If Harold was expecting an end-of-feature-film effect of earthquake shaking, statue crashing, temple falling effects he was sadly disappointed. One moment the rift was there and the next it was gone, just a blank wall where a moment ago had been a glimpse into the acres of the Land of the Dead. On this side of the wall workers looked up, startled at the sudden disappearance of their source material. They got out of their chairs, looking for the rift as if it had fallen behind one of the desks. Eventually, one of them noticed Harold's group and pointed.
Gillian put Lucy on the floor and extended her claws, each one three inches long and more Wolverine than wolf. She raised an eyebrow. “Fight or flight?”
“They look human.”
“They're not.” Dill/Sam cast about for a weapon and settled on prising a fluorescent tube from its socket. Ten out of ten for style, Harold thought, but zero for practicality. “Their spirits have already been extracted for use in the golems and the bodies are possessed by those wiggly demons.”
“I thought we'd got all those?” Harold shrugged. “Best you wake up Lucy again, darling. She's got Legionnaires to subdue.”
“I wonder.” Jasfoup passed Harold his sword cane again. “What should we call the demons now they're no longer part of Legion?”
Harold shrugged. “Lucy-loos?”