Most of us are scared of something, I wanted to mutter, but resisted the urge. I suspected Brega wasn’t the type to feel sympathy for childhood terrors, especially when dwarves lived, breathed, and loved the underground places of this world, be they here in Deva or elsewhere across the UK.

I edged closer to the ladder. It was surrounded by a circular metal cage that prevented you falling backward but didn’t make me feel any safer, simply because it didn’t prevent you falling down.

Brega glanced pointedly at her watch. “We’ve roughly ten minutes before security does the next pass, so you need to make up your mind—are you going down, or are you staying up here?”

I blew out a breath. “Going down.”

No matter how much I hated rats, I couldn’t let Lugh go to Nialle’s house alone. He’d not only been Lugh’s best friend since boarding school but had worked alongside him at the National Fae Museum. He’d met his death while researching Agrona’s Claws, and we believed the very same people responsible for his murder had recently made an attempt on Lugh’s life. They’d also firebombed the family tavern I ran and had kidnapped both me and my ex, Mathi, using him to force me to find the Crown of Shadows for them.

To top it all off, our mom disappeared six months ago. We only recently discovered her body—she’d been shot and then buried by a tunnel collapse.

At this point, though, her death didn’t seem linked to Nialle’s, but rather to the theft of the Éadrom Hoard, a treasure of godly relics that had been guarded by the light elves for eons. Ever since we taller pixies had lost the job, in fact.

Of course, given Nialle had been researching the Claws, a connection was technically possible. At this point, none of us were really certain of anything. Nothing other than the fact we’d find the bastards who’d killed Mom and make them pay.

No matter what it took.

Unfortunately, Nialle’s house remained guarded by the Eldritch—a small but specialized offshoot of the Interspecies Investigation Team who generally dealt with deaths involving odd or magically unnatural causes—and that meant Lugh would need someone to act as lookout while he searched for clues as to what Nialle’s murderers had been after. The dwarves wouldn’t provide that service—not unless we were willing to pay an exorbitant extra fee, of course.

I turned and carefully climbed onto the ladder. Water from the brief but fierce storm we’d had during the ten minutes we’d spent waiting for the guard to pass dripped steadily down the metal, making it slick and slippery. I tried not to think of how far it was to fall and carefully went down.

I was at the halfway point when Brega dragged the cover back into place. The brief sliver of streetlight that had been guiding my way died, and darkness wrapped around me. I ignored the gathering tension and kept climbing down, the metal vibrating under my fingers as Brega followed. After a second or so, light shone up at us, highlighting the rough-hewn stone walls while lessening the likelihood of slipping.