Page 44 of Tomb of Ancients
“Exactly as I said it,” I added. “I won’t have you worming out of this. If you do not remove Father’s spirit from me when I return, having destroyed the white book, then the deed to Coldthistle House and the Black Elbion are mine. And I warn you, I will check that contract over a dozen times if I must.”
“You’re learning,” he muttered. “I’m not sure if I should be relieved or annoyed.”
“Don’t push me.” At that, his eyes flicked up from his work. I continued, “I know why you’re making me wait, why you want Father’s influence to remain as long as possible. You need me to defend against the shepherd.”
“An astute observation.” But he was teasing, and rolled his eyes, writing out the remainder of the contract. I could see him tacking on a clause for Dalton’s part in it, and I would be studying that, too. “I know it would never occur to you that Imight have somewhat-less-than-evil intentions, but my feeling is that you will want that unholy strength in you to survive the tomb. All that you have seen, all that you have survived, will be nothing like what it will demand of you.”
Severed fingers. Severedbody. Cracks in the skin that bled golden light. Madness.
I swallowed, anxious, and turned my attention to Mother.
“And you know nothing of this place? The Tomb of Ancients?” I asked.
Her eyes went soft, and she tilted her head to the side. The long pink braids of her hair were undone, the long tendrils combed out over one shoulder. She pushed her hands into that tumbling mass of hair and idly began making a plait. “My heart says I know it, long for it, like a child fresh from the womb longs to be swaddled. I know it and yet I do not; I have no memories of it, but to hear the words spoken: Tomb of Ancients...” She shook her head and let go of her hair. “I never thought to study such things. I never yearned to go back to the place where we began.”
Mr. Morningside dashed off the final line and blew on the page, then handed it across to me, taking up his tea again. His eyes were distant. Cold. “I pray you never see it, never go near it—”
The lines I cared most about had been copied down correctly, and I put down my signature next to his, unaware that he hadtrailed off midthought. Then I heard Chijioke crash through the door, gasping for breath.
“They’re here,” he shouted, his hand pressed over his heart. “The Upworlders. They’ve come.”
“What incredible timing they have,” Mr. Morningside groused, standing. He took the contract and rolled it up tightly, then placed it in his leather satchel. “We will need all your fury, Louisa. Give them your worst. We must draw them here in great numbers and give Dalton time to recover the white book. And then? Then it will be your time to see the Tomb of Ancients.”
Chapter Twenty-One
1247, West of Cappadocia
There was nothing for it—I was never going to sleep. We burned Faraday’s body far off the road, then returned to our initial camp to collect the horses and ride out. None of us were keen to sleep so close to where the demon had met his doom. Nobody spoke,though I could feel Ara working her way up to a lecture, her mouth a tight line as we galloped through the night.
We stopped leagues from our destination, in the last vestige of hills before the land descended into a shallow valley and the salt lake began. I crawled out of my bedroll and found a place to relieve myself, then noticed I was not alone in my sleeplessness. Henry stood at the edge of our little camp, arms crossed, his eyes inscrutable as he stared out at the white valley below. The salt. I know he does not share my fear of the place, but I can think of nothing but Faraday’s warnings. And that creature... It was not one of ours, and it apparently wasn’t one of Henry’s demonic friends, either.
“I’m going to say it again,” I whispered. He didn’t move. “I think we should pack it in and go home. This has become something else, Henry. It’s more than an obsession, it’s more than dangerous. It’s...”
“All perfectly reasonable, I assure you,” he finished. He ran a hand through his wild black hair and inched toward me, then laid his head on my shoulder and blew out a breath. “Do you ever think about it? Eternity?”
“Occasionally.” Leave it to Henry to distract me with philosophy.
“I think about it all the time,” he said. “I don’t want to be old. How long will it take to be old? I already feel ancient, and by our standards I’m a child. It’s ghastly.”
“Oh hush, you will never look old,” I chuckled.
“Not on the outside. But on the inside? I feel it already on the inside. Like I’m breathing coffin dust. Like I’m already entombed. But it just goes on for us. I don’t know if I can bear it. What will I do? Take up needlepoint?”
No answer would suit him, but I had to try. He was inconsolable when he descended into one of his melancholic moods. I wrapped my arm around his waist and held him close and hoped that touch would bring him back to himself. “You’ll be wise and powerful. You can... I don’t know, live up a mountaintop and dispense wisdom to any who dare make the climb.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no jellied lamb up a mountain.”
“But you will be wise,” I said. “You could be wise now and listen to us. Ara agrees—this is a fool’s errand. I have no idea what you will be like when you’re old, but by God, I should like to see it.”
He kissed my chin and then turned away, unwinding himself from my grasp. “I love you, you spicy imp, but you’re wrong. I know what I’m doing. I know... what I can look forward to. I think I know what eternity looks like.” Only a few steps from me, he stopped and then turned, hurling one more question my way. “Honestly, Dal, can you live with what we did to them? We all but snuffed out a flame, simply because it dared to burn before us. Will you promise me something?”
“Yes,” I replied, meaning it. “Anything.”
“Promise me you’ll come with me when I find the Binders. IfI can find where the books are made, promise me you’ll come see the place.”
Something itched at the back of my mind, but stupidly, I agreed.
“I promise,” I said. “I’ll come with you.”
