Saul turned and stormed to the exit. ‘I’m going out. I don’t knowwhen I’ll be back, but I don’t expect you to care, because you don’tthink you can use me at the moment. While I’m gone I recommend youthink carefully about doing something. Use Loplop, use Anansi, gethold of them and track the motherfucker down. When you’re willing toget off your arse, maybe we can talk.’ He turned to face King Rat.‘Oh, and don’t worry about your Magic Kingdom. I don’t want to be RatKing, not now, not ever, so I wouldn’t stress it. I’m going to findmy mates or something. I’m bored of you.’

Saul turned and swung out of the room, was briefly coated infilthy water, and passed into the sewers.

While Saul stalked through the subterranean realms above him, KingRat stood quivering with rage, his hands tugging fitfully at hisovercoat. Eventually his motions ceased and he seated himself.

He brooded.

He jumped up again, purposeful for the first time in days.

‘OK, sonny, point taken. So let’s talk about bait,’ he murmured tohimself.

He rushed out of the room, suddenly moving as he had when Saulfirst saw him, sinuous and mysterious, fast and chaotic.

He passed quickly, silently through the layers of the earth, whileSaul still struggled to find his bearings. King Rat emerged into adark street. On the other side, figures passed in and out of thepuddle of lacklustre lamplight, keeping their eyes fixed in front ofthem.

He stood quite still, his hidden eyes twitching imperceptibly. Helooked around him. His eyes crawled up the wall before him. Hestalked forward, one foot rising in a slow arch, curving back down toearth in an exaggerated parabola, his upper body bobbing slightly. Helooked up, spread his arms wide, gripped the brick wall like a lover.Silently, he scaled the side of the building, his boots findingimpossible purchase, his hands gripping invisible imperfections. Hedrew his hands back, contracting the muscles of his arms, fixing hisattention on the dark below the eaves.

His arms uncoiled, shot out. Something fluttered desperately and afamily of dirty pigeons burst from the shadow, disturbed from theirsleep. They disappeared into the air behind him. He withdrew his handand brought with it one of the birds, caught and held tight, itswings trying to stretch open, unable to escape him.

King Rat lowered his face towards his captive. It stoppedstruggling as he brought his face closer. He held it very tight tohim, stared deep into its eye.

‘You don’t have Jack to fear from me, little cove,’ he hissed. Thebird was still, waiting. ‘I want you to do me a favour. Go find yourboss-man, spread the word. King Rat wants Loplop. Have him track medown.’

King Rat released his scout. It lurched into the air, wheeled andswept off over London. King Rat watched it go. When he couldn’t seeit any more, he turned his back and disappeared into the darkcity.

It was the first time since his solo stroll along the Westway thatSaul had been alone for so long. His are was dwindling, threateningto snuff out, and he fed it carefully, maintained it. It gave him arighteous rush.

He wanted out of the claustrophobic sewers, wanted a taste of coldair. Judging by the ebb of water around his legs, the rain outsidehad let up. He wanted to emerge before it had fully dissipated.

Saul trusted to instinct in his rambles through the brickunderworld. The rules of the sewers were different, the distinctionsand boundaries between areas blurred. Above ground he knew where hewas, and decided where he was going. Under the pavement he felt onlya vague tugging to move from one part of the tunnel network toanother, a buzzing of the troglodytic radar apparently lodged in hisskull, and he would follow his nose. He did not know if he hadvisited any particular patch of sewer before; it was irrelevant. Heknew it all. It was only the environs of the throne-room which wereparticular, and all roads in the underworld seemed to lead thereeventually.

He ducked under low bricks, pushed his way through tighttunnels.

Saul heard the patter of feet around him, isolated squeals ofexcited rats. He saw a hundred little brown heads peeking from chinksin the bricks.

‘Hi, rats,’ he hissed as he moved.

Ahead of him he saw the ruined metal of a ladder, old andcorroded, dribbling its constituent parts into the stream ofrainwater. He grasped it, felt it crumble beneath him, scrambled upit before it disintegrated entirely. He pushed at the cover, to pokehis head into Edgware Road.

It was the end of twilight. The street was busy with Lebanesepatisseries, mini-cab firms and cut-price electrical repair shops,dirty video stores and clothing warehouses with hand-drawn signsadvertising their wares. Saul looked over the top of a building siteacross the road. Away in the west the fringe of the sky was still abeautiful bright blue, shading to black. At the base of the skylinethe edges of the buildings looked unnaturally sharp.

Saul slid gently through the hole in the pavement, nonchalant inthe knowledge that he could move without being seen or heard, so longas he kept in the shadows, obeyed the rules. Subtly he oozed throughthe opening, waiting for a gap in the flow of pedestrians, archinghis eyebrows, rolling out of the hole in the ground with thesmell.

He reached back to replace the manhole cover, and heard a mass ofhisses. Peering over the edge, Saul looked into the eyes of dozens ofrats, perched precariously on the rotting ladder.

He regarded them. They gazed at him.

He grunted and pulled the cover over the opening, but not fully,leaving a slit of darkness, to which he put his mouth and whispered,‘Meet me over by the bins.’

In a quick, odd motion Saul bobbed to his feet. He stuck his handsin his pockets, sauntered along the street past the clumps of people.They noticed him suddenly, moved aside and apart for him, frowning athis smell. Behind him a brown bolt shot out of the sewers, followedby another, then a sudden mass. One of the proprietors noticed andshrieked, and all attention focused on the manhole. By then the flowhad almost finished and the rats had melted into the interstices ofthe city, made themselves invisible.

Saul continued walking at the same pace as the street erupted intopandemonium behind him. People snatched themselves away from the holein the ground.

‘Who the fuck left that open?’ came one yell, along with a mass ofArabic.

Saul slid into the darkness at the edge of the street.

The rats had disappeared now and public-spirited citizens weregingerly shoving the metal cover back into position. Saul turnedslowly and leaned against a wall, ostentatious, if only for his ownbenefit. He inspected his nails.

A few feet away to his right was a mass of bins, some tumblinginto each other and spilling bags, the whole smelling faintly ofbaklava, sullied of course by filth. There was a rustling from thebags. A honey stained head poked up from the black plastic mass. Moreheads appeared around it.

‘Got yourself some food, then?’ hissed Saul out of the corner ofhis mouth. ‘That’s good.’

There was a faint screeching from the bins in reply.

A few feet away, in the world of the patisseries, those who hadcollaborated on resealing the sewers were laughing, unsettled. Theywere sharing cigarettes and looking around nervously, in case therats came back.

Saul moved over to the dustbins.

‘Alright, squad,’ he said quietly. ‘Show me what you can do. Firstalley on the left, quick march, quiet as… mice? Fuck it, I supposeso. Rank yourselves nice for me.’

There was a sudden explosive burst and a hundred brown torpedoesbolted from cover. Saul watched as they disappeared up drains, behindwalls, into the darkness which dribbled down from the eaves of thebuildings, into the holes between bricks. The bins were suddenlyvacant and still.