Lungdon

The delightfully macabre, astonishingly original trilogy reaches its thrilling conclusion.

The dirt town of Foulsham has been destroyed, its ashes still smoldering. Darkness lies heavily over the city, the sun has not come up for days, and inside the houses of people throughout the capital, ordinary objects have begun to move. Strange new people run through the darkened streets. There are rumours of a terrible contagion. From the richest mansion to the poorest slum people have disappeared. The police have been instructed to carry arms. And rats—there are rats everywhere.

Someone has stolen a certain plug. Someone is lighting a certain box of matches. All will come tumbling down. The Iremongers are in London.