Page 60 of The Princes of Stone and Steel

Chami sank down the rest of the way, drawing the sword with her.

Steele moved up in line two spots as the searches resumed.

We moved up four more spots from there before I finally asked him quietly, “What is Chami?”

“Chami?”

I pointed to the hole behind us.

“You talked to it?”

“Her, I think. But yes.”

He stared at me for several beats. The line moved again, we didn’t.

“What?” I asked.

“Every new thing I learn about you amazes me, Mils. I’m the luckiest man in both our worlds to have you at my side.”

“You say that now…” I tried to sound lighthearted, but I’d be lying to say that the fear wasn’t hiding just below the surface. Fear that I might fail and someone I loved would die.

Chami popped her head up through another hole and shook off the dirt. She reached up for Steele. He looked down.

“Your blades,” I reminded him.

At my prodding, he dug under his tunic and inside his pants for the knives he’d sheathed there. “I give these up, we’ll be weaponless.”

“Please. I trust Chami.”

I trusted Chami and he trusted me by handing our remaining weapons down to her.

“See you inside,” Chami chewed to me in her language.

“Again, thank you,” I replied.

One by one, she drew the blade handles down inside the hole until the last one disappeared from view, along with Chami.

We took another several steps forward.

“She’s a chamarmot,” said Steele. “They’re rare. I’ve never seen one alive before. Only stuffed, in the castle’s museum. For quite some time, they were thought to be extinct.”

“I bet,” I said dryly. The thought of a beautiful creature like Chami stuffed in a museum didn’t sit well with me.

Steele rumpled his brow. “The Forfex may have issues, Mils, but specie-cide isn’t one. Besides, I’ve heard tales of them appearing from time to time, so their population must be growing.”

“Not if we don’t succeed,” I said before I thought better of it and winced. Steele should’ve gotten cross with me. That was a low blow. I didn’t think his people, at least initially, thought they were causing harm by trying to improve the lives of their people with museum exhibits.

I knew better. The London fog wasn’t fog but a haze of smog that settled over the city, making so many men, women, children and even animals sick. Poisoning their lungs and their food from the noxious air all brought on by industry made to make people’s lives better.

My world had been down this road.

We paid the price.

I had to stop it here.

“We’ll succeed,” Steele said.

“Pardon?”

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