Last Breath by Mariah Stewart

she’d been poring over the inventory Alistair had written. “I suppose I might have kicked up a bit, opening the crates.”
    â€œSo, is it as wonderful as you thought it would be?” Vita’s eyes gleamed in the overhead light.
    â€œWhat? Yes. I suppose.” Daria stood and stretched. “I’ve only gotten through a few crates, but judging from what I’ve seen so far, it was a spectacular find.”
    â€œHow can you be so calm?” Vita frowned and peeked inside an open crate.
    â€œIf I let my emotions take over right now, I won’t be able to do my job.” Daria smiled and uncovered the platter. “Thanks a million for bringing this, by the way.”
    â€œDr. B. was afraid you’d get caught up in your work and forget to eat.”
    â€œDr. B. was right about that.”
    â€œSo is there anything you can show me?” Vita touched the paper wrappings in the crate hopefully.
    â€œSure.” Daria took a bite of sandwich, then got up and walked to the crate. She took out the object Vita had been poking. “This was a ceremonial goblet. See the figures here? The woman with the wings and the eagle talons for feet? This is Ereshkigal. She was the goddess around whom the culture in Shandihar was built. There were no minor goddesses, or—heaven forbid—gods. This was strictly a matriarchal society. Women ruled. And the most powerful women in Shandihar were the high priestesses of Ereshkigal.”
    â€œWhat’s that in her hand?” Vita took a closer look.
    â€œThat’s a human head,” Daria told her. “With its tongue cut out. See how the mouth is empty?”
    â€œOh, Good Lord! That’s just gross.” Vita backed away from it. “Why did they put that on the cup?”
    â€œEreshkigal ruled the afterworld. Her followers believed that when you died, you came before the gates that separated heaven from hell. In each hand, you brought an offering to the goddess. And you would stand at the gate and tell of all the good deeds you had performed while you were alive.” Daria set the goblet on the desk and picked up her sandwich and took another bite. “The punishment for any transgression was to cut off the hands of the offender. Because if he showed up at the gate without an offering, he would not be admitted. Likewise, if he failed to tell of his good deeds, he would not get past the gate. So people who broke the law, or displeased the goddess or her priestesses, were punished by having their hands cut off, or their tongue cut out. Or both, if they’d been really bad.”
    â€œNo thirty to sixty days plus probation?”
    Daria shook her head. “Not in Ereshkigal’s world.”
    â€œGuess the rate of recidivism was pretty low.”
    â€œGood point.”
    â€œOkay, then. Guess I’ll head on back to the office.” Vita paused in the doorway. “Doesn’t this place give you the creeps?”
    â€œNo, why?” Daria frowned.
    â€œNo reason, I guess,” Vita muttered as she left the room. She stuck her head back in and said, “Dr. B. said to let us know if you need anything.”
    â€œWill do. Thanks.”
    Daria rewrapped the goblet and placed it back in the crate, upon which she’d drawn a large number one. On the inventory sheets, she’d located each object she’d found in the crate, and marked it with a number one to designate where it could be found. She moved through crates two, three, and four, and by the end of the evening, her heart was beating so fast she was afraid it would beat out of her chest. Not because of what she’d found, but because of what she hadn’t found.
    She worked through most of the night, and into the morning. Louise had stopped by with a box holding some dinner, but Daria had not uncovered it. By ten the following morning, Daria was exhausted and shaking with dread. Telling herself she needed to open every crate before