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Gunner didn’t question further. He merely cursed as the rope in his hand bit into the skin, and then finally, finally, the shaft clattered gracelessly atop solid ground, and cool air rushed in.

Theo, Briggs, and Donny awaited us, lanterns already lit, the canary cage set down before a vast wormhole channeling through the earth beyond.

Here, the ceiling was much lower. I ducked my head to exit the shaft, and Theo came to me immediately.

“Are you all right?” he asked. I’d forgotten how much he used to ask it,a habit returning. He reached for my hand and gripped it in his, pulling me through.

Patrick stared at where Theo and I connected. There was a tick along his jaw.

“You know each other,” he said to Theo rather than me. It wasn’t a question.

Theo simply nodded once. His hand tightened around mine. A signal.

Patrick’s eyes swept to me, crystalline blue, and I felt the distinct urge to pull my hand free, make it my own again.

As it was, Theo gripped it too tightly.

“Get started, boys,” Gunner intoned. He pulled buckets and timber from the shaft and into the tunnel. “Ladies first. And Teddy, do somethin’ with all these puddles, would you? I want dry boots when I walk out of here.”

“For the last time,” he said through gritted teeth, “it’s Theo.”

“Don’t sulk, Teddy. Come on, get rid of these puddles before we all catch our death.”

“You’re with me, Nina,” Patrick said. He walked past me, disappearing down the wormhole where the light couldn’t chase him.

I gave Theo a resigned look, and he returned it. It reminded me of how we’d once parted ways to attend separate classes. “Good luck,” he said, offering a quick grin.

I followed the walls slowly, my hands to either side, my heart galloping, watching as more gas bulbs ignited ahead, illuminating the path. My skirt dragged heavily through bog.

I collided with Patrick, his form suddenly there where before there’d been nothing, and I grunted, almost slipped.

“You’re clumsier than I remember,” he said, his face just visible. A deep frown lined his forehead. He knelt, upturning a square barrow with four wheels. He tied a rope to one end.

“You could have given me some warning that I’d be belowground,” I grumbled. “I would have dressed more appropriately.” Already, the skirt felt weighted. My back ached from it. The white blouse was likely ruined.

“Well, you dropped your skirt in front of me once, Nina Harrow. By all means, do it again.”

I whacked him, my hand glancing the back of his head.

“You disappoint me,” he said happily. “That deserved a closed fist, at the very least. One of these days, I’ll teach you to hit me properly.”

“Keep talkin’ and it’ll surely come to me.”

“Ah, there’s that Scurry mouth.” He tied off the rope with a flourish. “Like cornering a feral cat.”

I tasted blood when I swallowed, breathed deeply to collect myself. “You might just be the most infuriating man I’ve ever met.”

He stood, as well as a man his height could stand in close conditions. “I’m honored. And what of Teddy, son of a lord. What isheto you?”

The bloodlust lingered. “Your exact opposite.”

“Figured that much out for myself. First time he came down here, he fainted, started mumbling hymns in his sleep.”

“He’s kind. Intelligent. Well-spoken.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Patrick interjected. “I want to know why he looks at you like he’s the judge at a country fair and you’re the prize pig?”

“Apig?”