He had deluded himself with the thought that the rodents would have heart attacks from the effort of climbing all those stairs. He had been wrong. The rats of the New Quarter were bold and adventurous and looked better fed than many of the humans. He had seen some of the larger ones chasing a cat.

Felix shuddered. Now he wished he had not started thinking about rats — it made him think of the mysterious aristocrat and the skaven in the sewers. What had been the purpose of that clandestine meeting? What profit could any man find in dealing with such alien monstrosities? And how could it be that folk could roister and whore through the teeming streets of Nuln and be unaware of the fact that evil things burrowed and crawled and nested not six yards beneath their feet? Perhaps they just didn’t want to know. Perhaps it was true, as some philosophers claimed, that the end of the world was coming and it was best to simply lose oneself in whatever pleasures one could find.

Footsteps approached on the stairs. He could hear the old rickety boards creak under the weight. He had been going to complain that the whole place was a firetrap but Frau Zorin had always seemed too pitiful and poor to bother.

The footsteps did not stop on the landing below but continued to come closer.

Felix reached beneath his pillow for his knife. He could think of no one who would be visiting him at this time of night and Frau Zorin’s was right in the roughest part of the New Quarter.

Noiselessly he rose and padded on bare feet to the door. He stifled a curse as a splinter embedded itself in the sole of his foot. There was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Felix asked, although he already knew the answer. He recognised the old widow woman’s wheezing breath even through the thin wood.

“It’s me,” Frau Zorin shrieked. “You have visitors, Herr Jaeger.”

Cautiously Felix opened the door. Outside stood two huge burly men. They carried clubs in their hands and looked as if they knew how to use them. It was the man they flanked that interested Felix. He was handing the landlady a gold coin, which she took with an ingratiating smile. As the man turned to look at the door Felix recognised him. It was his brother, Otto.

“Come in,” Felix said, holding the door open. Otto stood staring at him for a long time, as if he couldn’t quite recognise his younger brother. Then he strode into the room.

“Franz, Karl, remain outside,” he said quietly. His voice carried an authority that Felix had not heard in it before, an echo of their father’s calm, curt manner.

Felix was suddenly acutely aware of the poverty of his surroundings: the uncarpeted floor, the straw pallet, the bare walls, the hole in the sloping roof. He saw the whole scene through his brother’s eyes and wasn’t at all impressed.

“What do you want, Otto?” he asked brusquely.

“Your taste in accommodation hasn’t changed much, has it? Still slumming.”

“You haven’t come all the way from Altdorf to discuss my domestic arrangements. What do you want?”

“Do you have to hold that knife so ready? I’m not going to rob you. If I was, I would have brought Karl and Franz in.”

Felix slid the knife back into its scabbard. “Maybe I would surprise Karl and Franz.”

Otto tilted his head to one side and studied Felix’s face. “Maybe you would at that. You’ve changed, little brother.”

“So have you.” It was true. Otto was still the same height as Felix but he was far broader.