(Romanian proverb) As structures in Edinburgh’s Old Town climbed higher, their foundations sank deeper into the soft sandstone. The steep slopes on either side of the High Street had enabled builders to dig sideways into the ridge, building underground levels at depths not possible elsewhere. The foundations of the tenements resembled rabbit warrens, levels of cellars built one above the other, a cold, damp maze of tunnels and underground chambers teeming with beggars and criminals and other societal outcasts. Not to mention rats. Water for cooking and washing was carried by hand down the same winding tunnels into which the residents threw their household waste. Jamie was familiar with the Old Town, having been left as a babe on the doorstep of the Orphan’s Hospital in the shadow of Calton Hill. He didn’t think it proper he was guiding Miss Emily through these crowded streets. Not that anything about Ravensclaw’s household was proper. Jamie had squirmed down enough chimneys to realize that.
