Book Two in the madcap time-travel series based at the St Mary's Institute of Historical Research that seems to be everyone's cup of tea. In the second book in the Chronicles of St Mary's series, Max and the team visit Victorian London in search of Jack the Ripper, witness the murder of Archbishop Thomas A Becket in Canterbury Cathedral, and discover that dodos make a grockling noise when eating cucumber sandwiches. But they must also confront an enemy intent on destroying St Mary's—an enemy willing, if necessary, to destroy History itself to do it.
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One of the best things about our job is that if you live long enough, you get to choose your last jump.
One of the worst things about our job is that, so far, no one has lived long enough to get to choose their last jump.
The last jump is supposed to be a quiet reward – the chance to enjoy a favourite moment in history – to visit Agincourt perhaps, or see Antony and Cleopatra floating down the Nile, or to hear Elizabeth I addressing the troops at Tilbury. To witness some epoch-making event of your choice. To fulfil a lifelong ambition.
In short, it’s supposed to be enjoyable.
It is not supposed to be a whirling nightmare of blood and pain and terror.
It is not supposed to be about savage butchery, mutilation, beheading, and having half your face ripped off.
It is not supposed to be about dying in a blood-drenched pod, trapped with a monster and no way out.
It is not supposed to be about the paralysing horror of seeing your best friend ripped open to the bone and having to put her out of her pain.
It is not supposed to be about being abandoned and never seeing the sun again.
It’s not supposed to be about any of that.