Ruth hesitated a moment before following suit. She moved in close to Veitch. Lugh and a couple of the other Tuatha De Danann led the way cautiously, while the rest guarded the rear.
At the end of the platform, the black hole of the tunnel loomed up in the flickering torchlight; a mouth ready to swallow them, Ruth thought. Her skin grew cold as she stared into the darkness and she was overcome with a sudden premonition of a grave and none of them ever seeing the light again.
'What's that?' Her heart rattled frantically when she glimpsed a fleeting movement on the edge of the light.
Everyone froze. 'Didn't see anything,' Veitch whispered.
'There's definitely something there.' Her voice was taut.
Lugh had found some oily rags on the tracks, which he tied into a large knot and lit with his torch. He whirled it once round his head and hurled it along the tunnel in front. The shadows rushed fearfully along the arc of the tunnel, but what was caught in the light for the briefest moment made Ruth shudder.
A sea of rats were frozen in the sudden glare, from wall to wall and as far as the light carried, their eyes glittering coldly. The sickening tableau was there only for an instant. As the burning rag fell, they retreated frantically, one brown-furred mass, rippling sinuously, until a second later the entire area was clear. The sound of scratching on metal rails faded away down the tunnel.
'Good job we have light,' Veitch said. 'They're fierce little bastards when they're hungry or cornered. I wouldn't fancy our chances against them in the dark.'
'There were so many of them!'
'These tunnels were always infested. The whole city was. They used to say you were never more than three feet away from a rat. I expect it's worse now, with all the bodies and everything.'
The image conjured by Veitch's comment made Ruth sick. 'You know there's a danger some of the tunnels could be flooded,' she said, changing the subject. 'None of the pumps are working.'
'That's the least of our worries.'
'Do you think the Fomorii are down here?'
'They might use some of the tunnel system, but they'll be going about their business. They won't be looking out for us.'
Ruth thought about this for a moment. 'Are you sure? They've always been pretty smart in their planning. Second-guessing us, setting up all those backup plans if the main one didn't work. I know Calatin's gone, but there's always Mollecht and God knows what else-'
'Well, you be the bleedin' strategist, then.'
'I'm just offering an opinion. I'm allowed to speak, you know.'
'That's all you bleedin' well do.'
'Get lost.' She shoved him hard so he fell on to his injured ankle.
He cursed vehemently and turned, his face transformed by fury, his fists bunched. It was so terrifying she dropped the torch, which sputtered and fizzled but didn't go out.
'Give me that!'
'No!' She fended him off and snatched up the burning wood.
'If the torches go out we're screwed!'
'I know that!'
'Well, keep a hold of it then, you stupid-'
'What?' She rounded on him.
'Nothing.' He realised he'd overstepped the mark.
'What were you going to say?' Her voice was edgy and shrill.
'Come on.' He marched on ahead sheepishly. 'Don't do this here,' he said under his breath, 'not in front of them.'
'Who cares what they think?'
'I do.'
They continued in silence for several minutes while Ruth's seething temper calmed. Finally she said, 'You should see a therapist about all that repressed anger. The slightest thing and it comes bursting out.'
He wasn't going to answer, but then he said quietly, 'It never used to be a problem.'
'You've had it as long as I've known you. And let me tell you, it's a liability. You fly off the handle at the slightest thing and you stop thinking rationally-'
'All right.'
'We can't afford that-'
'I said all right!' He realised a second later that he'd done it again, but instead of apologising he speeded up his step until he caught up with Lugh and the point men.
They continued that way for half an hour, with Ruth wrapped in a shroud of loneliness, listening to the unforgiving echoes bounce crazily around, hinting at strangers nearby but never quite revealing anything. No one spoke; the atmosphere had grown more intense the further they progressed into the tunnels. Ruth couldn't shake the feeling there was some terrible threat lying in front of them, staying only a step or two ahead of the advancing torchlight.
Veitch kept his head down, but she could tell from his rigid shoulders that he was aware of her behind him. She wondered if she had been too harsh on him; the strain had been making her increasingly snappy. The niggle of guilt she felt told her it probably wasn't as one-sided as she had pretended. Veitch had performed an exemplary service; if only the stupid emotional side didn't keep getting in the way, she would be able to give him the wholehearted praise he really deserved.
As they passed through Archway station, the torchlight flared up over the tiled walls and a nagging doubt grew full-born. 'Where are the others?' she asked to no one in particular.
Veitch hesitated before turning round. 'Probably took a wrong turn somewhere,' he replied. Ruth thought he sounded a little abashed.
'With a whole army traipsing through here, you'd expect to hear some echoes. Wouldn't you?'
They all halted to listen. There was nothing at all; the air felt dead. 'Maybe they accidentally crossed over to the northbound tunnel,' Veitch suggested. 'Who knows? There might be a whole load of service tunnels we don't even know about. In the dark back there anyone could have taken a branching track without knowing.'
Veitch could easily have been right, but the weight on their hearts grew heavier nonetheless.
Ruth lost all track of time. The only sign of the passing minutes was the growing ache in her legs and the dull parade of platforms that had once meant nothing more than a commuter liminal zone between work and home. Now they were stations on the road to Hell, their names emblazoned on her mind: Tufnell Park, Kentish Town, Camden Town, Euston, King's Cross, Angel. She knew the next one would be Old Street and then they would be in the heart of the City. And by that time, she guessed, they would know exactly what troubles they were facing.
At one point, near King's Cross, they had heard the dim sound of clashing weapons and shouts echoing from one of the myriad tunnels converged there. They presumed it was the main Tuatha De Danann force encountering resistance somewhere.
Nuada was keen to reunite with his comrades to offer support if needed, but Veitch argued fiercely against this. The tunnel system was so complex the chances of locating them were slim-they could spend days wandering around down there, he stressed. And time was not on their side; at least some of them had to reach their destination.
After a heated debate, Nuada once again gave in, though Ruth could sense his patience with a Fragile Creature was growing thin.
Veitch came back to her side once Old Street and Moorgate stations were behind them. The air had grown several degrees colder and there was a deeply unpleasant smell that Ruth didn't want to examine too closely.
'Back in your good books now, am I?' she asked tartly and instantly hated herself, but she had been unable to resist the gibe.
This time it washed over Veitch; he had other things on his mind. 'Bank next. We'll have to go up top soon.' He paused. 'That fighting we heard must mean there are Fomorii down here. We've been lucky not to meet any of them.'
'Luck doesn't begin to explain it. I can't believe they've left one of the main routes into their most sacred places completely free from guards.'
