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didn’t have to stoop, some tunnels wide enough that four could walk abreast, thin pipes snaking up through rock and dirt the only connection to the world above. For me, though, the biggest surprise was that there’d once been enough water to justify its existence in the first place.
    â€˜You wouldn’t know it, but it used to rain more here in a single year than most other places in the country,’ Taggart told me, early on, when I’d asked. I didn’t ask too many questions, but that one had seemed safe enough. ‘They reckoned in the winter months, on a clear day, you’d see snow on those mountains.’ I’d heard of snow, but hearing’s not the same as seeing.
    We’d concluded our business in the armoury, but I was in no hurry to leave and he seemed in no rush to get rid of me. He’d piled a new cache of knives and other blades on the counter between us and he was sorting through them, sharpening the good ones on the stone, putting the rest aside for repair or repurposing. The rasp of metal soothed like a steady snore.
    â€˜I’m surprised no one knows it’s here,’ I said. I certainly hadn’t. Not before joining the Watch.
    He shot me a look. ‘People know, lad. The ones who had to live in it, and who’re still around. But there are some things they’d rather forget. And it’s better they do.’
    â€˜How many were you?’ I asked, keen to keep him talking. Taggart wasn’t much of a one for conversation. Not then, and even less now.
    â€˜Coupla hundred maybe. Enough supplies though. And goats, stinking up the place like a shithole. Couldn’t fuckin’ move without tripping over one of ’em.’
    â€˜Good thing someone thought of it,’ I replied. Goats gave us more than just meat and milk and cheese.
    â€˜Says the one who wasn’t there,’ Taggart muttered. ‘Far as I’m concerned now, the only good goat’s a dead one.’ He stopped his scraping and rubbed his bristled chin. ‘Coulda been worse, though. Same one who did that was responsible for the grain, too. Had a whole hoard of seeds, different kinds. But only one of ’em took. Those Godders reckon it was some kinda miracle. It wasn’t. Just plain dumb luck.’
    I thought about that, about how a single action by one person had ended up feeding so many. Maybe not miraculous, but not too dumb either.
    â€˜So what happened to him, then? Your goat and grain man?’
    He bent to the stone again and it took him a while to answer; when he did, his tone was even shorter than usual. ‘Weren’t no man, Jem. A woman. Willow, her name was.’
    The past tense was a giveaway, and I let it go. Watching him finish with the knife, I waited until he’d selected another before asking, ‘How long did you have to stay down here?’
    Taggart shrugged. ‘Long enough. Too fuckin’ long. Best thing we ever did was put out the call while we still could. Gathered the rest of you in. Never would’ve made it otherwise. Course, thosecalls brought others too.’ He paused, and shook his head. ‘Dark times, lad.’
    Yeah, dark times. Before my time.
    â€˜And Garrick –?’ I ventured. But I’d pushed too far.
    The knife stabbed the worn wood of the bench and, just like that, Taggart was done with the talk. ‘You wanna know Garrick’s story, you ask him.’
    I never had. Like I said, I wasn’t that stupid. Nor had I been given the chance to ask why it was the Watch, and not the Guard, who’d claimed the compound. Maybe Garrick had felt he had every right, given its history and the role the Watch had played protecting the Citadel from the enemy without. Or maybe, since we’d been reduced to hunting the enemy within, it was simply a case of needing to keep us hidden. But one thing was certain: the place was far larger than we needed.
    Now, cleaned of all its goat shit and