'Well, you ain't in Mott any more, Crump. And you ain't Jamber Bole either. You're Crump, and you better get used to it.'
A voice from behind Bottle: 'Did he say Mott Irregulars?'
Bottle turned, nodded at Strings. 'Aye, Sergeant.'
'Gods below, who recruited him?'
Shrugging, Bottle studied Strings for a moment. Koryk and Tarr had carried him to just within the nave's entrance, and the sergeant was leaning against a flanking pillar, the wounded leg stretched out in front of him, his face pale. 'I better get to that-'
'No point, Bottle – the walls are going to explode – you can feel the heat, even from this damned pillar. It's amazing there's air in here…' His voice fell away, and Bottle saw his sergeant frown, then lay both hands palm-down on the tiles. 'Huh.'
'What is it?'
'Cool air, coming up from between the tiles.'
Crypts? Cellars? But that would be dead air down there.. 'I'll be back in a moment, Sergeant,' he said, turning and heading towards the cracked altar. A pool of water steamed just beyond. He could feel that wind, now, the currents rising up from the floor. Halting, he settled down onto his hands and knees.
And sent his senses downward, seeking life-sparks.
Down, through layers of tight-packed rubble, then, movement in the darkness, the flicker of life. Panicked, clambering down, ever down, the rush of air sweeping past slick fur – rats. Fleeing rats.
Fleeing. Where? His senses danced out, through the rubble beneath, brushing creature after creature. Darkness, sighing streams of air.
Smells, echoes, damp stone…
'Everyone!' Bottle shouted, rising. 'We need to break through this floor! Whatever you can find – we need to bash through!'
They looked at him as if he'd gone mad.
'We dig down! This city – it's built on ruins! We need to find a way down – through them – damn you all – that air is coming from somewhere!'
'And what are we?' Cord demanded. 'Ants?'
'There's rats, below – I looked through their eyes – I saw! Caverns, caves – passages!'
'You did what?' Cord advanced on him.
'Hold it, Cord!' Strings said, twisting round where he sat. 'Listen to him. Bottle – can you follow one of those rats? Can you control one?'