“Shit, I didn’t bring anything to write with,” Terena muttered, patting her pockets. She usually kept a small notebook and charcoal on her, but hadn’t thought to unpack it while they’d searched for the shroud.
“Can you go up and grab it?”
Croak didn’t bother to look at her as he stuffed some of the ore into his pockets. “What?Youdo it.”
“Croak, really? It’s in my bag. Hurry and bring it back.”
He grumbled, stuffing more of the orichalcum into the pockets of his pants and sheathed his dagger before stomping off toward the rope. She didn’t bother to watch him make the climb, instead taking a step closer to the wall, tracing the words written in Ancient Greek. Wonder filled her as she read the story of the shroud and the power it was rumored to have.
The power to bring back the Olympian gods.
Cold shot down her spine, and she shivered.
Terena swung the torch to her right, eager for more. Shufflingforward a few steps, she read the names of the royal House of Galaneas, the last family to rule Agraboda, but no other mention of the gods.
She continued further, stopping when she spied something shadowed. The wall beveled deeper than the previous two. She’d missed it at first because of the shadows. As she drew nearer, the light revealed a small, wide table flashing in the light of the torch.
Terena took two steps closer and saw the table was pure gold with a gilded, oblong box sitting on top. She moved the torch closer and read the words above the box in the ancient language.
Defiling the tomb has proved our undoing.
Learn from us.
Forgive us.
The stories on the walls were of the fall of Ostapolis and King Selenas of Agraboda taking the shroud from Faybhen’s tomb.
Upon his return to Agraboda, the king presented the shroud to his wife as a gift.
The queen died that night. The king and their son a week later.
And someone had put the shroud in this sealed off chamber beneath the palace with a warning.
Terena wasn’t sure why, but she knew her visions of this place and the shroud weren’t meant to lead her to her death, despite what it had done to the city and its people.
She opened her mouth and sighed as she reached out a trembling hand and lifted the top of the box.
Tucked inside and folded neatly was a plain, white cloth. She touched it, her fingers tracing lightly over the linen.
Her heart raced.
Found you.
Croak mumbledas he climbed the rope, pulling himself out of the hole and stretching out on the ground beside it. He yanked his cloak around him, the chill of the stone beneath him seepingthrough to his wool tunic. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
When he opened them, confusion made him blink.
“Ren,” Croak called out as he slowly sat up, eyes darting around. “Terena!”
Terena came to the opening and held up the torch. “What?”
Croak didn’t answer. Rising to one knee, his hands stretched out to feel for the ground.
“Wait, what’s going on up there? Why’s it so dark?”
Croak shook his head, turning. His gaze narrowed. “I don’t know, but this is not natural. I can’t even see my own fucking hand!”
He slowly unsheathed his sword.
