The Claws of Evil - By Andrew Beasley Page 0,14

he didn’t draw attention to himself. He might just as well shout “Here I am, come and get me!” she thought. He really doesn’t have a clue what he’s facing.

Whether Ben Kingdom was the Hand or not, it was vital that the Legion didn’t get their claws into him. They feared the Hand of Heaven more than they feared the might of the British Army, and if they even suspected that this scruffy East End kid might be the one who would bring about their downfall, they would stamp out his life without a second thought.

Lucy glanced down into the street and saw Jago Moon signalling to her. She read his hand gestures: Two Legionnaires, advancing fast from the river end of the street.

Shut up, Ben! she thought with increasing annoyance, as in the room beneath her the last hope for the Watchers continued to struggle with the simple task of opening a window. Quickly, Lucy skidded down the slope of tiles until she was balanced on the guttering, where she could get a better look at her enemy. Moon was right; she could see the disturbance in the snow around the manhole cover where they had emerged from the sewers like the rats they were. Two sets of tracks leading into the shadows.

Lucy liked Mr. Moon. He was fierce. He was strict. He terrified the younger ones and he enjoyed nothing better than a good fight. In many ways, he reminded Lucy of herself.

She stood poised, the wind tossing her long blonde hair around her slender face, waiting for the order from Moon to either hold her ground or move forward to engage.

Attack! signalled Moon and Lucy felt the rush of adrenaline as she sprinted across the rooftop; as nimble as a cat, and more than happy to use her claws.

Ben’s pounding became more insistent, his hands throbbing with inner fire.

His brother Nathaniel started to stir.

His father was rousing.

The window gave way to a final push, and Arctic wind filled the room, bringing with it a swarm of snowflakes like angry wasps. Benjamin ignored their icy stings as he scrambled his way up onto the windowsill.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jonas Kingdom mumbled, groggy with sleep.

Ben didn’t have time to answer; he had his feet on the window ledge, his arms bracing himself in the frame. He had to see.

Craning his neck, he caught a flurry of movement behind and above him. For a fraction of a second, Ben made out a figure standing beside the chimney pot. Then it was gone, running along the ridge of the roof with remarkable agility, before dropping down onto a lower roof and out of sight.

Inside the room his father and brother were both grumbling at him.

Ben sighed in resignation. As always he had some explaining to do.

The Legion scouts realized they had been spotted.

As soon as Jago Moon started to tap tap tap down the Lane towards them with his cane, Captain Mickelwhite knew it was their signal to leave. At his side, John Bedlam cracked his knuckles and made to rush the old man, but Mickelwhite reined him in with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Steady, John,” said Mickelwhite, dragging him back under cover. “We choose our fights, remember? Strike when we are ready, hit hard when we know we can win,” he reasoned at a whisper.

“Yeah, well I’m ready now,” snarled Bedlam. “It’s about time that annoying old geezer got what was comin’ to him.”

Mickelwhite controlled his own emotions, since his partner was clearly incapable of controlling his. He pointed upwards and Bedlam followed his gaze. The other Watcher was on the move as well, almost dancing across the roof towards them.

“It’s Scarface,” hissed Bedlam, catching sight of the livid wound that split the girl’s face in two.

“Come on,” urged Mickelwhite, heading back towards the manhole and the safety of the sewers. “We need to report in.”

“Another time then, beautiful,” Bedlam whispered to himself with a final lingering look at the Watcher girl. Then he dragged the metal cover back into place over their heads, locked it tight, and they both descended the ladder into the hidden world of the Legion; down into the Under.

“Benjamin!” Jonas Kingdom barked, slamming the window and shutting out the storm. “What the hell are you playing at, boy? Some of us have got to work in a few hours.”

Nathaniel gave him a look that was part smile, part pity, and then rolled over, his back to him. Jonas returned to his own