Chapter 30
I will stuff you in a sarcophagus if you cause any trouble,” Lewis quietly informed our prisoner, Geoffrey, as we moved through the service passageway of Ciceley House. He held the younger man by the arm, and Geoffrey tripped along like a reluctant toddler.
“I won’t, I swear,” the younger man insisted. “W-we ought to check the vaults, first. The detective said it would be stored there. The artifact, I mean.”
All of us save Pretoria stopped as one as we reached the café proper. She continued, one hand raised to shield herself in a skew of time, fingers light, head tilted to one side as she listened.
“Safe,” she determined. “No sign of Baffin yet, though we must exercise all caution.”
We joined her inside, spreading out under the dome of the painted ceiling. The café seemed demure now, ceiling in shadow, chairs empty, extravagant chandeliers and lording windows devoid of light.
“Perry and I will take the puppy up to Maddeson’s office,” Pretoria said. She was clearly favoring canine insults that evening.
Geoffrey looked startled. “Am I the puppy?”
Pretoria ignored him. “The vaults are below.” She gave me a meaningful look. “That is a better task for you.”
“Lewis and I will see to them,” I acknowledged. I was riddled with nervous anticipation, the thought of finally finding the artifact both intoxicating and taxing.
“You are sure?” Pretoria asked, casting a meaningful glance at Lewis.
I suppressed a flare of irritation. “I am sure.”
We divided. Pretoria, Perry, and Geoffrey headed for the nearest staircase, and Lewis and I made for the main foyer.
The museum was deathly quiet save for our footsteps and rustle of heavy clothes.
Diffused streetlight trickled through the front doors, illuminating the pillars, courtyard, and high walls beyond the glass.
We passed under the gaze of two enormous manticores at the base of the main staircase and paused, looking for our next destination.
The others, meanwhile, headed up the stairs to the second floor with quiet feet.
The thin light of the streetlamps faded entirely as Lewis and I entered a central passage. My Eventide eyes took over, separating the gloom into sepia tones.
A meaty thud and masculine “Oof” echoed from up the main stairs.
“Just a guard!” Pretoria whisper-shouted down to us. “Carry on!”
Lewis met my gaze with arched brows. I cracked a smile.
We passed a cloakroom with its empty shelves, hooks, and coat hangers, and slowed at a heavy door marked Private.
“This looks promising,” I said, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Shall I take the lock?”
“Please.”
“Hold this.”
He placed a lighter in my hand and crouched—as an Entwined of the Sun, he could not see in the darkness as I could.
Glancing around to ensure we were alone, I clicked a flame into life and bent close to the keyhole.
Light illuminated Lewis’s face, revealing pupils dark and wide and fixed on me. Our proximity was a demanding thing, charged and unnecessarily preoccupying.
“You look different,” he said, as if to justify his momentary stare, and turned to the lock.
“How so?”
He fiddled obscurely with his tools. “You… ah, tired. I need to concentrate.”
“Well,” I huffed, and held the lighter close enough to singe his moustache. He flinched back, opened his mouth to say something more, then froze.
Footsteps echoed from somewhere indistinct, accompanied by the drone of male voices. I instantly let the lighter go out.
Thus followed a rather unwieldy series of events in which I knocked into Lewis, who tried to support me and dropped a pick with a clatter.
His hand landed, rather pointedly, on my left breast, which, though it happened to be the superior breast, was still mortifying.
I stifled a startled sound and, in trying to grab the door handle to support myself, clawed him in the face.
“For all that is holy—cut your nails!” Lewis hissed.
“Watch your hands!”
Before our less-than-amiable banter could continue, my hand closed on the door handle.
Memories leapt out at me. I saw a hand, an arm reaching up to the silhouette of Dr. Maddeson. They had gone through, but not returned yet.
The footsteps, now clearly coming from beyond the door, closed in.
“Cloakroom!” I whispered.
“I cannot see!”
I snatched his hand. Together we scuttled back down the hallway, I lifted a divided section of the counter, and pulled him through.
“…your research,” Detective Supford’s voice drifted to us, accompanied by the opening of the door. Light flooded the hallway and cut across the countertop.
Lewis and I dropped down, side by side, behind the counter. Just out of reach of the light, we held our breaths.
“If your assistant has already retired for the night, perhaps you can give me a list of what you require?” Supford asked.
“Of course,” Dr. Maddeson replied. “Let us go up to my office. The artifact is more than safe in the vaults until the Grand General arrives, I assure you.”
The Grand General himself was on his way? That was a nightmarish thought.
“I appreciate your willingness to help, Professor,” Supford said. I picked up something in his tone, something displeased but resigned, and wondered if he was glad for the Grand General’s imminent arrival. “And your discretion.”
The light drew nearer, shrinking our little haven of shadow. We hunkered closer, our earlier conflict forgotten in the need to stay hidden. Lewis’s hand brushed my arm, but only to draw his pistol and hold it, ready, beside his head.
We listened until their footsteps mounted the main staircase, passed out into the foyer, and faded away.
“We do not have time to warn Pretoria,” Lewis said quietly.
I took a breath to think. “Agreed. She can manage Supford.”
Lewis unfolded and offered me a hand, which I took. At the same time, I noticed a scratch on his clean-shaven jaw.
“I am sorry I scratched you,” I offered quietly as I found my feet and let him go.
“I am sorry I… ah, patted you,” he replied, voice equally low.
I waved the conversation aside. “The lock.”
“The lock,” he affirmed.
We returned to the door marked Private. Lewis made quick work of the lock this time, aided by the lighter once more, and preceded me down a dim staircase beyond.
True darkness wrapped around us. Lewis slowed, taking the lighter and holding it before himself, but my Eventide eyes required no adjustment.
At the bottom of the steps I took the lead.
We set off at a brisk pace, passing room after room and turn after turn.
The belly of the museum was old, at least as old as the citadel, and the chaos of stones that formed the walls spoke of even more ancient ruins pillaged in the construction.
Still, hefty cabling for electricity laced along the walls and here and there a darkened bulb protruded from the ceiling.
The hallway abruptly ended in a huge iron door, set with a large tumbler and an iron bar.
When I touched a finger to the tumbler, I found the memory of Dr. Maddeson’s enthusiastic spinning of the dial, the brush of his sleeve, and a whispered exchange with Supford.
“Can you open it?” Lewis asked, stepping back and scanning the vault in its entirety.
“Perhaps.” I kept my hand on the tumbler. Images appeared again, vague and indistinct. I heard, felt, and saw the dial spin beneath Dr. Maddeson’s touch.
The dial scraped softly as I spun it to the first number. I was rewarded by a soft click and glanced at Lewis with a triumphant smile. He grinned back, genuine and impressed, and I felt a happy warmth from my cheeks to my toes.
I set back to my work. Five turns later, there was a louder clunk, and my task was done.
Together, we heaved on the iron bar. The door ground open, letting out a rush of musty, oddly scented air—old wood, chemicals, and dust.
Rounded arches of ancient stone branched off into a network of cellars in the same style as those beneath The Three Trees, studded with hefty pillars and lined with shelves.
Statues stood veiled beneath sheets, hung with labels.
Crates of every size were shoved into free spaces, and every shelf was laden with boxes, each marked with painstaking care.
My stomach sank. “It could be anywhere. I hardly even know what it looks like.”
“And I cannot see far,” Lewis added. He was grim in the little orb of light from his lighter. “You start. I will find a lantern.”
I nodded my agreement, and we separated.
I ducked under a low arch and avoided an Ummani coffin urn so large it could have fit both of us inside. Chilled by the thought, I carried on, scanning labels and peering into boxes.
One section of shelving held unrecognizable animal skeletons, empty eye sockets watching me from carved and painted skulls.
Another row housed meteorological instruments, discs and dials arching through the gloom.
Still another hosted pottery from every era of human history, depicting hunts and festivals and geometric patterns in age-muted tones.
Clay tablets sported pressings from reed styli, and one particular crate, yawning open, held a blank-eyed automaton in Seaussen court garb from three centuries past.
The Sarre—Landsdown Trove.
I darted back and pulled out a small crate. Inside, packed in wool, were several paper-wrapped objects.
“Lewis!” I hissed to the darkness.
I received no answer, but distantly I thought I saw a swell of light.
I set the crate on the floor and brushed my fingers across the bundles. I wanted to tear them open in reckless curiosity but reached for the papers’ memories instead.
Dust came off on my fingers, along with distant memories of being packed away. None of this was recent enough to be our artifact. I still unwrapped them, just in case, and found funerary statues of mundane, grey stone. No familiar symbols.
I turned, surveying the shelves around me with the back of one hand to my forehead, dusty fingers crooked and hopelessness welling in my throat.
“Ottilie!” Lewis’s voice echoed towards me, just loud enough to hear. “Over here!”
I set off at a run, abandoning the crate on the floor and darting through a regiment of suits of armor into a broader section of the vault.
The ceilings were higher here, and several tables were set out between veiled hangings on wooden frames.
One table held rows of weapons, unsheathed and carefully oiled. Another held stacks of books.
Lewis stood over the last table with a lantern held high. And on the surface before him, was an orb of dazzling blue stone.