It was the first vow he had given her without demanding anything in return—to tether her to this world when she had every fear of leavingit.
Silently, she returned that vow.
She looked once more at the tomb’s lid, and this time she noticed that an old Saint was carved into the stone.A woman holding an olive tree.She squinted, trying to recall what that represented, but was unable to remember at this moment. She would mark the drawing in her notes to research later.
To Leena’s relief, she could not find Moira near the piano or anywhere else in the crypt.
Rami walked with a caged energy toward a tomb at the far end of the chamber. There was a type of madness on his face—the kind that wears the same face as anger but stretches further, coarser, as if desiring to set the whole world on fire.
A sudden fear gripped Leena at Rami’s expression. “Don’t further tempt Martin’s wrath.”
Rami spared her only one look—a look so full of bitterness that it sucked up all the air in the room. Rather than responding, he pushed all his weight into sliding the lid of the tomb aside, revealing rows and rows of tightly woven burlap bags inside.
Rami whistled. “There is enough here to buy all of New Algaraa District and the people inside it.”
Leena also stared. “You could buy all ofAlgaraawith this.”
Before Leena realized Rami’s intent, it was too late. His hand was already at the hilt of his sword, unsheathing it in one fluid motion, and bringing the blade down against the sacks, spilling the white powder inside like an offering.
“What are youdoing?” Leena jumped at him, attempting to grasp his arm, but he wrenched away from her. “Martin is already suspicious of us. He will gladly see us hang for this!”
Rami continued his slicing, tendons taut at the neck—up and down, up and down.
St. Silas’s long strides cut across the crypt, but by the time he grabbed Rami by the collar and threw him to the ground, it was too late.
White powder had spilled everywhere, like blood let on abattlefield. Humidity would render the drug useless. No buyer would touchit.
“You’ve just signed your death warrant,” Leena exclaimed, bringing her fist down on Rami’s chest. He grunted, but dodged her next hit. He brushed at the powder that coated his jacket white.
“Martin already wants me dead,” Rami responded. “At least now I’ve earned it.”
St. Silas’s expression was grim, standing over the white powder like freshly fallen snow. “No, you’ve just condemned us all.”
Rami halted, his brows tightening. “Martin won’t return to the crypts so soon. Very likely that trade with the Black Coats won’t occur until we are back in Golborne.”
“For your sake—for all our sakes—let us hope so.” The somber foreboding didn’t lift from St. Silas’s eyes as he turned away. “Come. Let’s find Avon’s tomb.”
Leena also swerved away from Rami, so furious she could barely see straight.
“I am heartily sick of these caves,” she spat.
They spent half an hour searching through the stones. Some of the tombs were so aged that she could no longer read the engravings.
It was Rami who ended the search.
“I found it,” he shouted.
St. Silas was at the far end of the room, and it seemed as if he hadn’t heard. Unable to wait another moment, Leena and Rami pushed open the lid, heaving from the effort, and looked down at the mass of skeleton and dust. All that youthful vitality, that power that had emanated from Lord Avon, that golden handsomeness, was now but a crumpled heap of bones.
Then she remembered the soft look in his eyes moments before he had strangled Moira, and she thought that decay was too good for him.
Rami, clearly disturbed, turned away, so Leena was left alone with what used to be Lord Avon. She bent down, staring into theskull with gaping holes for eyes, and whispered, “Come find me. You have left the living in unrest, so come find me and settle your debts.”
The corpse didn’t stir. Leena’s eyes raked through the rest of the tomb. It was empty.
“It’s not here.” Bleakness broke Leena’s voice. “After all that, the diaryisn’there.”
No one spokeas they traversed the passages from the Avon family resting place back toward the cellar. The mood was somber, and Leena could not stifle the horrible dejection she felt. They’d found nothing, and, what was worse, Leena was now in debt to Moira.
