The Bonehunters
****
As she reached up yet further to tug the girl down, Sort saw Sinn's head snap around, saw something blazing in her eyes as she stared down at the captain.
'What now-' And then there came a faint voice, seemingly from the very stones. Faradan Sort's eyes widened. 'Sinn?'
The girl's hand, shoved into that crack – it was holding on to something.
Someone.
'Oh, gods below!'
****
Crunching sounds outside, boots digging into stone, then gloved fingers slipped round one edge beside the child's forearm, and Bottle heard: 'You, inside – who? Can you hear me?'
A woman. Accented Ehrlii… familiar? 'Fourteenth Army,' Bottle said.
'Malazans.' The child's grip tightened.
'Oponn's pull, soldier,' the woman said in Malazan. 'Sinn, let go of him. I need room. Make the hole bigger. Let go of him – it's all right – you were right. We're going to get them out.'
Sinn? The shouts from below were getting louder. Cuttle, calling up something about a way out. Bottle twisted to call back down. 'Cuttle!
We've been found! They're going to dig us out! Let everyone know!'
Sinn's hand released his, withdrew.
The woman spoke again. 'Soldier, move away from the hole – I'm going to use my sword.'
'Captain? Is that you?'
'Aye. Now, move back and cover your eyes – what? Oh, where'd all those children come from? Is that one of Fiddler's squad with them? Get down there, Sinn. There's another way out. Help them.'
The sword-point dug into the concreted brick and stone. Chips danced down.
Cuttle was climbing up from below, grunting. 'We gotta widen this some more, Bottle. That runt who dropped down the hole. We sent Smiles after her. A tunnel, angling back up – and out. A looter's tunnel. The children're all out-'
'Good. Cuttle, it's the captain. The Adjunct, she must have waited for us – sent searchers out to find us.'
'That makes no sense-'
'You're right,' Faradan Sort cut in. 'They've marched, soldiers. It's just me, and Sinn.'
'They left you behind?'
'No, we deserted. Sinn knew – she knew you were still alive, don't ask me how.'
'Alive?'
'We think so, Captain. How many days has it been?'
'Three. Four nights if you count the breach. Now, no more questions, and cover your eyes.'
She chopped away at the hole, tugged loose chunks of brick and stone.
The dusk air swept in, cool and, despite all the dust, sweet in Bottle's lungs. Faradan Sort began work on one large chunk, and broke her sword. A stream of Korelri curses.
'That your Stormwall sword, Captain? I'm sorry-'
'Don't be an idiot.'
'But your scabbard-'
'Aye, my scabbard. The sword it belonged to got left behind… in somebody. Now, let me save my breath for this.' And she began chopping away with the broken sword. 'Hood-damned piece of Falari junk-' The huge stone groaned, then slid away, taking the captain with it.
A heavy thump from the ground beyond and below, then more cursing.
Bottle clawed his way into the gap, dragged himself through, then was suddenly tumbling down, landing hard, rolling, winded, onto his stomach.
After a long moment he managed a gasp of air, and he lifted his head – to find himself staring at the captain's boots. Bottle arched, raised a hand and saluted – briefly.
'You managed that better the last time, Bottle.'
'Captain, I'm Smiles-'
'You know, soldier, it was a good thing you assumed half the load I dumped on Smiles's back. If you hadn't done that, well, you likely wouldn't have lived this long-'
He saw her turn, heard a grunted snarl, then one boot lifted, moved out slightly to the side, hovered-above Bottle's rat-then stamped down – as his hand shot out, knocked the foot aside at the last moment. The captain stumbled, then swore. 'Have you lost your mind-'
Bottle rolled closer to the rat, collected her in both hands and held her against his chest as he settled down onto his back. 'Not this time, Captain. This is my rat. She saved our lives.'
'Vile, disgusting creatures.'
'Not her. Not Y'Ghatan.'
Faradan Sort stared down at him. 'She is named Y'Ghatan?'
'Aye. I just decided.'
Cuttle was clambering down. 'Gods, Captain-'