Coalition of Lions by Elizabeth Wein Page A

tunnel was built when the new family tomb was built, to connect them. Look, here is one of the older passages. The city is riddled with them.”
    She put a shielding hand over the flaming wick of her lamps as we passed a low opening in one of the walls.
    Our passage turned twice, and crossed five other ways, but generally it was straight. It sloped gently downward for perhaps three quarters of a mile to a wooden door. Past this, Turunesh led us up another stair and through a hall whose arched ceiling was laid with brick. We came at last to a wide chamber where the floor was a ledge of stone slabs surrounding a flight of steps leading into darkness below. Halfway up the wall across the pit was another door, this one cut into solid granite and set between stone lintels.
    “It’s false,” said Turunesh. “Even the hasp, carved into the stone. It’s the door to the spirit world. This court used to be open to the sky; my grandparents sealed it not long after my father was born. The stairway to the left leads you out. We will put the lamp out now, because the chamber below this level is built so that it draws in winds that suddenly quench a burning flame.”
    She raised the lamp to her lips to blow it out.
    Telemakos cried out softly, “Oh, Mother, bring the light down so we can watch the wind put it out!”
    “You mad creature,” she laughed. “All right. I’ll hold the light; you and the princess go down first.”
    It was dim even with the light above us. Telemakos and I crept down the stairs, brushing the wall with our fingertips. We stood at the bottom and watched Turunesh make her careful descent; you could feel the sudden winds—light, gently rippling over the back of your neck. Turunesh’s lamp winked out without warning.
    “You can be sure my cousins and I nearly died of fright when first this tunnel blew our lights out,” came her calm voice out of the dark.
    Telemakos laughed.
    “Hold the lamp and I’ll hold your hand, child. Princess, take my other hand.”
    Her hands were steady. We walked forward in the darkness.
    The true entrance to the tomb of the false door was sealed with an iron lock. Telemakos leaned against my waist while Turunesh unfastened the lock and opened the stone door. A smell of herbs and damp earth hit us. It was not a foul smell, but a strange smell to find in the still air of the stone underground.
    “No one will come here,” Turunesh said. “The vaults are locked against robbers, and the cemetery is patrolled above-ground. I will have to bribe the warden, I think, before I will get in to you from the other side.”
    “Do you mean for us to shut ourselves in the vault?” I said, as lightly as I could.
    “Stay in the corridor unless you need to hide. I can’t believe anyone will come down here, but all the wealthy villas have access to these tunnels, and I don’t know who else. The door to the vault will not open from the inside, though, so do not shut yourself in unless you are very frightened. Will you be all right without a light? You will have no means to keep one aflame in this corridor.”
    I sensed her moving close to me and felt her brush against my skirt as she took her son in her arms. She whispered something at his ear, and he laughed again.
    Turunesh stood, and reached for my hand one last time. “Princess, all will be well. Our household will soon discover you missing, but Ferem knows you are with me and will keep them hushed. I packed the boy’s nurse off to visit her mother. There is no one else who could guess.”
    “Wazeb,” I said. “He brought the map.”
    “I think the tame lion is something more than message bearer in this intrigue,” Turunesh said carefully. “I think he would sooner cast dust on your trail than send dogs after you. He has reason to hope you succeed in your quest. He awaits the advent of his own kingship. He knows what he is doing.”
    Turunesh squeezed my hand a final time.
    “‘Love is strong as death,’” she said.