I wondered what the catch was.

Maybe she was being nice. Maybe I actually had an ally in this place. Or maybe this was a good cop/bad cop ploy. I’d put my trust in her—she kept giving me things, after all. Water, food, clothes. I was supposed to cling to her, and they’d use that trust to manipulate me into doing … whatever they were trying to do. Or maybe I was overthinking this.

I didn’t much care what the ulterior motives were, I was putting my clothes on.

Chapter 9

I HAD LIGHT at this end of the tunnel. I had room to move around. And I felt a million times better being dressed.

I went exploring.

The antechamber, more of an extrawide part of the tunnel, didn’t have much to it. It was small, the remnant of mining activity. A vein of ore might have been dug out, and this and the adjoining cave were what was left. The old rails ran straight through, out the other side. I couldn’t guess how deep underground this was. Air must have been coming in from somewhere, because I was still breathing. It smelled musty, like chalk and silt, but not stale. The walls shimmered, and in some places had rounded mounds of colored rock, places where the water seeped through and deposited minerals in strange colors, patterns, and pencil-thin baby stalactites. I had no interest in touching the walls more than I had to, leery of the silver there.

I went down the short tunnel into the ritual chamber, picking up the lantern there to study the room and its details better.

In a panicked moment, I wondered if the circle and star on the floor had been drawn in blood. I didn’t smell blood, but I was starting to not trust my senses. After kneeling and studying the markings, I saw they were black, thick, and opaque—ink or paint of some kind. Decisive, indelible. Dozens of symbols marked the floor and walls, their shapes and shadows bending strangely in the light as I brought the lantern close and moved it across. I recognized some of them in the most general sense—there were zodiac signs, Greek letters, Roman numerals, shapes that might have been Egyptian hieroglyphs, words in what I thought was Hebrew. I didn’t know what any of it actually meant, except that they were Western in origin—Judeo-Christian, Greco-Roman. Medieval alchemical stuff. Whoever did this—the woman magician?—must have taken hours to draw it all.

Amelia would have known what all this meant. A pang of homesickness struck, along with gratitude that my friends weren’t here and in danger. I could be rescued, or I could break out on my own. I didn’t need to share the whole experience. I had a sudden, horrible thought: Tom wasn’t here, they hadn’t captured him. But maybe they’d killed him instead, and that was why the cavalry hadn’t come yet. Tears fell; I brushed them away. I’d get out of this, I would. Tom was fine, everyone was fine, everything was fine.

Continuing my circuit of the room, I found objects hanging from spikes driven into the walls at five places, corresponding with the points of the star on the floor. Amulets, talismans, whatever. They looked antique, with that worn and aged patina that very old items had. Again, I recognized some of them in the most general sense—a Maltese cross, an ankh. But I couldn’t have said where they came from or what they meant, and if they meant anything in relation to each other.

I raised the lantern, trying to make out the cave’s ceiling, but it was too high for the light to reach. A black depth, that was all.

This was a hodgepodge of symbols and ritual, from Europe and the Middle East. If I had to guess, I’d say this was all done by an overactive history student playing at magic. They’d stand around wearing black velveteen cloaks, speaking in pig latin. But the four of them had looked so deadly serious.

Having seen what real rituals, real power could do, I was not feeling good about what rituals they might be performing here. Especially since they seemed to think they needed me to continue whatever the hell it was they were doing.

The outer door scraped against the stone floor again. I thought of hiding, but where would I go?

I went back through the tunnel to the antechamber, faced the door, and waited. I still had the lantern in hand. Maybe I could use it as a weapon.

The werewolf and were-lion entered; I smelled them before I saw them. The door scraped again, shutting this time. Probably not locked. If I could overpower them both, I might have a way out. What were the odds? I set down the lantern.

They emerged from the tunnel into the chamber. We stared at each other. It was like none of us knew what to say.

“I don’t suppose if I asked nicely you would let me go,” I said finally. My voice scratched, my throat aching from all the shouting and dehydration. So much for sounding tough. At least with my clothes on I had an easier time standing tall and showing my dominance. Perceived dominance.

“It’s daylight,” the werewolf said, gesturing backward to some theoretical exit. “Kumarbis is asleep.”

I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. Did that mean I could go? Would they really let me go? “Kumarbis—the vampire?” I asked.

The woman, the were-lion, nodded. “This is our chance to explain this to you—”

“About time,” I muttered.

They moved forward, reaching to me—and I took a step back. They looked like attackers, coming to finish me off at last.

“Please, don’t be frightened,” the were-lion said. Her voice was light, beautiful. If we were having coffee in a hip bistro I could have listened to her all day long. But we weren’t. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said. I itched, I had to move, so I started pacing back and forth along the back wall of the chamber, my bare feet scraping on cool stone. Rapid steps, my hands opening and closing into fists.

The two of them moved closer together, flinching back from me. I must have looked pretty crazy. But I had to let Wolf bleed out a little, or I’d scream. So I paced.

“I’m sorry about this. We’re both sorry,” the man said. He had a crisp accent that I couldn’t place. “Does that help?”

“Only if you let me go now.”

“We can’t do that.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“If you’ll stop, sit and be calm, I’ll explain,” he said. He sounded oh so rational. I didn’t trust him, how could I? March six steps, turn, march six steps, glaring at them the whole time.

“Please,” she said in that melodic voice.