off gleamed slick with moisture. There would be no climbing back up that way if she fell in.
When she was settled, he did something to the oars, and started to pull the boat out across the water. She could feel the faint burn of exertion in his shoulders and she could feel him enjoying it. If he did this on a regular basis, she should have felt it before; but she was so achy in her own right from lugging water and fodder for the sheep that she probably wouldn’t have noticed. They spent so little time together now. They hadn’t had one of their clandestine card games in—she had to think—nearly a week. She realized that she missed him. “Where are we going?” she said.
“Not far. You should be more impressed. This is a state secret, you know.”
“Then how do you know about it?”
“Elban’s journal.”
“He wrote state secrets in his journal?”
“A few. Mostly they’re about people he killed.” She still couldn’t see his face. Over his shoulder, the wan circle of light suddenly illuminated a damp stone wall and there was a soft thud as the boat knocked against something. Gavin shipped the oars and threw the rope over something Judah couldn’t see. “Here, watch.”
Carefully, she leaned over the side until she saw it: a small wooden platform, floating low in the water. A short length of chain tethered it to the wall, and a dozen ropes, thick and glistening with oil, snaked down from it into the water. Gavin chose one and began to haul, making the boat rock uncomfortably. The rope was dark and wet where it had been submerged and as Gavin pulled it out of the water it lay coiled in the bottom of the boat like a serpent. When the ghost of something appeared at the end of it, floating up from the depths, it wavered in a way that seemed almost alive. Judah shivered.
The something was only a wooden box. It was bound with a rusty iron bolt, but not locked. Gavin opened it and Judah was surprised to see that the straw inside was dry, or at least dryish. He set a handful of it aside, revealing nine small circular objects, poking out of the straw like seedlings: corked wine bottles. Gavin pulled one out. It was sealed with red wax; the metal chain around its neck was corroded but the stone tag that hung from it, carved with an elaborate S, was still legible.
“Elban’s best Sevedran,” Gavin said. “Apparently there’s something about aging it in water. The only person who knew it was here was Elban’s favorite guard, and he’s one of the ones who died in the coup.”
“The Seneschal doesn’t know?” Judah had a hard time conceiving of anything happening in the House without the Seneschal’s knowledge.
“Seneschal’s an ascetic. No wine, no women, no song. Anyway, I’m sure he knew at one point, but he seems to have forgotten. By the time he remembers, I plan to have drunk it all.” He took a second bottle out and handed them both to her; then he tossed the straw back into the box, closed it, and let it back down into the water. “I’ll show you my new favorite drinking spot. It’s hilarious.”
After they dragged the boat out of the water, he led her through the catacombs to the crypts. Each tomb was marked by a bust of its occupant. The first tombs were very old ones, before Gavin’s family had taken power. The busts were utterly unfamiliar, the clothes and hairstyles quaint. It wasn’t until the third corner that Judah began to see familiar features: Gavin’s jaw, Elban’s cheekbones, that particular mouth they all shared. Carved stone eyes, blank and dead. They passed Mad Martin the Lockmaker; Gavin’s grandfather; a few younger men that were probably second sons, the ones who didn’t live. Eventually they came to Clorin, whose stone visage was beautiful and sad. Beyond her, the ledges were empty. Elban’s corpse had been burned, eventually, the ashes tossed in the midden yard like countless staff before him.
Gavin pulled himself up to sit on one of the empty ledges and began rummaging through his pockets. Judah looked at the place he’d chosen, and back at Clorin’s tomb, and did a quick calculation. The ledge he sat on was his own. “That’s morbid,” she said.
“But funny.” He nodded at the other end of the ledge, which was wide enough to accommodate a stone sarcophagus and would be plenty comfortable for