Mucum flared up. “You don’t get it, do yer? The roots are thirsty; they suck up water from way, way down and when this baby blows” — Mucum pointed at the shaft that Ark was climbing into — “it hits over a hundred in seconds flat. You’ll be shot straight like a cork from a bottle. When your little stick body slams into that roof … SPLAT! I don’t wanna be the one sweeping bits of yer insides into the sewers.”

“Then don’t,” said Ark as he disappeared over the edge. “No one saw you. You’re not in trouble. Go home.”

“Why me, Diana?” implored Mucum, wondering if the Goddess even took notice of an insignificant sewage worker. “I had a nice little earner going, a job for life until Malikum came along and ruined it all! It’s not fair!” he ranted. But despite the complaining, being confronted by homicidal rodents and chased by sword-swinging soldiers, if he was being honest, he was having the time of his life! Mucum reached for the top rung. “Wait for me!” he shouted, his voice echoing into the depths.

The rungs were solid enough, though crusty with oxide and slimy from the constant damp in the air. After the first few steps, Ark settled into the rhythm, ignoring the heavy breathing above him. If Mucum wanted to follow, that was his business.

“Yer not sulkin’?” Mucum gasped after a few minutes.

“No.” Ark was secretly glad not to be alone, but he wasn’t going to let on.

The echoes of their grunts bounced off the dripping, trickling walls.

Mucum found the going slow, worried any moment that the spindly rungs would snap under his weight. “Wait up, will yer?”

Ark was twenty feet below, scampering down the ladder like a spider. He paused and looked up, his eyes catching the dimming reflection of the gas lamps. “You were the one worried about the tide!”

“Don’t get clever with me!”

Ark waited, allowing Mucum to catch up. There was a reason why he’d stopped. Stepping off into the shaft was bad enough, but at least they had light to see by. But now the shaft descended into a blankness, the ladder vanishing as if it were a drawing rubbed out at one end.

“Can’t go on,” said Ark. His arms and legs were soldered to the ladder. In Arborium, there was always light, whether it was moon, sun, gas, candle, or lamp. It was a world of shadows, constantly shifting and moving. This dark beneath them spread like an endless cruck pool.

“Yeah, you can!” Mucum’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “Close yer eyes, mate, and jes’ listen to me, right. It’s one rung at a time. Think of Shiv. She’d be loving this!”

Ark kept his eyes tightly closed, picturing his sister’s beaming smile. For her, this would be the best adventure in the whole wide-wood. His foot twitched, unfreezing.