Unhallowed (Rath and Rune #1) - Jordan L. Hawk Page 0,5

hadn’t stood in the street, helpless against the overwhelming heat and smoke, while their mother died in agony before her very eyes.

Sebastian had.

Clara began to cry, her little fists waving. Bonnie reached for the buttons on her dress. “Will you put Tommy to bed, while I feed the little one?”

“Of course.” Sebastian lifted Tommy from the floor with a grunt. “You’re getting heavy.”

Tommy tucked his head into Sebastian’s shoulder as Sebastian carried him to the front set of stairs. He shared a room with his brother, eleven-year-old Willie, who was already asleep after a long day of school and chores.

As Sebastian laid him down beside Willie, Tommy yawned. He curled into his bigger brother, thumb slipping into his mouth as he did so. For a moment, Sebastian looked down at them, illuminated in the light from the hall. They were so innocent. So untouched by the horrors of the world. If anything happened to them…

Even the thought made his heart ache. He would die before he let them get hurt.

Sebastian slipped out and shut the door, before going back downstairs to double-check that all the doors were locked. Satisfied, he retreated to his room. The chamber had originally been servants quarters, long before Bonnie and her children moved in, and sat directly above the kitchen. Come full summer, the heat would be ferocious. For now, it was pleasant, the night breeze stirring the curtains and bringing with it the fishy scent of the ocean.

Boxes of dissected pictures, along with the newer jigsaw puzzles, sat in one corner. He’d assembled most of them more than once, but found himself reluctant to let them go, even as he added to the pile with every visit to the shops. Of more interest was a new puzzle box he’d acquired from the toymaker’s store. One-of-a-kind and made with exacting precision, it hadn’t been cheap. But Sebastian had few expenses outside of the rent he paid to Bonnie and the drinks he got with his friends. Similar boxes clustered on his shelves, alongside wooden purses that could only be opened by knowing a certain trick, and even a book whose wooden leaves each contained their own puzzle to unlock the next.

He sank down on the edge of the bed. He knew he ought to go down and find something to eat for dinner, but couldn’t summon the energy to do so. The sudden burst of fear he’d experienced seemed to have drained him completely.

Bonnie meant well. But she didn’t live with his nightmares. Or his guilt.

He should have risked it. Despite the wall of furnace-like heat, the flames wreathing the door…he should have pushed through anyway. Saved their mother, or died in the attempt.

Sebastian stared up at his ceiling for a long time, trying not to think.

Chapter 3

Ves stared up the flight of marble steps leading to the Nathaniel R. Ladysmith Museum, a ball of nerves knotted in his belly. It was mid-morning on a Wednesday, and only a few people went in and out of its great doors: a small herd of schoolchildren, shepherded by a harried teacher; two scholarly looking men arguing over some point of science; a young woman with intent eyes.

A newsstand nearby did a brisker business in papers and magazines. The Widdershins Enquirer Journal was prominently displayed, the name of the museum itself in the headlines. Famed Lady Archaeologist Sails for Egypt on Behalf of Ladysmith was emblazoned just beneath the header in huge type. Below, a photo showed a woman standing on the docks, two children in front of her and flanked by a pair of smiling men. A tall man in the back seemed to be attempting to hide from the photographer.

Ves had a vague recollection that a female archaeologist had been the one to excavate Nephren-ka’s tomb some years ago. Not that his family had allowed newspapers to enter the house—the brothers were meant to concentrate on their studies, not be distracted by the outside world. But the news had reached his mother somehow. She had screamed and thrown things, wild in her fury that the ancient pharaoh had been brought to America, his many sorcerous secrets fallen into other hands. And as usual, her rage had eventually turned to the two targets nearest at hand: her sons.

When her fury abated, they slipped away into the deep woods. Beneath the ancient trees, he and his brother listened to the whispers only they could hear. A low murmur of comfort and belonging that seemed to drift down from