Midnight Tides & The Bonehunters - By Steven Erikson Page 0,507

were like that, on occasion. She never used to believe that, but now she had no choice. They could surprise you.

The child behind Smiles was climbing over her, all elbows and knees and running, drippy, smearing nose. It smelled, too. Smelled bad. Awful things, children. Needy, self-centred tyrants, the boys all teeth and fists, the girls all claws and spit. Gathering into snivelling packs and sniffing out vulnerabilities – and woe to the child not cunning enough to hide their own – the others would close in like the grubby sharks they were. Great pastime, savaging someone.

If these runts are the only ones here who survive, I will haunt them. Every one of them, for the rest of their days. 'Look,' she snarled after an elbow in the nose, 'just get your smelly slimy hide out of my face! Go on, you little ape!'

A voice from behind her: 'Easy there. You was a child once, you know—'

'You don't know nothing about me, so shut it!'

'What, you was hatched? Hah! I believe it! Along with all the other snakes!'

'Yeah, well, whoever you are, don't even think of climbing past me.'

'And get that close? Not a chance.'

She grunted. 'Glad we're understood, then.'

If there was no way through – they'd all lose their minds. No doubt of that at all. Well, at least she had a couple knives left – anybody fool enough to come for her and they'd pay.

The children were squirming through – even as Cuttle dug into the floor with the knife – and then huddling on the other side. Weeping, clinging to each other, and Bottle's heart cried out for them. They would have to find courage, but for the moment, there seemed to be no hope of that.

Cuttle's grunts and gasps, then his curse as he broke the knife's point – not very promising sounds. Ahead, the rat circled the edge of the pit, whiskers twitching at the flow of warm air coming from the shaft. She could climb round to the other side, and Bottle was willing the creature to do so – yet it seemed his control was weakening, for the rat was resisting, her head tilted over the edge of the pit, claws gripping the pocked side, the air flowing up over her ...

Bottle frowned. From the shaft above, the air had been coming down. And from the pit, flowing up. Conjoining in the tunnel, then drifting towards the children.

But the rat ... that air from below. Warm, not cool. Warm, smelling of sunlight.

'Cuttle!'

The sapper halted. 'What?'

'We've got to get past this! That pit – its edges, they've been cut. That shaft, Cuttle, it's been mined, cut through – someone's dug into the side of the tel – there's no other possibility!'

The children's cries had ceased with Bottle's words. He went on, 'That explains this, don't you see? We ain't the first ones to use this tunnel – people have been mining the ruins, looking for loot—'

He could hear Cuttle moving about.

'What are you doing?'

'I'm gonna kick this block out of the way—'

'No, wait! You said—'

'I can't dig through the damned floor! I'm gonna kick this bastard outa the way!'

'Cuttle, wait!'

A bellow, then a heavy thump, dust and gravel streaming from above. A second thump, then thunder shook the floor, and the ceiling was raining down. Screams of terror through the dust-clouds. Ducking, covering his head as stones and sherds descended on him, Bottle squeezed his eyes shut – the dust, so bright—

Bright.

But he couldn't breathe – he could barely move beneath the weight of rubble atop him.

Muted yells from behind, but the terrible hiss of rubble had ceased.

Bottle lifted his head, gasping, coughing.

To see a white shaft of sunlight, dust-filled, cutting its way down. Bathing Cuttle's splayed legs, the huge foundation stone between them. 'Cuttle?'

A cough, then, 'Gods below, that damned thing – it came down between my legs – just missed my ... oh Hood take me, I feel sick—'

'Never mind that! There's light, coming down. Sunlight!'

'Call your rat back – I can't see ... how far up. I think it narrows. Narrows bad, Bottle.'

The rat was clambering over the children, and he could feel its racing heart.

'I see it – your rat—'

'Take her in your hands, help her into the shaft over you. Yes, there's daylight – oh, it's too narrow – I might make it, or Smiles maybe, but most of the others ...'

'You just dig when you're up there, make it wider, Bottle. We're too close, now.'

'Can the children get