The rat had found a way through, so he knew the barrier was not impassable. Reaching it, he began pulling away the rubble.

Smiles nudged the child ahead of her. 'Go on,' she murmured, 'keep going. Not far now.' She could still hear the girl's sniffles – not crying, not yet, anyway, just the dust, so much dust now, with those people crawling ahead. Behind her, small hands touched her blistered feet again and again, lancing vicious stabs of pain up her legs, but she bit back on it, making no outcry. Damned brat don't know any better, does he? And why they got such big eyes, looking up like that?

Like starving puppies. 'Keep crawling, little one. Not much farther…'

The child behind her, a boy, was helping Tavos Pond, whose face was wrapped in bloody bandages. Koryk was right behind them. Smiles could hear the half-Seti, going on and on with some kind of chant. Probably the only thing keeping the fool from deadly panic. He liked his open savannah, didn't he. Not cramped, twisting tunnels.

None of this bothered her. She'd known worse. Times, long ago, she'd lived in worse. You learned to only count on what's in reach, and so long as the way ahead stayed clear, there was still hope, still a chance.

If only this brat of a girl wouldn't keep stopping. Another nudge. 'Go on, lass. Not much more, you'll see…'

Gesler pulled himself along in pitch darkness, hearing Tulip's heavy grunts ahead of him, Crump's maddening singing behind him. The huge soldier whose bare feet Gesler's outstretched hands kept touching was having a hard time, and the sergeant could feel the smears of blood Tulip left behind as he squeezed and pulled himself through the narrow, twisting passage. Thick gasps, coughing – no, not coughing'Abyss take us, Tulip,' Gesler hissed, 'what's so funny?'

'Tickling,' the man called back. 'You. Keep. Tickling. My. Feet.'

'Just keep moving, you damned fool!'

Behind him, Crump's idiotic song continued.

'and I says oh I says them marsh trees got soft feet, and moss beards all the way down and they sway in the smelly breeze from that swamp water all yella'n brown oh we was in the froggy toady dawn belly-down in the leeches and collectin spawn 'cause when you give those worms a squeeze the blue pinky ropes come slimin downand don't they taste sweet! and don't they taste sweet! sweet as peat, oh yes sweet as peat-'

Gesler wanted to scream, like someone up ahead was doing. Scream, but he couldn't summon the breath – it was all too close, too fetid, the once cool sliding air rank with sweat, urine and Hood knew what else.

Truth's face kept coming back to him, rising in his mind like dread accusation. Gesler and Stormy, they'd pulled the recruit through so much since the damned rebellion. Kept him alive, showed him the ways of staying alive in this Hood-cursed world.

And what does he do? He runs into a burning palace. With a half-dozen cussers on his back. Gods, he was right on one thing, though, the fire couldn't take him – he went, way in, and that's what's saved us… so far. Blew that storm back. Saved us…

Soldiers all round him were blistered, burned. They coughed with every breath drawn into scorched lungs. But not me. He could sense that godling, within that firestorm. Could sense it, a child raging with the knowledge that it was going to die all too soon. Good, you don't deserve nothing more. Fire couldn't hurt him, but that didn't mean he had to kneel before it in prayer, did it? He didn't ask for any of this. Him and Stormy and Truth – only, Truth was dead, now. He'd never expected…

'and I says oh I says that ole bridge got feeta stone, and mortar white as bone and the badgers dangle from the ledge swingin' alla day alla way home oh we was pullin vines from you know where and stuffin our ears with sweety sweet loam jus t'get them badgers flyin' outa there inta them cook pots in the hearthy homeand don't they taste sweet! and don't they taste sweet! sweet as peat, oh yes sweet as peat-'

When he got out of here, he was going to wring Crump's scrawny neck.

High Marshal? Gods below 'and I says oh I says that warlock's tower-'

Corporal Tarr pulled on Balgrid's arms, ignoring the man's squeals.

How the mage had managed to stay fat through that endless march was baffling. And now, all too likely to prove deadly. Mind you, fat could be squeezed, when muscled bulk couldn't. That was something, at least.

Balgrid shrieked as Tarr dragged him through the crevasse. 'You're tearing my arms off!'

'You plug up here, Balgrid,' Tarr said, 'and Urb behind you's gonna take out his knife-'

A muted voice from the huge man behind Balgrid: 'Damn right. I'll joint you like a pig, mage. I swear it.'

The darkness was the worst of all – never mind the spiders, the scorpions and centipedes, it was the darkness that clawed and chewed on Tarr's sanity. At least Bottle had a rat's eyes to look through.

Rats could see in the dark, couldn't they? Then again, maybe they couldn't. Maybe they just used their noses, their whiskers, their ears. Maybe they were too stupid to go insane.

Or they're already insane. We're being led by an insane rat'I'm stuck again, oh gods! I can't move!'

'Stop yelling,' Tarr said, halting and twisting round yet again.

Reaching out for the man's arms. 'Hear that, Balgrid?'

'What? What?'

'Not sure. Thought I heard Urb's knives coming outa their sheaths.'

The mage heaved himself forward, kicking, clawing.

'You stop moving again,' Balm snarled to the child in front of him, ' and the lizards will get you. Eat you alive. Eat us all alive. Those are crypt lizards, you damned whelp. You know what crypt lizards do?

I'll tell you what they do. They eat human flesh. That's why they're called crypt lizards, only they don't mind if it's living flesh-'

'For Hood's sake!' Deadsmell growled behind him. 'Sergeant – that ain' t the way-'

'Shut your mouth! He's still moving, ain't he? Oh yes, ain't he just.

Crypt lizards, runt! Oh yes!'

'Hope you ain't nobody's uncle, Sergeant.'

'You're getting as bad as Widdershins, Corporal, with that babbling mouth of yours. I want a new squad-'

'Nobody'll have you, not after this-'

'You don't know nothing, Deadsmell.'

'I know if I was that child ahead of you, I'd shit right in your face.'

'Quiet! You give him ideas, damn you! Do it, boy, and I'll tie you up, oh yes, and leave you for the crypt lizards-'

'Listen to me, little one!' Deadsmell called out, his voice echoing. '

Them crypt lizards, they're about as long as your thumb! Balm's just being a-'

'I'm going to skewer you, Deadsmell. I swear it!'

Corabb Bhilan Thenu'alas dragged himself forward. The Malazan in his wake was gasping – the only indication that the man still followed.

They had managed to drop one of the copper panels over the pit, burning their hands – bad burns, the pain wouldn't go away – Corabb's palms felt like soft wax, pushed out of shape by the stones they gripped, the ledges they grasped.

He had never felt such excruciating pain before. He was sheathed in sweat, his limbs trembling, his heart hammering like a trapped beast in his chest.

Pulling himself through a narrow space, he sank down onto what seemed to be the surface of a street, although his head scraped stone rubble above. He slithered forward, gasping, and heard the sergeant slip down after him.

Then the ground shook, dust pouring down thick as sand. Thunder, one concussion after another, pounding down from above. A rush of searing hot air swept over them from behind. Smoke, dust'Forward!' Strings screamed. 'Before the ceiling goes-'