Barrington nodded. “She’s not waiting to be saved.”
They left the house with new fire in their step.
The mine awaited.
The ride was swift and dark. Fog clung low across the fields, as if trying to slow them down. The path narrowed near the ridge, then fell away into a dry cut of land where even the weeds grew crooked.
The quarry rose like a scar.
They left the horses in the trees.
Simms took the east ridge as planned. Barrington and Alex moved low across the brush, toward the mine entrance. It was a rough-hewn arch framed in stone, half-obscured by creeping brambles. An old iron door stood ajar, its hinges streaked with rust, its edges blackened by age and soot.
There was no sound. There were no guards.
Barrington drew his pistol. Alex tested the latch. Together, they went inside.
The air grew colder immediately, damp and sharp with the scent of earth and coal. Lantern light pressed against the walls, damp stone, timber braces, and old rails sunk into the floor. The mine sloped gently down, splitting into a narrow corridor that ran straight, then turned, then branched again.
They followed the main passage, lanterns low, the silence shifting from hollow to taut. Then a voice echoed from the shadows ahead.
“That’s far enough.”
Everly stepped into view, flanked by two men. Georgina stood behind him, her hands bound, her expression calm but wary.
Alex didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Everly smiled. “Let’s talk about what she’s worth to you.” He straightened and brushed dust from his sleeve. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d come.”
Georgina stood just behind Everly, her wrists bound. Her chin was lifted, but her eyes flicked to Alex, steady and sure.
Alex stepped forward. Barrington stood just behind, his pistol raised but steady.
“You have something to say. Say it.” Alex glared at him.
“I do.” Everly tucked his gloves into his coat pocket, unhurried. “You’ve been digging. So have I. And we both know where this ends if you push further.” He withdrew a folded paper from his coat. “This is what I’m willing to offer. Georgina’s release. Her safe return. And no more interference.”
Alex didn’t blink. “You don’t get to decide what ‘safe’ means.”
Everly’s smile thinned. “In exchange, I want Rowland’s records. All of them. And your silence. No inquiries. No tribunals. No leaks to Whitehall.”
“You think we’ll walk away,” Barrington said.
“I think you know what happens if you don’t.” His tone sharpened. “The Order isn’t dying. It’s shifting. It always has.”
Georgina’s voice cut through. “And it always leaves blood in its wake.”
Everly turned. “You—”
“I know exactly what I’m saying.” Her wrists were bound, but her fingers moved deftly, drawing a folded page from her sleeve. “This shows your payments to collapse the supports at Ashdown Hill. The deaths. And here—” she turned the page “—more payments, same plan, different mine. You weren’t just after Rowland. You meant to bury Carver next.”
Everly drew his pistol and raised it, aiming squarely at Alex.
A shot rang out from the shadows, sharp and final.
Everly jerked backward with a grunt, one hand clutching his side. His pistol clattered to the ground.
Carver stepped into the light, smoke curling from the barrel of his gun.
