“Holy shit.” I gasp.
Bioluminescent algae crawls along the stone walls, casting a blue and purple glow over the riches hidden in the cavern, the heat from our interaction forgotten as he helps me to my feet.
There has to be almost thirty square feet of treasure in here. I can only imagine how crazy archeologists and history buffs would get looking around. There are various gold coinsthat could’ve been from the Ottoman Empire, golden statues, porcelain vases, silver trays, jade carvings, curved swords with tasseled ends, a crown of diamonds, and chests upon chests of jewelry.
The British Museum would have a fucking field day.
“What is this place?” I whisper.
“My treasures.” His voice is gruff.
Ordus won’t look at me.
Why won’t he look at me? I want to scream. He was all over me when he first kidnapped me, and now he’s acting like I’m his roommate he doesn’t particularly like talking to.
“I…” Ordus clears his throat, leaving two tentacles around me before giving me a wide berth. I lean against him as ripples of fatigue chip away at my energy. “The collection is bare. My family’s hoard remains at the palace, guarded by krakens and magic.”
“Bare?” I echo, marveling at the chest holding a ruby the size of my fist.
Bareis most definitely not the word I would’ve chosen.
The items in this room would set me up for life. If not my whole life, then for sure the few years I have before someone decides I need to be taken out.
“This is amazing.” I’ve never wished I took ancient history at school before, but there’s a first for everything.
One of his tentacles drops away when I move deeper into the cave, stepping on coins to get close enough to make things out. There’s so much treasure everywhere. I don’t know where to start. I feel like I need to use gloves to touch anything.
I practically have to wade through piles upon piles of gold coins and gem-studded jewelry: belts, necklaces, brooches, earrings, bracelets, rings.
My heart is hammering against my chest with the panic levels of someone carrying out a heist. Alarm bells go off in myhead, blaring that I shouldn’t be here. I’ll get arrested for theft, or breaking and entering, because none of this is real. There’s no way krakens are real, and there sure as shit isn’t any way this room exists beneath an island in the middle of nowhere.
And there’s more at thepalace? I thought nothing else could surprise me, butthis?
Forgoing any kind of proper ancient-artifact-handlingetiquette, I pick up the giant ruby—I think it’s a ruby, at least—as big as my fist. I gawk at the light catching on it—and it was justthrownon top of the gold coins and pearl necklaces.
“The elders claimed this belonged to a princess whose ship sank.”
My jaw drops. Fuck off. Really? “Which one?” Diana?
“I don’t remember.”
I wouldn’t have known who even if he did. I carefully set down the ruby and pick up an emerald—I think—the size of my palm. “Is this from the same ship?”
His lips tighten. “Unsure.”
I pry for information regarding everything I pick up: an oval sapphire necklace as big as my thumb, another necklace covered in teardrop, bluish diamonds. I don’t know jack about any of this, but Tommy’s mom was in love with this type of thing.
Ordus’ response eventually condenses down to a stiff shrug paired with a clenched jaw, like he committed the gravest crime by not having the answer.
I grab one of the many necklaces in the cave, but this one is different from the rest. It’s in its own special, handwoven basket, a mix of diamonds, pearls, sapphires, opals, and seashells.
“It was my sister’s.” I snap my attention up to Ordus, and he nods at the necklace. “Mother gifted it to Chlaena on her name day before I was born, and it became her favorite necklace.” The gold glints as I turn it over in my hand. There’s a damaged mechanism bent at a bad angle, at odds with the perfection ofthe rest of the chain, but it still works. “The clasp snapped when I was a child. I remember seeing Chlaena cry for the first time in my life.”
“And you fixed it,” I guess.
He dips his chin. A small smile pulls at my lips, imagining a mini Ordus fussing with a human item the same way I’ve seen him do many times over the past five weeks.
“The last time she wore it was on her wedding day, two months before she was killed.”
