by the scruffs of their necks.
A single man held them both, dangling helplessly, in his huge gnarled hands. 'Interlopers!' the man shouted, his voice fierce and gravelly as he lifted the pair up to his face and inspected them with a look of repugnance. Will tried to bring his spade up to beat him off, but it was wrestled from his grip. Will caught sight of a five-pointed star of orange-gold material stitched into the man's coat. Their massive, menacing captor was clearly some sort of policeman.
'Help,' Chester mouthed silently at his friend, his voice deserting him as they were buffeted about in the man's vice-like grip. 'We've been expecting you,' the man rumbled. 'Put me down!' Will tried to swivel around, kicking out at the man. 'No use wriggling.' The man hoisted the struggling boy even higher in the air. In sheer desperation, Chester tried to head-butt the man. He jerked his face away, but not before Chester, with a wild swing of his arm, had swiped his helmet.
But Will hardly noticed any of this. His attention had been seized by a tall, thin individual standing beside a lamp-post, whose hard face was set atop a stark white collar and long, dark coat that reflected the light as if it was made from polished leather. He stood out strikingly from the squat people about him, his shoulders slightly bent over like a highly strung bow. His whole being emanated evil and his dark eyes never left Will's, who felt a wave of dread wash over him.