him, reluctant to be too far from him in the gloomy basement. It was long and wide and had a dirt floor. “I think this was used as the smugglers’ storehouse. There’s a stairway leading to the cove through a narrow tunnel. Part of the tunnel collapsed some years ago, but I read in my grandmother’s diary that the mill was used to store supplies and weapons and spices coming in off the boats.” She pressed her lips together, determined not to distract him as he studied the walls and the floor of the basement.
“What’s this?” Matt halted next to a strange covering in the dirt. It was at least two inches thick and looked almost like the lid of a coffin, except it was oval in shape. The surface was rough and covered with symbols, which were impossible to read with the dirt and grime over them. Running straight through the middle of the lid was a large crack.
Kate frowned. “I didn’t notice it before. It must have been covered by the dirt. Could the earthquake have shifted that much dirt?” She moved closer to it reluctantly. The icy cold air was coming from the deep crack. “I don’t like this, Matthew.”
“It isn’t a grave, Kate,” he pointed out, crouching beside it and brushing at the dirt along the edges. “It’s more like a seal of some kind.”
She hunkered down beside him. A blast of cold air touched her palm as she passed it above the crumbling rock. She brushed the dirt away from the symbols, trying to decipher the old hieroglyphics. The language was an ancient one, but it was all too familiar to her. Her ancestors, generations of powerful witches, had used such symbols to communicate privately. Her mother had urged them to learn the language, and Kate knew a few of the symbols, but not all. “It says something about rage. The symbols are chipped and worn away. I can make out the words, ‘sealed until the day one is born’—” She broke off in frustration, leaning closer to try to figure out the meaning of the words.
“Where did you learn those symbols? Are they Egyptian?” Matt asked.
Kate shook her head. “No, it’s a family thing. We were all supposed to have learned. Do you think this is a well of some kind?”
Matt continued to dig around the edges of the thick lid. “It can’t be a well, Kate. Maybe some kind of memorial?” He pushed at the heavy slab. It crumbled around the edges but slid slightly.
“No!” Kate caught Matt’s arm, tugging hard. “We don’t know what’s inside. Something about this doesn’t feel right to me. Can’t you feel the malevolence pouring out of the crack?” She stumbled back, taking him with her, nearly sprawling on the ground so that he had to catch her as a noxious gas poured from the slit that had opened.
“It’s just gas created from decomposed matter that’s been trapped for a long time,” Matt said, dragging her as far from the crevice as he could get them. He pushed her toward the stairs. “Sometimes the gases can make you sick or worse, Kate. Don’t breathe it in.” She looked pale, her eyes wide with horror. She stared at the lid without moving, one hand pressed to her mouth. Matt could see that her entire body was trembling.
At once he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close to him. He practically enveloped her entire body, yet she never looked away from the oddity in the basement, mesmerized by the yellow-black vapor streaming from the crack. “It’s nothing Kate, just a hole in the ground. It’s probably a couple of hundred years old.” He remained calm in order to reassure her, but all of his senses had gone on alert.
Matthew obviously couldn’t feel the malicious triumph pouring out of the ground, a welling-up of victory, a coup of sorts. She couldn’t identify it, had no idea what it was, but she was terrified they might have unleashed something dangerous. Horrified, she watched the dark, ugly vapor swirl around the room, then stream up the stairs toward freedom, leaving behind an icy cold that
“What’s this?” Matt halted next to a strange covering in the dirt. It was at least two inches thick and looked almost like the lid of a coffin, except it was oval in shape. The surface was rough and covered with symbols, which were impossible to read with the dirt and grime over them. Running straight through the middle of the lid was a large crack.
Kate frowned. “I didn’t notice it before. It must have been covered by the dirt. Could the earthquake have shifted that much dirt?” She moved closer to it reluctantly. The icy cold air was coming from the deep crack. “I don’t like this, Matthew.”
“It isn’t a grave, Kate,” he pointed out, crouching beside it and brushing at the dirt along the edges. “It’s more like a seal of some kind.”
She hunkered down beside him. A blast of cold air touched her palm as she passed it above the crumbling rock. She brushed the dirt away from the symbols, trying to decipher the old hieroglyphics. The language was an ancient one, but it was all too familiar to her. Her ancestors, generations of powerful witches, had used such symbols to communicate privately. Her mother had urged them to learn the language, and Kate knew a few of the symbols, but not all. “It says something about rage. The symbols are chipped and worn away. I can make out the words, ‘sealed until the day one is born’—” She broke off in frustration, leaning closer to try to figure out the meaning of the words.
“Where did you learn those symbols? Are they Egyptian?” Matt asked.
Kate shook her head. “No, it’s a family thing. We were all supposed to have learned. Do you think this is a well of some kind?”
Matt continued to dig around the edges of the thick lid. “It can’t be a well, Kate. Maybe some kind of memorial?” He pushed at the heavy slab. It crumbled around the edges but slid slightly.
“No!” Kate caught Matt’s arm, tugging hard. “We don’t know what’s inside. Something about this doesn’t feel right to me. Can’t you feel the malevolence pouring out of the crack?” She stumbled back, taking him with her, nearly sprawling on the ground so that he had to catch her as a noxious gas poured from the slit that had opened.
“It’s just gas created from decomposed matter that’s been trapped for a long time,” Matt said, dragging her as far from the crevice as he could get them. He pushed her toward the stairs. “Sometimes the gases can make you sick or worse, Kate. Don’t breathe it in.” She looked pale, her eyes wide with horror. She stared at the lid without moving, one hand pressed to her mouth. Matt could see that her entire body was trembling.
At once he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close to him. He practically enveloped her entire body, yet she never looked away from the oddity in the basement, mesmerized by the yellow-black vapor streaming from the crack. “It’s nothing Kate, just a hole in the ground. It’s probably a couple of hundred years old.” He remained calm in order to reassure her, but all of his senses had gone on alert.
Matthew obviously couldn’t feel the malicious triumph pouring out of the ground, a welling-up of victory, a coup of sorts. She couldn’t identify it, had no idea what it was, but she was terrified they might have unleashed something dangerous. Horrified, she watched the dark, ugly vapor swirl around the room, then stream up the stairs toward freedom, leaving behind an icy cold that
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