Chapter 15
Finn had heard it called the "Venice of drains" and now he knew why. Winding their way over haphazard bridges, the drain waters below were stained red from the tanneries, and all manner of slime exuded from the cracks and crevices, freezing like stalactites hanging from the rotting structures around them. Finn understood poverty, and even squalor. The Old Nichol too was dark with hunger and hopelessness, but this place sent chills down his spine.
Claustrophobic and suffocating in every dread-filled step, soot-covered and sallow faces stared at them through gaps in the flooring and broken windows. An icy wind blustered down the alley's tunnels and rats ran with them as they chose their footing carefully on the iced plank-ways, looking for any sign that they were making their w
