Nothing but the sound of our labored breathing and quickening footfalls keeps us company.
Bes finally breaks the silence. “At least tell me we got the information before…”
“Before the Maestro was gunned down in the booth beside me?” Cec wonders, his voice breaking.Poor Cec.“Yes, I got it. As we feared, the German Third Reich is utilizing the GodMen in an official capacity to go after known mythic artifacts. But something worse is on the horizon—something we’ve been anticipating since the end of the Great War.” He pauses. “But we shouldn’t get into it here.”
Bes hastens. “Agreed.”
I have no idea what any of that means. Some part of me is desperate to ask more questions, but I can’t think beyond getting out of this place alive.
It’s impossible to tell whether we’ve spent minutes or hours stealing through the murk, with no end in sight. My only solace is that Bes appears to know what he’s doing; at least, he pretends he does. Has he taken this passage before? How did he know of its existence in the first place?
Will he answer me with another half-truth if I ask him?
Right as I’m beginning to wonder where the hell he’s taking us, he leads us around a corner. A couple dozen more paces and he immediately stops in his tracks. The light I noticed us walking toward is brighter here, illuminating a stone wall—and metal rungs going up it.
“Thank God,” I breathe.”
Shucking his jacket, Bes clicks his tongue. “I can’t believe you’re still thanking him, after all I’ve done for you.”
Cec chuckles, and the sound lightens my heart. I worried that what happened in the club had destroyed him.
“You mean, after all you’ve putmethrough? You’re lucky I even tolerate you,” I say, smirking.
Bes doesn’t respond to me. Instead, he hands Cec his cane back and leads him to the rungs. “Cec, you go first. At the top, there should be a grate. You’ll need to push it up with all your strength.”
Cec taps his cane on one of the metal rungs. “Noted.” Then he flexes his right arm muscle. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
God help me, I laugh.
“Once you’re topside,” Bes continues, “help Miss Hawkins up, and then I’ll bring up the rear.”
Now Cec snickers.
“Iwillsock you if you make an arse joke right now.”
Cec clicks his tongue. “You’d deny me humor in this time of uncertainty?”
I gather my wits. “He’s right, Cec. The more time we spend standing in one place, the likelier we are to get caught.”
“Now, I’ve heard everything,” he mutters. “The two of you actually agreeing on something.”
I snort softly. “Don’t get used to it.”
Cec starts to climb, and Bes and I stand side by side, watching him go.
“I don’t hear anyone up there,” Cec announces quietly, elation lightening his tone.
The weight on my chest lightens.Thank Christ.
A moment later, he grunts and swears. “It won’t budge.”
Fear rises up inside me again. “Goddammit.”
“Maybe don’t damn God while we’re trying to escape murderous fascists.” Cec grunts. “Just a thought.”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t dilly-dally,” I argue.
“Contrary to popular belief, Hawkins,” he tells me between quickened breaths, “I neither dilly nor dally.”
