The Piano frozen in stunned silence as the gate went down in a cloud of dust, rust, and clanging metal. It... had not expected that. Archimedes's ironic last word came tragically too late. It sighed, which made a light ringing noise like a breeze brushing over undampened strings, good-naturedly.
Defenses against fire? The Piano wracked its brain, running through the list of magic that it knew. "...No," it concluded, then added wryly: "Perhaps your torch isn't the greatest fire hazard in here after all." It thought for a moment. If the fire came from something alive, it could deal with that when it came to it, but if it came from traps? It scanned the pieces of gate remaining to see if it could pick out a still-intact piece of metal. Its strings grasped a smallish and awkwardly-shaped, but still usable, piece.
"If you think the ground ahead looks suspicious," it said to Archimedes as it followed the rat inward, "we can test it with this before stepping on it ourselves."
@Archimedes and gm tagging