cannibalistic, butsurprisingly advanced insofar as literacy and mathematics. Theyworshiped a-”
“Books,” Amaranthe said. “I’d like to havetime to look for Sicarius and Basilard tonight. The entrances?”
“Ah, of course. There’s an undergroundentrance coming up from the ancient tunnels beneath Stumps, but theinstallation of the city sewer system destroyed a lot of thosepassages. Oh, wait. I recall a reference to a trapdoor under thedais up top.”
Amaranthe nodded, remembering how Sicariushad appeared up there without using the stairs. She had wondered ifthere might be a door up there somewhere.
“And it connects with this tunnel?” Shepointed through the gate.
“I believe so. The passages do wind around inthere, and I can’t promise to be an unerring guide, but I have somememory of the layout from the maps in the texts I… Where are yougoing?”
Already heading for the stairs, Amaranthewaved toward the top of the pyramid. “Up. You can keep talking onthe way if you want.”
“But it’s not a requirement,” Maldynado said,jogging after her.
Books muttered something to Akstyr about hisknowledge not being fully appreciated. Akstyr responded with hisusual, “Whatever.”
When Amaranthe reached the top, she huntedaround for signs of the trapdoor. Sicarius, she remembered, hadappeared behind her when she had been near the stairs, lookingdown. She knelt and prodded around the base of the altar, whichstill sported the headless statue with its two wings, clawed feet,and furry torso.
“Did your studies tell you how to open thistrapdoor?” Amaranthe asked Books.
“Not that I recall,” he said.
“You can recite the dates of each reign ofevery emperor since Dorok the First,” Maldynado said. “Why can’tyou remember something useful like this?”
“Historical tomes rarely advise people on howto break into ancient structures through unguarded entrances,”Books said. “I believe they like to discourage the pillaging ofgoods inside.”
“We’re not pillaging anything,” Maldynadosaid.
“Unless there’s something good to pillage,”Akstyr said. “Is there?”
“Not that I’d tell you about,” Bookssaid.
Amaranthe groped about the stone floor. Thelantern light did little to illuminate the subtle nuances in theancient blocks, but her fingers found dents and divots. She poked afew and nothing happened. She moved to the two rear columnssupporting the roof covering the altar.
Her knee clunked against a bump, and shewinced. She investigated the object, a slightly elevated triangularstone. She-and her knee-found it suspicious that it stuck out whennothing else did. Amaranthe tried pulling and pushing it. Neitherworked. Maybe a turn? She rotated it to the left, as if she wereunscrewing a lid on a jar.
The floor disappeared beneath her.
Amaranthe dropped into darkness with astartled squawk. Though surprised, she twisted in the air, movingquickly enough to get her feet beneath her. The landing jarred her,but she softened her knees enough that she did not injureherself.
Unfortunately, her lantern did not survivethe fall unscathed. It had gone out as it dropped, and clanks andclatters echoed from the stone walls as it bounced several times,then rolled to a stop in the darkness. Close, dusty air wrappedabout Amaranthe, intruding upon her nostrils. It smelled likevermin had died nearby. Maybe other things as well.
“Amaranthe?” Books called from above. “Areyou…well?”
She had their only lantern-well, the darknesshad it at the moment-but she could make out the men’s silhouettesas they leaned over a three-by-three-foot hole in the ceiling. Sheopened her mouth to respond, but a sneeze assailed her nostrilsinstead.
“Is that a yes?” Books asked.
“Yes. Looks like I found the trapdoor.”
“Looks like,” Maldynado drawled.
“We can’t see anything,” Books said, leaningforward and patting around the trapdoor entrance. “How far down areyou? Is there a ladder?”
“Maybe ten or twelve feet, and I don’t know.I’ll see if I can relight the lantern. After I find it.”
Amaranthe knelt and swept her hands acrosscold, smooth stone. Cool air whispered past her cheeks. Aboveground, it had been a warm summer evening, but down here, sheshivered in her thin trousers and half-sleeve shirt.
It took a few moments to find the first wall,and she determined she was in a room, not a corridor. Some sort ofpreparation area for priests performing ceremonies on the altarabove?
She found the lantern. A soft thump came frombehind her.
“Who-” she started to ask.
“Me,” Maldynado said. “Can’t let a girlwander around a dark pit by herself.”
“You can if you don’t know if there’s a wayout,” Akstyr said. He and Books waited above.
“Want us to go grab some lanterns?” Booksasked.
“Let me see if I can get this one relitfirst.” Amaranthe patted her pockets down. “I have matches.”Somewhere.
“Is one lantern sufficient lighting forpyramid spelunking?” Books asked, his tone implying he hardlythought so.
“It’s a long jog to the boneyard and back.”Amaranthe struck a match and lit the lantern. “And I think youshould join us since you’re the pyramid expert. Akstyr can stay outthere in case we…” Got themselves hopelessly lost or trapped bythe enemy? No, she shouldn’t say that. Too demoralizing. “Needbackup,” she finished.
The lantern light revealed a chamber filledwith cobwebs and layers of dust that made her long for the giantsteam-powered cleaning machines she had described to the thieves inthe tenement building. Rows of niches on the walls had long sincebeen emptied of their contents, though cobwebs cloaked them likecocoons, and one could almost imagine this place still held ancienttreasures.
“Not very likely when we’re in the middle ofa city with a population of a million,” Amaranthe told herself.
“That’s why I came down,” Maldynado said.
“To treasure hunt?”
“No, to keep you from talking to yourself.That’s a sign of a lonely, disturbed mind.” He drew his rapier andswiped at a cobweb curtain dangling above a narrow, low-ceilingedstairwell leading down. “This way, you can pretend you’re talkingto me.”
“Oh, good.” She turned her head toward thetrapdoor again. “Books, are you coming? We need your insight.”
“Since I so rarely hear those words, I’d bestjoin you.”
“We’d crave your insight more if you gave usless of it,” Maldynado told him. “They say scarcity createsdesire.”
“I’m heading down,” Amaranthe said. The mencould snipe at each other all night if she let them.
She drew her short sword, but waited forBooks to shimmy over the side of the hole, dangle from the lip fora moment, then drop down. He landed in an easy crouch. She smiled.He might not realize it, but Sicarius’s training had brought Booksa
A couple of steps down the stairs convincedAmaranthe to return her sword to its sheath. The narrowness andsteepness made her want to brace herself on the wall as shedescended, and the lantern seemed the more important thing to holdaloft. Blackness swallowed the bottom of the stairs, but sheimagined the fall could be long and far should she lose herbalance.
“What kind of tiny-footed people built thisplace?” Maldynado asked after a bout of cursing when one of hisboots slipped.
“Actually,” Books said, “it’s quitefascinating. The Pey’uhara, the first lake dwellers, were-”
“No, no, never mind,” Maldynado blurted. “Ididn’t mean it. I don’t want to know.”
“It’s a shame you prefer to wallow in a mireof ignorance when knowledge floats by within reach,”
