As the light from the torch glided away from the door, the others were cast into darkness, and Raven felt its biting chill. “There must be another entrance,” Raven said desperately, her eyes following Christian as he drew his hand along the wall, searching for a door. “It might be hidden. But it has to be here.”
“Whose treasure is it?” Willow wondered, running a finger along the boxes.
Christian slowly crept forward, his torchlight sweeping over countless crates and boxes stacked with precision.
“Look!” Willow called, her voice filled with a sense of awe. She had paused in front of a black box atop a wooden crate.
Christian retraced his steps to her side, holding the torch aloft.
“It’s a hawk,” she said, her voice rising in wonder.
Raven scowled at them, anxiety twisting inside her. “Keep going,” she urged.
“It has a lock,” Christian observed.
“Will Raven’s key fit?” Sage asked.
As realization dawned inside her, Raven’s hand closed over the key at her throat. A hawk on the cover of the box? Locked? Curiosity sparked inside her, yet she knew they had to escape.
“We can’t see to get to you,” Sage said. “Come back with the torch.”
“Stay here,” Christian told Willow and backtracked along the stone wall, skirting crates.
Raven waited anxiously until Christian’s torch lit the way from the door around the crates to the wall. The others surged forward, following him.
Raven glanced back at the metal door they had entered through, watching as it was consumed in the darkness. She licked her lips, having a strange feeling they would never see it again as she trailed the others around the boxes.
Sage reached the black box first and quickly studied it. “It might fit,” Sage said excitedly.
The unease that had overtaken Raven began to mix with excitement as she stared at the box. It was decorated with the image of a hawk in mid-flight, its wings spread wide and talons reaching out. Was the box meant for them? Was this what her father had wanted them to have? She felt a tingle of anxiety prickle up her spine as she pulled the cord from around her head.
She took a deep breath, preparing to insert the key, when a soft, yellowish glow on the wall captured her gaze. She whirled around, and the others followed.
Behind them, the flickering light of a lone torch illuminated the shadowy figure of a guard standing amidst the scattered crates, his sword drawn and poised for attack. At that moment, a cascade of lights erupted, revealing an army of men—some who held torches, all who clutched swords—ready to defend the treasure. The vast room was lit by torchlight as if it were day.
Shock rocked Raven, but she was a fighter, as were her sisters. Instinctively, they drew their weapons to face the overwhelming odds. The hissing of metal reverberated through the room.
“Wait!” Christian called, holding his hands out while clutching the torch and shifted before the others. “We mean no harm.”
The guards advanced slowly, their boots crunching against the pebbles.
“How did you get in here?” one guard with a black beard asked.
Raven’s eyes swept the enormous room. The guards were dispersed throughout the hundreds of crates, barrels, and boxes around them. She swallowed hard.
“How did you get inside?” another man demanded.
Christian hesitated. “It was a mistake. We found it by accident.”
“They are spies for Philip,” one man proclaimed, and the guards moved toward them.
“No!” Landyn shouted, sheathing his sword. “Christian is right. We didn’t know this is what we would discover.” He shook his head slightly at the women and Marcus, indicating they should follow his lead and put their swords away.
Raven paused for only a moment before doing so. Willow sheathed her weapon next, and then Sage and Marcus until they were all defenseless.
“We’re not here for this,” Christian continued, still holding his hand up. “We were following directions the Grand Master gave us.”
The guards exchanged confused looks until the leader, a man with a thick mustache like a black brush, stepped forward and pointed his sword at Marcus. “You’re a de Nogaret.”
