the Council families. Those crypts – she shuddered – were marble and filled with blank-eyed statues. Those ones had no coffin drawers; each member had their own plot buried beneath the floor of the greeting chamber, marked by a different pattern in the marble mosaic.
She stared at Charlonge with widening eyes. ‘You’re so clever!’
‘Wh-what?’
Naif pointed down and scuffed the smooth floor with her foot. ‘The entry is underneath us.’
‘Oh, no,’ moaned Charlonge, softly. ‘Please, no.’
But Naif dropped down on her hands, feeling for the gap, or the hook or the catch. She found it close to the wall in a well-worn groove that was hidden under the rock overhang. She tugged it upward but nothing moved, and the jagged edge grazed her fingers.
‘It won’t open. I think we should go back,’ whispered Charlonge.
But Naif wouldn’t give up. She pushed the groove horizontally this time, and a narrow rectangle of floor in front of where she knelt slid open. Markes’ music flooded up the stairs.
‘Quick, Char.’
But Charlonge stayed still, her back pressed against the wall.
Naif handed her back the torch. ‘Stay here and make sure the door stays open. I don’t want to be trapped down there.’
She slid her legs over the lip of the opening and eased down onto rough-cut spiral stairs. Descending slowly, she stopped to listen for voices every few steps. The last stair brought her face to face with two thick stone columns. In the gap between them she could see through to a large chamber.
Naif crept to the columns and peered through.
All of the Ripers were in there – not seated at a table as she expected, but standing in a circle. Lenoir had his back to her with Test on one side of him and Graselle – the only human among them – on the other. Lenoir faced Brand across the circle. Modai stood next to Brand, with Forlorn on the other side.
Further along the wall she saw Markes crouched, clutching his guitar like a shield. Leather cuffs on his ankles were attached to an iron loop and bolted to the floor. Blood streaked his face, and his lips looked puffy and swollen, as if he’d been hit.
The chamber reeked of rage; an acrid, throat-catching taste that billowed around the circle of Ripers like invisible smoke. Naif wanted to wave her arms to clear the air – make it more breathable – but she stayed still, scared to move any further.
Brand stepped into the middle of the circle. ‘There’s something that should be said before the vote.’
‘What is it, Brand? Simply and without decoration, if you please,’ said Varonessa. She stood midway between Brand and Lenoir, clearly the arbiter.
‘Leyste is dead. Murdered by one of our own.’
The circle of Ripers appeared to writhe like eels caught in a net. But it was Modai who truly frightened Naif. He fell to his knees, clasping his chest as if he’d been stabbed, moaning in a deep and haunted way.
Brand stepped back, her expression showing she was satisfied with the impact of her words.
‘Do you claim to know the murderer?’ asked Varonessa.
Naif held her breath. What would happen when Lenoir was named?
She became overwhelmed by an urgent need to get out. But the desire wasn’t hers; it was Lenoir’s. He’d sensed her presence without seeing her and sent her a warning. Flee.
She fought against the compulsion and pressed closer to the column. Markes saw her and his face betrayed a mixture of terror and pleading.
Conflicting instincts paralysed her. What would happen to Markes if she left? What would happen to them both if she stayed?
‘I killed him, Varonessa,’ said Lenoir into the tense quiet.
The Ripers erupted in a clamour of questions and accusations.
‘SILENCE!’ Varonessa did not raise her voice yet it cut straight through the noise.
Naif felt another surge of power – like bands tightening across her limbs. Someone had taken control of the room, keeping it in order. Either Varonessa or Lenoir.
‘Lenoir, explain yourself,’ ordered Varonessa.
Lenoir did not move from where he stood. ‘Leyste stalked one of the new ones. He saw her arrive at the Register and has been watching her ever since. He tampered with the light relays on a path near Agios and then attacked her.’
‘Tampered with the light relays?’ Varonessa sounded shocked.
Murmurs rippled around the circle again.
‘That is not possible, Lenoir,’ said Varonessa.
‘Not for one of them,’ agreed Lenoir. ‘But it is for one of us. One of us assisted Leyste. We cannot let this happen. It’s not in our agreement.’
The tension in