"Everything about this place reeks of artifice," Sherral says, ignoring Eric's question. "The room of wool; the perfectly arranged automata, with war machines stood next to harmless amusements; the exit hatch that sat right by our entrance. Even the ruin of this place speaks to me of design, not accident."

He pauses, scuffing the ground with one shoe. "I'd warrant there has been no battle here, nor that anyone has ever lived in these buildings. It's a stage set up for our performance.

"The dead will show when it is their cue to do so."