Page 49 of Secrets of Graves and Gold

Stavros moves first, hooking the end of his metal prosthetic around a small fingerhold in the steel circle. He tugs at it—and the hatch lifts with a faint creak. A trace of a burnt scent wisps through the air with the movement.

Casimir laughs lightly. “Now that’s a use for daimon magic that I can approve of.”

As Stavros peers into the blackness below, I slip between the other men to join him. “I can go down first. I’m used to finding my way in the dark.”

The former general frowns as if he’s about to argue with me, so I don’t give him the chance. Spotting the glint of an upper rung, I plunk myself down at the lip of the opening and hop onto the ladder inside.

“Ivy,” Stavros protests, but I’m already clambering the rest of the way down.

When my feet hit the earthen floor, I glance up at his looming form. “Why don’t you move your massive self out of the way so I can get a little sunlight down here?”

I catch a muffled guffaw that sounds like Alek. Stavros mutters something about insolent ladies under his breath but draws back from the opening.

I choose not to remind him that I’m more a thief than a lady and study my surroundings in the beams of sunlight that streak past the hatch.

A few rectangular shapes that I determine are cots lean against the wall near the ladder. In case a few soldiers need to hole up here for a while?

Beyond them, the room stretches off into darkness, the light only catching on the edges of crates and chests. I step closer and make out the shape of an empty lantern propped up on one stack.

Squinting and groping, I find a set of shelves carved into the wall that hold, among other things, a tin of beeswax candles and a flint. In a matter of seconds, I have the lantern flaring. The sweet scent of the wax mingles with the loamy odor of the packed soil around me.

Stavros must catch the flare of the light. “Keep watch,” he says to someone above and climbs down to join me with Alek following close behind. I guess he’s left Casimir and Rheave on guard duty.

The lantern has illuminated the entire space, which is rather impressively large for a secret room no one much expects to use. There are houses in Slaughterwell you could fit in here.

It appears Stavros knows his way around. He strides past the shelves and the crates to the very back of the room, where the lantern’s glow is now reflecting off several metal surfaces.

A sort of weapons rack is embedded in the back wall. The former general taps his fingers against the hilts of several swords that don’t meet his approval and finally picks out a short one as well as a fighting dagger that I suspect is for Casimir and a hunting knife.

“Get over here,” he says with a motion to Alek. “See if you can find at least one blade you’ll feel reasonably comfortable with. Ivy, you can take your pick too.”

Back in familiar territory, I pluck up the smallest two knives and fit them into the vacant sheaths in one boot and on one thigh.

As the scholar studies the weaponry with a grimace, Stavros hefts a bow and a quiver of arrows that was leaning against the wall nearby. He considers the other few quivers and shakes his head. “We can only carry so much. But the daimon will be happy.”

While he carries our new arms up to the surface, I pry at the lids on a few of the crates. One proves to be full of various nuts, while another holds strips of dried bloodfruit.

I hold up one of those to show Stavros as he returns. “So many delicious meals ahead.”

He raises an eyebrow at my sarcastic tone. “Better than starving.”

I suppose he has a point there, Julita says, but she doesn’t sound any more enthusiastic about the rations than I am.

Alek has shoved a thin dagger under the belt around his tunic and is checking the chests. “Here are some blankets,” he announces. “There are spare clothes down here too, but they don’t look any warmer than what we already have.”

Stavros nods. “They stock what’s appropriate for the area. If we want heavier wear, we’ll need to find a stash up north.”

I move to the chest to inspect the offerings. “We should each grab a set anyway. Two layers is warmer than one.”

“Ah!” Stavros snatches up what looks like a ball of twine from a lower shelf. Closer to the lantern, I see it gleams like steel. “Wire will make for easier snares. You’ll have something to eat other than nuts and bloodfruit, Lady Thief.”

“Let us all rejoice.”

We paw through the rest of the supplies, but Stavros is right that there’s only so much we’ll be able to carry. We have to balance equipping ourselves with our need for haste.

As it is, carrying our findings to the surface, we determine that we can’t take quite as many blankets as I’d have preferred. We all put on an extra tunic now so that we don’t have to find space for them in the saddle bags.

Stavros gives the hatch one last look before he moves to cover it again, with a tense expression that dampens my delight at our find.

---