“What’s your business here?” he said. “This is an archaeological site.”
Mira’s chest tightened.
“Here to see Sibyl,” Monty said.
The man looked him up and down, then stepped aside so they could move past him.
“That’s Adams. The gang pays ‘im to look the other way,” Monty whispered once they were down the stairs. They kept moving until they came to an archway that stretched into a tunnel.
Mira’s breath stuttered. Byron took her hand.
“It’ll be all right,” he said. “I’ll be with you this time.”
She nodded. Monty looked back.
“Do you not like cramped spaces, Miss?”
“It’s a little more than that.”
“Don’t worry, it opens up soon enough. There’s even a space where you can see the sky.”
She nodded and Monty stepped into the darkness.
“It’ll be dark as pitch for a minute, shut your peepers if it bothers you, but just keep moving forward.”
They followed him in, a metallic smell to the warm, humid air. Mira held tight to Byron as they kept moving, trying not to think of bones beneath her feet.
“Almost there, love,” Byron whispered to her.
Monty wasn’t lying, and before she knew it, there was light up ahead. Moonlight.
“Bit of a tight squeeze here,” Monty said, getting onto his hands and knees and wriggling through the small opening.
“You go first,” Byron said.
The stone was damp as Mira crawled through the narrow passageway and out into the night air. There was an overhang above where they stood, held up by doric columns. This new space was open to the sky with a large, rectangular pool that glowed green in the moonlight. Stars reflected on its surface. A colonnade stood above the overhang on the far side, braced with scaffolding.
“They’re still working on this area,” Monty said. “Apparently those Roman coves used to bathe together here.”
Byron brushed himself off. “Fascinating.”
Monty led the way around the pool and up a couple of stairs. “The gang’ll be meeting back here.”
This tunnel was much shorter and led to a room with wooden planks built up as walkways. An orange-tinged waterfall rushed out of the wall at the far side and disappeared beneath the ancient brick floor.
“Is that where the famous Bath waters come from?” Mira asked, raising her voice to be heard over the rushing water.
Monty nodded. “All those gentry morts and rum cullys in the Grand Pump Room drinking water from ancient times. Strange to think.”
An archway led out of the room into another small chamber. Two women stood behind cases that folded out into little tables displaying an array of glittering goods that were being inspected by a man in a long, black coat. An alcove stood at the back with a basket inside it, and another woman sat on a stack of thick brick slabs that had likely been recently unearthed. The woman had wild, curly, brown hair that she had attempted to stuff under a white cap and wore a dirty blue and red dress. When she saw them she stood, arms folded across her chest.
“What are you doing back here, Fitzwilliam? You didn’t go and lose the job did you? You don’t need more papers, do you?”
“No, not at all Miss Sibyl. No one questioned the papers.”
“Course they didn’t.” She looked over Monty’s shoulder. “And who’d you bring, eh?”
Monty’s hand shook a little as he gestured to them, and Mira wondered how he’d ever made it as a thief.
