“We appreciate it,” Rav said, already moving to place the first camera in a shadowed corner. He pressed it into a crevice, adjusting the angle slightly before stepping back. The device was barely larger than a matchbox, its matte-black casing ridiculously obvious if anyone shone a flashlight at it.
Once he was done, Mario continued leading us through the tunnels. A few minutes later, we reached our destination, where Hermes stood silently. The space was larger than the others, with a ceiling punctuated by drainage holes that let in thin beams of daylight.
“Che cazzo,” muttered Mario when we arrived. Modern scaffolding had been erected along the wall behind Hermes, providing access to one of the outlets.
“I assume that doesn’t belong here, either?” I asked, as though his reaction hadn’t told me what I needed to know.
“Sacrilege.”
“This must be important,” I said, surveying the space. “But why?”
While Mario examined the scaffolding, Rav handed Percival a couple of cameras to place in strategic locations.
I pulled a pair of nitrile gloves from my pack, donned them, withdrew one of the Greek Fire field test kits, and rubbed the reaction strip over various surfaces. I dropped it into the clear pouch, sealed the top, and snapped the inner ampule. I shook it for ten seconds, but nothing happened. Flicking it a few times didn’t change anything. If any trace of Greek Fire had been on the surfaces I tested, the strip would have turned black.
“I finished with my cameras,” Rav said, approaching as I shook the second test kit, with a sampling from the scaffolding. “Have you found anything?”
“Nothing,” I replied, flicking the negative test a few more times. “No chemical residue. They must be planning to bring in the actual Greek Fire closer to the event.”
“Makes sense. The less time their equipment is down here, the less chance of them being caught.”
I moved toward one of the main drainage outlets—a terracotta pipe about eight inches in diameter that led upward. Climbing onto the first level of scaffolding, I angled my headlamp into the opening, and the light flashed. “There’s something here.”
Rav was beside me instantly, steadying me on the scaffolding. His big hands on my waist. The brief contact sent a wave of heat through my system that had nothing to do with danger and everything to do with memory.
Of a tiny scorpion skittering across the ground.
I pushed the memory away and grabbed my phone. I took a photo and passed it down to him. “Take a look.”
Inside the pipe, a metal fitting had been installed—a modern addition to the ancient terracotta. I carefully reached in to touch the fitting.
“It’s threaded. Some kind of connector or attachment point.” I turned to face Rav. “But it’s odd—the diameter is much smaller than I’d expect. We talked about needing significant volume to move the liquid any distance, and this doesn’t match that concept.”
“Test it?”
I did as suggested, with the same result. “Still nothing.”
He hummed aloud. “You think Noah was wrong about their plan?”
“I don’t know.” I chewed my lower lip, thinking. “Based on the dimensions and configuration, this setup would be more suitable for moving lighter molecules. Maybe the powder form?”
“The powder form is inert until ignited, right?”
“Makes a fucking mess once it’s burning.” Three years ago, the thought might have churned my stomach. But my team at Pendragon had investigated enough horrible people that I’d almost grown numb to the depths of human cruelty. “But it contradicts Noah’s warning about their plans. He said liquid, specifically.”
“They could still pump liquid through it, right? Even if it’s smaller?” He helped me down and stepped back, giving me space.
“They could.”
Percival joined us by the scaffolding. “All cameras are in position.”
“Good,” Rav said. “We’ll have constant surveillance on this chamber.”
“Do you need to see anything else?” Mario checked his watch. “I have reports to file before the day’s end.”
We completed our documentation of the chamber, taking additional samples and photographs of the modifications. But when we should have been leaving, I lingered, staring up at the terracotta pipe with the connector in it. “It’s not right.”
“Figure something out?” Rav slung his pack and joined me.
