I motioned to the shaft. “Why didn’t you get them to make it wider? It’s going to be a tight fit in there with your shoulders.”

“I’ve been in tighter spaces, trust me.”

“That did not answer the question.”

He laughed. “Because they charge by the meter and the amount of rubble removed. Besides, anything wider might cause structural problems, as we’re close to the building’s foundations.”

“Given the number of tunnels crisscrossing the area, it’d be fairly safe to presume that if the foundations were going to collapse, they would have done so by now.”

It was more likely they’d been worried about causing minor structural movement that would get noticed and maybe get them in trouble.

He grinned and didn’t deny the accusation. “Shall I go first?”

“Given how heavy that flagstone looks, definitely. Me and the rat will be just fine down here.”

His gaze darted back to mine, his expression concerned. “It’s still following us?”

I looked back down the tunnel. “I’m not sensing it at the moment. I’m not even sure if it’s the rat Brega spotted. But I have my knives.”

Said knives were wickedly curved blades made of pure silver, a metal that was deadly to shifters, due to the fact it formed a poisonous compound when it came into contact with certain proteins unique to them. Even elves were wary of silver; it wasn’t as deadly to them as shifters, but their legendary healers couldn’t easily fix wounds caused by it.

These particular knives had been gifted to my family back in the days when we’d been their guardians and could only be used by the females of our line, though no one had ever understood why that particular restriction had been placed on them. Either the old gods had been playing one of their weird games—gifting certain humans or non-humans powerful relics and then watching the fallout was something they’d found greatly amusing, apparently—or they’d suspected we’d have more need of their powers than our male counterparts.

Of course, it wasn’t only the silver that made the knives deadly. They’d been blessed by multiple goddesses and could counter all sorts of magic. If family rumors were to be believed, they were also an effective counter to the wiles of the old gods, though as far as I knew, none of my ancestors had ever tested that one out.

Lugh glanced briefly at the knives strapped securely to my thighs and then nodded. “Shout the minute you see or feel anything untoward, and I’ll drop back down.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I know, but you are my sister and the only one I have. It’s my role as a big brother to look after you. Besides, you’re wound up tighter than an antique clock right now.”

Echoes of Mom and Gran using the same phrase rose, and grief briefly surged. I shoved it away and forced a smile. “Will you stop wasting time worrying about me and just get up there?”

Lugh laughed, then leapt up, grabbed the first of the handholds, and then began to climb.