by T. A. White
“Were any of them hurt when the looters came through?” Dewdrop asked.
She shook her head. “They were unharmed. Their replacements found them asleep. My father was furious when he learned they were sleeping on duty. He’s stripped them from our guard and reported them to their guild. It’ll be difficult for them to get another job as personal protection after this.”
“All of them were asleep?” Tate asked.
“So the replacement said.”
That was interesting. She could see one, maybe two falling asleep, but all four?
Dewdrop looked thoughtful and he gave Tate a meaningful glance. She nodded but didn’t say anything.
Tate noticed Gabriella behind them, observing intently, her sharp eyes not missing anything. Tate decided to drop this topic, not wanting to draw too much attention.
The group walked in silence for several moments, each lost in their own thoughts.
“How much further do you think it is?” Dewdrop asked. If Tate hadn’t known him as well as she did, she wouldn’t have heard the faint trace of unease in his voice.
“Not much further,” Roslyn said. “The main find is in one of the chambers off this branch of tunnels.”
“You’ve been here before?” Tate asked.
Roslyn looked away, pricking Tate’s interest.
“Yes, my father thought I’d be interested to see how our investment was being used.”
Roslyn didn’t sound happy about that. Tate wondered if it had something to do with the duke’s obsession with finding an artifact that Roslyn could bond with. She imagined it must be uncomfortable for your parent to be so convinced that you were incomplete that they would go to such lengths to fix you. Tate was once again grateful not to have any known familial bonds. In Roslyn’s case they looked like they came with a whole bunch of strings attached.
By now they had passed several branches in the tunnel. There were slots in the walls, empty dark holes about the size of a human adult if they laid down. Tate couldn’t help but feel something was just waiting for the right moment to jump out at them.
Dewdrop looked around with unease. “I can’t wait until we’re out of here.”
Gabriella nodded, looking at those empty holes with distaste.
Tate held her lamp up to the wall, illuminating one of the slots. Nothing in its space, just smooth stone and dust.
It was creepy, like walking among the dead. She was with Dewdrop on this. She wanted out of here as soon as possible. This place did not give her a good feeling.
“What do you think these were used for?” Dewdrop asked in a hushed tone.
“They were probably used to inter the dead,” Gabriella said, tension in her voice. She did not look thrilled to see those holes.
The rest of the Silva looked no happier. Tala was quietly furious as she peered into the slots.
“Where did the bodies go?” Dewdrop asked.
He was right. There were no sign of dead in any of the slots.
“Maybe they were created but never used,” Tate said. It was possible. They might have abandoned the tunnels before the burial platforms were needed.
“No, these type of platforms were created as needed. Each one of these should house a body and the dead’s most treasured possessions.” Gabriella’s face was grim and her eyes sad as she looked at the walls.
Tate looked around. There must have been at least fifty slots. That was a lot of bodies to go missing.
Ilith stirred on her shoulder, the first sign of movement since the change the day before. The dragon stretched, pulling and kneading at Tate’s skin before coiling around her neck, her head peeking above of the collar of her shirt.
Tate could sense the dragon’s interest in the zari shirt. Ilith did something and the shirt shimmered. Tate flinched as whatever Ilith did rebounded back to them, stinging and nipping at her skin.
“Stop that,” Tate muttered to the dragon.
Dewdrop looked at her with surprise. Tate shook her head at him and he turned away, used to the way she sometimes talked to the dragon.
Not having heard Tate’s comment, Roslyn responded to Gabriella, “As far as I know there were never any dead in this section of the tunnel.”
“No offense, but I doubt you would have been told had there been any,” Gabriella said. “Your father would have ordered them removed as soon as they were discovered. Their presence would have automatically confirmed the Silva’s claim on this place.”
Roslyn straightened, looking every inch the injured noble as she said, “I’m sure my father and the academics would have acted in good faith should any dead have been present.”
Dewdrop snorted. “The only thing the nobility are sure to have done is act in their own best interests.”
Tate slapped his shoulder. He rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut against any other sour words.
Privately, she agreed with him. She’d seen enough to know that the powerful usually only cared about themselves, with a few rare exceptions. That didn’t mean they could air those opinions. Not when they were supposed to be a neutral party in this little disaster.
“That’s not true,” Roslyn argued. “My father has worked for many years to bring about change to better the city and its people. You cannot simply cast blame because you don’t like that he was born to more opportunities than you.”
Dewdrop and Gabriella looked like they wanted to argue. Tate could see this spiraling into something that went on for hours and involved others in the group.
“You are both entitled to your opinions,” she said, forestalling further argument. “However, we’re not here to debate nobility versus the rest of the city. Let’s focus on the matter at hand.”
The tunnel ended abruptly. Elijah, Jost and the Shodon stood waiting for everyone else to catch up. When everyone had gathered, Elijah turned to the wall and ran his hands around it before pressing.
As it had in the hall, the wall flashed and then dissolved. On the other side was an octagonal room. It was huge and could easily fit a group three times the number of people they had.
Tate wasn’t the only one staring around in disbelief. Even the Shodon, whose face was normally neutral, looked almost in awe of the room.
A mosaic ran along the walls, the greens, blues and greys as vivid today as they must have been when the mosaic was first created. The floor had three levels, each following the shape of the room and allowing people to step down. The lowest level had a design full of swoops and swirls on the floor—almost a starburst pattern—around what looked very much like an altar to Tate.
It was white with a clear glass on top. Similar to something she had encountered under Aurelia when she had escaped the Luciuses and met a girl named Ai down there.
She walked around the top tier of the floor as others ventured down to the altar. There was a pattern to this mosaic that teased at Tate’s brain. Something about it was familiar—as if she’d seen it at some point in the past.
Around and around she walked until she’d walked the room three times, Dewdrop shadowing her. She ignored Elijah holding court at the bottom as he explained how they’d discovered the hidden room and what they’d found.
“You recognize this place?” Dewdrop asked.
Tate looked around and shrugged. “Not sure.”
“You sure act like it. You’ve got that expression on your face.”
“What expression? I don’t have an expression.”
“Yes, you do. The one that says there’s something scratching at the corners of your mind. It usually means you’re going to go off on some harebrained scheme based entirely off a feeling that something might or might not be familiar.”
“That happened once,” Tate said, resuming her walk around the chamber.
“You’re forgetting the time the street seller had a loaf of bread that, and I quote, ‘reminded you of a dream you had. It could be a clue Dewdrop. Let’s follow him.’”
“It could have been a clue.”
“The ci
ty guard tried to arrest us because the street seller accused us of working for his competition and trying to steal his recipes.”
“This time I think I’m really onto something.”
Dewdrop folded his arms and lifted his eyebrows, not impressed in the least by her thoughts.
She pointed to the walls. “I can’t explain it, but I could swear I’ve seen these patterns before.”
He came to study the wall with her. “Any idea where?”
She shook her head, frustration coloring her tone. “It’s odd. I can tell you I’ve seen it before, even point out the missing piece, but I can’t tell you how I know or where I know it from.”
Sensing her mood, Ilith’s mind squeezed hers gently in sympathy. She touched the dragon where she rested against Tate’s throat, giving Ilith a gentle caress along her back. Tate didn’t know if Ilith felt it when she was in tattoo form, but it made her feel better to have that bit of comfort.
“Excuse me.” A mousy looking man with thick glasses popped up between them. His hair stuck straight up from his head making him look perpetually surprised. “I couldn’t help but overhear. You think something is missing from this pattern?”
Dewdrop leaned back and shot Tate a look from behind the man’s back and mouthed, ‘who is this guy?’
Tate shrugged, trying to keep the motion as subtle as she could.
The man seemed familiar. If he was down here, he was related to this place in some way. He lacked the amber eyes of the Silva and the coloring of the Kairi. By process of elimination, that made him human. She couldn’t see him as the Duke of Spiritly’s guard which meant he had to be an Academic. Probably an assistant.
“And who are you?” Tate asked.
The man flushed. “Ah, I forgot. I’m Josef. I work with Elijah.”
“You’re his assistant?” Tate asked.
“Head researcher,” Josef corrected, puffing up a little bit.
“I apologize. I hadn’t realized.”
Dewdrop widened his eyes comically behind Josef’s back. Tate’s mouth twitched as she fought to keep a straight face.
“No one ever does,” Josef muttered. “Elijah likes to keep all the attention focused on himself. Never mind that it was my contact who discovered this place and my years of research in following the migratory pattern of ancient verlock birds that led us to this area.”
Tate was hard-pressed to keep a polite expression on her face. This guy seemed to have a lot of pent-up anger. Though why he was expressing it to her, she didn’t know.
Gabriella drifted to stand beside Tate, looking interested in their conversation. She gave Tate a considering look before observing the mosaic.
“Anyway, you said something about this pattern having a missing piece,” he said.
Tate blinked, hoping her stray comment wasn’t about to get her into trouble. “Yes, uh. That’s what it seemed like to me.”
“Can you show me where?”
She nodded and gestured at a spot where it felt like something was missing. It was so obvious that she doubted she was the first one to notice.
The mosaic, which covered every wall in one continuous pattern, was mostly made up of repeated shapes and colors. The floors were also covered in a pattern that ran counterclockwise to the one on the walls. There was one spot where the pattern was broken. The colors slightly off and the lines starting to jog. From there, it was like a spider web where the pattern became more and more broken before becoming a second pattern within the first.
Josef stepped close to where Tate indicated and touched the wall gently. “Fascinating. It took me three months to even realize that something was off in this room. It took me another four months to pinpoint where the abnormality originated. How did you do that so quickly?”
Tate shrugged, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the way Josef was staring at her like she was a bug that he wanted to stick a pin in and study. It didn’t help that Dewdrop was giving her his best ‘you are seriously odd’ expression. She fought the urge to shuffle in place, not wanting to seem unsure.
“It just stood out to me.” And it had, like a pebble dropped into still water.
“Have you done work with the warring states era before?” he asked with an inquisitive glance.
Tate didn’t even know what that meant.
Gabriella squatted next to the spot Tate had indicated. “I have and I didn’t notice until she pointed it out.” She touched the wall near the spot. “Now that I see it, it’s impossible to miss.”
“I agree,” Josef said, crouching next to her. “I’ve seen countless versions of this in other rooms we’ve discovered but it always takes a while to discover.”
“But once you do, you’re left wondering how you ever missed it.” Gabriella finished his thought.
Dewdrop looked at Tate and raised and lowered his eyebrows a few times, gesturing discreetly to the two bonding over the mosaic.
“Where did you study?” Josef asked Gabriella.
“I’m mostly self-taught though I did attend several classes at the Ravin Academy in Sylvain.”
“I’ve always wanted to attend there. Just to see how the tunnels found in Sylvain differ from those found in the rest of the continent. From what I’ve heard, most of the ones near there are much more heavily influenced by the Creators.”
“You could apply to attend. They do have guest lecturer spots,” Gabriella said.
“I did. It’s incredibly hard to get in. The waiting list is years long and you need a referral from at least one Silva clan head.”
Tate winced. From what she’d seen of Silva relations with the Academics so far, it would be incredibly hard to obtain that referral. No wonder the Academics were holding so tight to this find. It gave them a rare glimpse into an area of study not easily accessible for them. Tate could see why they were frothing at the mouth at the thought of having this taken away from them.
There wasn’t much Gabriella could say in response. The man looked crestfallen at his explanation.
“And you?” Josef asked Tate when the silence turned awkward.
“I haven’t studied anywhere.”
“So you just walked in here and were able to spot the key.” Skepticism was heavy in his voice.
“Key? I don’t understand.”
“The break in pattern is usually referred to as a key,” Gabriella explained. “It’s meant as a way to allow your allies access without you needing to be present. They’re in many of the Ancients’ constructs, though we are not always skilled at spotting them. We haven’t been able to unlock many of the mosaics discovered.”
Josef glared at Tate as if he suspected she was holding something back and it offended him.
“You’ll have to forgive Tate,” Dewdrop inserted. “She does odd things all of the time. She’s a bit unique in that way.”
Josef didn’t look like he believed that explanation, but he let up on his questions about Tate’s background. She was grateful for that.
“Do you see anything else?” Gabriella asked Tate when the silence turned awkward.
Tate looked around. “Not really. I only noticed because the colors in these tiles were slightly off. Once I noticed that, the other oddities couldn’t be ignored.”
“What color difference?” Gabriella asked. “Can you show me?”
“Sure.” Tate didn’t see how they could miss it, but she was willing to humor them.
She stepped forward and pointed to the three tiles in question, each no bigger than two of her finger nails. The shift in color was subtle. On second thought maybe it wasn’t the color. They just seemed to have an odd sheen to them.
“These tiles?” Josef asked, peering at them closely.
“Those would be the ones.”
“I don’t see anything,” he said. His face was so close to them that it was practically pressed against the wall. Tate wouldn’t be surprised if he came away with tile marks.
“I don’t either.” Gabriella frowned.
Tate looked
at Dewdrop. He shook his head at her, saying wordlessly that he didn’t see what she did either.
“It’s right there.” Tate pointed to the tiles again, tapping each one lightly.
There was a grinding sound and something shifted in the room.
There were several gasps from below and everyone froze as they waited for something to happen.
Tate turned. Jost and Danny’s hands had dropped to their belt and the blades they had hidden there. The duke’s guard had one hand on him and was eyeing the other people in the room with wariness.
Roslyn was crouched on the second level, looking around with wide, scared eyes.
The others, with the exception of Elijah, had stepped away from the altar and were eyeing it with a healthy dose of caution.
“Is everyone alright?” Jost asked loudly, waiting as everyone in the room confirmed their health.
“What was that?” Tala asked. She looked cool and unruffled, her eyes alert, and body perfectly balanced in case she needed to leap to safety.
“Did we trigger a trap?” Roslyn asked softly as she straightened from her crouch.
Elijah stepped closer to the white altar-like table in the middle of the room. It shifted again and then slid back, revealing a hole.
“It’s another room!” Josef said in excitement, darting away from the wall and running down the three levels to peer into the hole next to Elijah.
Tala looked at him with interest and stepped up beside him.
“We knew there had to be one. They only created these sorts of rooms when they were trying to hide something, but we had been unsuccessful finding the latch to open it,” Josef told Tala, a barely restrained excitement in his voice. He sounded like a child who had just been given the best present in the world.
Josef stood and rolled up his sleeves, grabbing the lamp from the floor where he’d set it.
“What are you doing?” Jost asked, his voice one of idle curiosity. Tate knew that tone. His curiosity was anything but idle.
“We need to explore. This is too good an opportunity to pass up.”
“You show too much haste, human. There has been no decision made regarding who owns all this,” the Shodon said, his voice powerful as it echoed in the large space.