What Stalks the Deep (Sworn Soldier, #3)

by T. Kingfisher

Ah, I thought. The sort of person who talks about “observing phenomena.” I actually quite like people like that, because if you can get them talking about their particular specialty, they will tell you the most fascinating anecdotes about botflies or ball lightning or things they have extracted from some unfortunate soul’s rectum. They can be immense fun at otherwise stuffy parties.

“I suppose it might have been a frog,” I said, without much conviction. “At the bottom of a mine? Glowing red?” “I don’t know, maybe you have strange American glow-frogs here.” “I believe those are limited to Australia,” said Ingold, deadpan.

At that moment, I should have run away. I was aware of that even at the time. But I was furious—deeply and unexpectedly furious—because how dare this monster impersonate a dog?

Sometimes when people hurt for a long time, they start to think that hurting is part of who they are. And then anything that helps the hurt, even healing, feels like it’s trying to strip part of them away.”