The Final Storm

26. Today They Will Die!

"Dif," Adaira muttered beside me, fingers clamped tightly onto her nose, "if not how I imagined my firft tropical adventure."

"Really?" I glanced over towards her and sniffed. Strange...I couldn't smell anything at all. "In my experience, this is how things usually go. Either you are trudging through mosquito-infested jungles, or hellish deserts, or, well..." I gestured at the surrounding mouldy darkness, the cavernous ceiling of the tunnel, and the...what was that oddly-shaped rotten thing floating down the canal not far away? Well, not important.

"How are you not affected at all?" Adaira demanded.

Reaching over, I patted my silent husband's shoulder. "You can thank your brother for that. During the last few days, when we were in hiding, he helped me gain immunity to any kind of odour, even the worst stench imaginable."

"Really?" She lit up, then turned to her brother and sent him the best glare she could manage with her fingers still clamped over her nose. "Why didn't you tell me about dat?"

Silence.

"Oy! How about you fare that miraculouf mefod with your beloved little fifter?"

More silence. Which was probably for the best, since she most likely wouldn't appreciate knowing that the "miraculous method" consisted of spending several days in the loft above a giant dung pile. After that, trudging through recently flooded sewers didn't seem so bad anymore.

And speaking of trudging through sewers...

"So," I started in a conversational tone, "does anyone here actually know where we are going, or are we just walking straight ahead in the hope this passage leads out of the city rather than into a watery grave?"

Wordlessly, Mr Rikkard Ambrose pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.

"Is that a map of the sewers?" I enquired hopefully.

"No."

"Oh."

A pause.

"So...?"

"It's a street map of Delhi. I noticed gutters on both sides of the streets above. Thus, I deduced that the sewers in this city, as in many others, follow the same pattern as the streets."

"And, um, Mr Ambrose...?"

"Yes?"

"What if the sewers don't follow the street pattern? What if the rain starts again, and the sewers are flooded with rainwater?"

"Then I will quickly gain a lot more liquid assets."

"Now of all times is not the time for you to discover your sense of humour!"

"Who says I was joking?"

"I can't believe I have to say this, but...being in a sewer during a flood is not a good thing!"

"Indeed?"

"You—!"

Before I could get out another word, my husband whirled around and captured my cheek with his hand. Even down here in the dark, I could see his arctic eyes boring into me.

"Being in a sewer during a flood may not be a good thing," his voice rumbled, "but being caught in a city during the attack of a hostile army is even worse. Listen!"

Thanks to instincts honed during countless hours of office work, I did as he said. At first, the only thing I heard was the dripping of dirty water all around us, accompanied by the occasional unhealthy sound as the carcass of a half-rotten rat bumped against the edges of the canal. But then...