tunnel coming to a dead end. He examined a gap in the wall between the rows of skulls. “More math problems.”
Yanko scooted forward, trying to get a glimpse of carvings in the stone. Not that he would be much help with Kyattese math problems, unless Dak translated the numbers and symbols for him. But Dak did not ask for help. He gazed thoughtfully at equations carved into the stone, then pressed something on the wall.
A grinding sound came, and a portion of the wall shifted inward. Yanko followed, glad for Dak’s help, but wishing the traps and obstacles were magical and that he could be the one to thwart them. He never would have found the first island—or this one—without Dak’s help, and the thought of taking the artifact when he had done so little to locate it made him uncomfortable. Pey Lu might not be bothered by the idea of laying an ambush to take it from whoever found it, but it did bother Yanko.
Dak paused again, eyeing a skull that leaned farther out of the wall than the others. An old stone knife stuck out of its cracked and yellowed cranium.
Just decor designed to scare trespassers, Yanko told himself. That did not keep him from muttering the Song of Courage under his breath.
Dak looked back at him. “Are you humming or calling up some magic?”
“I’m calling up courage. In my off-key way.”
Dak held his gaze for a long minute, his eye narrowed again. Maybe he believed they were close to the artifact and that Yanko was planning some treachery. All Yanko could do was shrug at him, since he was thinking of treachery, or at least about how he could claim the lodestone for himself. He just hadn’t figured out how to do it yet. If his mother, with all her power, hadn’t managed to crush Dak with her mind, Yanko would not be able to thwart him, either. He might drop the ceiling, but the idea of thanking Dak for all of his help by burying him under a rockfall made Yanko sick.
“Look,” he said, since Dak hadn’t moved, and since the rows of sightless eyes staring at them were making him uncomfortable, “let’s make a deal. We’ll get the lodestone, assuming it’s actually in here, get down to the beach without killing ourselves or each other on the climb, and then... then we can fight over it. Or make a deal. Whatever makes sense, given that pirates and mage hunters may be down there waiting to kill us.” Granted, the mage hunter probably only had orders to kill him, but the pirates ought to be more likely to go after Dak.
Dak stared at him for a thoughtful moment, then stuck out his hand. Yanko clasped his wrist.
“I agree with your terms,” Dak said, squeezing his arm briefly, then releasing him and turning back to an old door set between the walls of skulls.
“Just to be fair and offer a warning, I don’t need to sing to call up my magic,” Yanko said.
“I thought not, but I wasn’t sure that was singing. Can’t all Nurians hold a tune? I thought that was required.”
“It’s only required if you’re going to become a holy mage and communicate with the gods on people’s behalf. The rest of the time, singing off-key just gets you mocked.”
Dak traced a few more symbols, these carved into the door. This time, they appeared to be the Kyattese language rather than part of a math problem, though perhaps an older version of the language than Yanko had seen before. Had it changed in the seventy years since the Mausoleum Bandit had lived? Or had he deliberately chosen some historic version to use?
Dak sighed. “I can only read half of this. Math would have been better.”
Not sure how to help, Yanko did another check for magical traps. Once again, he found nothing. He started to lean against the wall, but realized he was leaning against skulls, and jerked away.
“He had Tikaya,” Dak grumbled under his breath.
“Pardon?”
“Just... trying to find something that a relative couldn’t.”
“Because it’s a matter of honor?”
“Because it’s a matter of wanting to be someone for once. Stand back. I think the door is warning us not to open it.”
Yanko scooted back. “So you’re going to?”
“The artifact is on the other side, right?”
“Yes, very close now.” Yanko could almost feel it humming with energy from a hollowed out chamber behind the door.
“Do you sense any magical traps?”
“None.”
Dak gave him another long, appraising look.
Yanko wanted