“Mucum!” Ark gasped, ecstatic to see a familiar and friendly face.

“Do you want a hand?” Mucum leaned over the edge and grabbed hold of Ark’s forearm. “Yeurghhh!” His hand slipped and Ark briefly went under. “Ark!”

A bespattered head rose above the surface. “Not … dead … yet!” Ark spat out.

This time, as Ark paddled closer, Mucum knelt down and reached out both arms to grab hold of Ark’s body. The slurpy stuff wasn’t willing to give up its guest so easily. It was like pulling a stubborn carrot out of soil, but finally, with one last glop, Ark was heaved out onto the side.

“Eye, eye, what’s goin’ on ’ere, then?” Mucum peered at Ark’s swollen eye.

“Very funny,” Ark said, trying to catch his breath.

“I take it you weren’t successful in yer mission?” Mucum wiped his hands down his britches as if that would take away the smell.

Ark began shivering all over. “Worse than that. We’re really in the squit now. The guards are on their way. We have to run!”

“What? We only got ’ere ‘alf an hour ago and now you wanna leave? Wot’s a coupla guards? I can sort them, easy.” Mucum cracked his knuckles to show he meant business.

“Mucum, stop being thick! It’s not a few rats we’ve got to face but the whole of the King’s bodyguard, armed with swords.”

Mucum’s face went red. Nobody called him stupid, least of all this stinking stick insect. He should have known the boy was trouble the moment Ark started weeping all over him. Without thinking, his fist shot out, ready to black Ark’s other eye.

“Don’t!” Ark squealed as he ducked down.

“Blood and Diana!” swore Mucum as his punch impacted on a very solid wall. He hopped up and down, the agony in his hand finally bringing him to his senses. “Not thinking …,” he mumbled.

“Me, neither,” Ark admitted. Arguing wouldn’t save them. “Anyhow, forget it. We need to disappear.” His thoughts flew around like a whirlwind. At this very moment, they were right where the guards expected, in the sewers under the castle. He had to confound them, make them lose the trail. Suddenly, his one good eye lit up like a sap-sozzled firefly. This under-land was the place where engineers put all the gubbins that made a building work — sewers, gas pipes, mail tubes, and … waterworks.

Ark shook himself off like a dog. “We need to find a door with a porthole!”

“Do you mind?” said Mucum, as he was covered in spray. Now he knew how the miniature trees in the local park felt, being endlessly visited by dogs desperate to go.