Gordon studied the glimpses of wall between the stacked bones. “I’ve heard of these,” he said. “They’re dotted all over New England. Chambers just like this one, made of stone. They’re believed to be megalithic. I’ve never seen one this large.”
“It must have been here first,” Cordelia said, staring at the figure seated in the place of honor before her. “They must have chosen this plot of land because they could house her inside of it.”
“And then they built the crypt in front,” he continued where she left off. “To hide it.”
“No,” Cordelia told him. “To keep them close. To enlarge it.” She turned to face Gordon. “It was never blood and soil. It was always this.Bone.”
“Bone and soil.” Gordon grinned. “I’ll inform the neighborhood kids.”
“This is why we can’t leave,” Cordelia said. “This protects us, feeds us. We’re bound to these remains. It’s why the dynasty trust exists. To keep this and us safe,together.To protect the bloodline.”
Cordelia neared the staff, studying it up close. “I recognize this,” she told Gordon. “It reminds me of Mom’s tattoo.”
“The rune?” he asked.
She nodded. “It was very crudely done. She must have made it herself. Hella told me our mother took one of her teeth to stay alive when she left. That shekept it close to her heart.”
Gordon approached her. “You can put ash in the ink,” he said. “They do it for memorial tattoos.”
Of course.She’d burned it first, ground it down. Like with all the recipes Eustace was working on.
“Who are they all?” Gordon wondered, turning in slow circles beside her, taking in the countless bones.
“Our ancestors,” Cordelia told him. “Just like the ones in the crypt. Only older. Ancient.” Cordelia knelt before the bones of Hella and gently touched one of the pointy digits on the hand. Bits of sinewy skin clung, holding each piece together. The dark blur of tattoos could still be seen on some. She rose and turned to face Gordon. “I need you to go get Eustace. Bring her down here.”
He paused, staring at her. “But the IV.”
She shook her head. “If I’m right about this—and I know I am—she won’t need that anymore.”
Gordon looked like he might argue again.
“Hurry!” she told him. “Please. You have to trust me.”
He pressed his lips together and rushed out, leaving Cordelia alone in the dark of the crypt, with only the bones for company.
CHAPTER THIRTYTHEFALL
ABABY, SHE THOUGHTwith wonder and fear standing before the mummified remains of Hella.Gordon’sbaby.Cordelia placed a hand on her womb. She’d never given motherhood serious thought before, but when she considered Gordon as a father, she couldn’t help but smile.
Someone darkened the doorway they’d made, cutting off what little light traveled down the stairs. She took a step up. “Did you bring her?” she asked, assuming it was Gordon.
There was no reply.
Cordelia took another step up, and another. One more and the bit of light that remained reached her eyes. The shape, the face came into focus. And they were not Gordon’s at all.
Arkin peered down at her, his eyes lit with a hungry fire.
“What are you doing here?” Cordelia spat.
He grinned, and she saw that his teeth were browning near the gums, the incisors longer and pointier than she remembered. Hella’s words ran through her mind—Teeth won’t save you. You need something sharper.
It was then she noticed the other, subtle differences in him. His white-blond hair was a touch longer, shaggier around the ears, his face leaner at the cheeks and temples. And there was asmall mole beneath the lower lash line of his right eye. But more than these details, it was the fire burning in him—the leer and the loom—the way he looked like he could swallow her whole. He had none of Arkin’s fear or reticence, and all the perversity and hubris of the man Eustace had seen.
“You’re not Arkin at all, are you?” she asked, feeling the alarm begin to mount in her belly. “Let me pass, and I won’t hurt you.”
His smile only widened at that. But then, to her surprise, he moved aside.
She took another step forward, and a hand reached out. Cordelia grasped it, and was pulled into the crypt by none other than Bennett Togers.
