Page 25 of King's Reckoning
"No," both men said at once, then exchanged glances.
"We stick together," King said firmly. "Whatever's down there, it's affected people before. Changed them. We watch each other's backs."
The way he looked at Reed when he said it—an unspoken message passing between them—made Rowan suddenly realize how much trust her father had placed in him. Not just with club business, but with her safety.
They moved through the overgrown cemetery, following the path indicated in Elena's journal. The headstones here were older, worn smooth by decades of weather. Names of the town's founders, early settlers, and forgotten sons and daughters lost to time.
The church's foundation stones remained largely intact despite the fire, blackened but still solid. Rowan ran her fingers along them, searching for the symbol her mother had described.
"Here," Reed called softly. He'd found it—a weathered carving in the cornerstone beneath where the altar would have stood. A circle inscribed within a triangle, just as Elena had described.
King knelt beside them, pressing his palm against the stone. "Now what?"
Rowan consulted the journal. "Mom's notes say there's a mechanism. Pressure points that need to be activated in sequence." She traced the pattern with her finger, feeling for irregularities in the stone.
Reed watched her work, his dark eyes intent. "Just like at Flash's grave. Your mother really did think of everything."
"She had to," Rowan said softly. "She was protecting something that could change the world."
The stone shifted beneath her touch, revealing a narrow opening. Cool, damp air rushed up from below.
"This is it," she whispered.
King produced a tactical flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness below. Stone steps descended into what appeared to be a crypt, but unlike any Rowan had seen before. The walls were covered in the same symbols they'd found on the boxes, intricate patterns that seemed to shift in the moving light.
“I feel like Indiana Jones,” Rowan muttered, catching Reed’s small smirk from the corner of her eye.
"I'll go first," Reed said, already checking his weapon. "King, take rear guard. Rowan in the middle."
She might have objected to being protected at another time, but the intensity in Reed's eyes stopped her. This wasn't just about the mission anymore. This was personal for all of them.
The descent felt longer than it should have been, the stairs winding deeper beneath the church than seemed physically possible. The air grew colder, more oppressive with each step, pressing against Rowan's skin like a living thing.
"The resonance is getting stronger," she said, feeling that familiar vibration in her bones. "Like the box in the clubhouse, but more intense."
"I feel it too," King admitted, his voice tight. "Like something's watching us."
The staircase opened into a circular chamber. In the center stood a stone sarcophagus, its surface etched with the same symbols they'd encountered before. But unlike the graves they'd excavated, this one stood open, its contents already disturbed.
"We're too late," Rowan said, her heart sinking.
"Maybe not." Reed was examining the floor around the sarcophagus. "These drag marks are fresh. Whatever was here, it was taken within recently."
King cursed. "Blackwood's people got here first."
"But they didn't get everything." Reed pointed to a small alcove behind the sarcophagus, nearly invisible in the shadows. There, resting on a stone shelf, was another box identical to the ones they'd found before.
Rowan approached it cautiously, her mother's warnings about the safeguards echoing in her mind. But as her fingers brushed the metal surface,instead of the painful whine she expected, she felt a warm hum. Recognition.
"Blood-locked," she murmured, remembering Abby's words. "It was waiting for us."
She lifted the box carefully, feeling its weight. As it came into the light, the symbols etched into its surface caught the beam of King's flashlight, creating the illusion of movement across the metal surface.
"Professionals," Reed said, continuing to examine the crypt. "Clean work. They knew what they were looking for."
"Blackwood's team," Rowan agreed, carefully placing the box in her backpack. "But they missed this. It was hidden exactly where Mom's journal said it would be."
They searched the chamber thoroughly but found no other signs of what had been taken. The disturbed dust patterns suggested something large had been removed from the sarcophagus itself - another box perhaps, or something bigger.
