“In that context, Westerham Heights is still the highest point of land.” Lucy beamed with pride, clearly pleased to have added value to the discussion. “I’m writing my thesis on the function of space and rituals in ancient Britannia, you see. Much importance was placed on the right location. Proximity to the heavens was often a crucial factor.”
“You must be highly sought-after on trivia night,” I said.
Her smile intensified. “My team are reigning champions.”
Dashiell sniffed. “Thank you for that informative detour, Lucy.”
Oomph. An academic smackdown.
He turned back to me. “What remained of St. Paul’s was mostly taken to be used for other buildings at the time of its destruction, leaving this an empty lot,” Dashiell continued. “It still took us years to get approval for the excavation though.”
“If most of the building materials were taken years ago, what are you looking for now?” I asked.
“According to research, the church held valuable possessions that were never recovered after its destruction. There’s a chance they were inadvertently taken along with the building materials, but there’s no evidence of the items appearing elsewhere.”
That made sense. Valuable artifacts eventually surfaced one way or another.
“Which means there’s a good chance they’re still buried here,” Lucy added.
“Have you found anything yet?” I didn’t have experience with excavation sites. All I saw was an area that looked dirtier than my flat and that was saying something.
“Not yet. It’s tedious work, as you can imagine.” Dashiell raised his chisel. “Allow me to show you.”
From his vantage point, Barnaby must’ve taken the gesture as a threat because the raven swooped down and knocked the chisel from his hand.
“Stand down, Barnaby,” I commanded. “We’re having a demonstration. That’s all.”
Instead of showing fear, Dashiell appeared enamored. He gazed at the bird with an affectionate smile. “A raven protector. How marvelous.”
“He’s sometimes overzealous.” I glared at Barnaby before turning back to the trio. “I take it Maria didn’t show anyone the stone she found?”
They shook their heads.
“Is that unusual?” I continued.
“Very,” Dashiell said. “We share all our research and findings. We’re partners on this project.” He bowed his head. “At least we were.”
“Can you think of any reason she wouldn’t have shown you the stone?”
“No and, not only that, I can’t fathom why she’d leave the site with the stone without cataloging it. We have a system.” Dashiell wiped his brow, his angst seeming to work up a sweat.
“Would it surprise you to learn she agreed to sell the stone?” I asked.
He recoiled. Lucy appeared equally shocked and dismayed.
“You must be mistaken. Maria would never do such a thing. She was highly respected in the field.”
Lucy chewed her lip. “There was that issue with the budget. Perhaps she was trying to solve the problem?”
Dashiell puffed his disapproval. “Not by selling an artifact like it was a common household object.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” I interjected, “but I don’t think the sale of a common household object would solve your budget problems.” The stone was valuable and Maria recognized its worth. Unfortunately so did her killer.
“No, it certainly would not,” Dashiell said in a quiet voice.
I knew he was still processing my revelation, poor guy. It’s always hard to learn the truth about people you think you know. Your mind doesn’t want to accept it.
“Can you walk me through the last time you saw her?” I asked. “Were you here?”
He nodded absently. “She left early, which I did think was odd at the time, but I was too preoccupied to fully register it.”
“Did she say why?”
“She told me she had an appointment with a healer,” Lucy said.
Dashiell whipped around to face her. “A healer? Why not ask me?”
I hadn’t realized Dashiell was a druid. That made sense. Druids got the short end of the stick in the modern world, which was why he was covered in dirt in the middle of a pile of rubble. Once the mediators between the gods and everyone else, druids were historically flush with magic. As a connection to the gods became less important, the druids lost their place in the hierarchy and shifted their expertise to healing spells and potions. Then vampires outlawed magic except in certain circumstances and the practice was lost to many of them. Most druids moved into academia or medicine rather than seek employment in a magic-based field like defense or agriculture. Even healers were limited in the type of magic they could use. Like humans, most resorted to scientific means because they didn’t want to risk a violation of the law. Vampires weren’t kind to lawbreakers.
Two pink spots formed on Lucy’s cheeks and she lowered her voice. “She said she was having lady problems.”
Clever Maria. Tell them you need to seek medical attention for lady problems and no one will ask follow-up questions.
Dashiell tugged the goggles from his head and dropped his arm to his side. “I see.”
“Are you a licensed healer?” I asked.
Dashiell offered a halfhearted sniff. “No. I stopped my training to move into archaeology at Kings, specializing in the excavation of religious sites, of which there are many in the region. I’ve retained a few useful skills, of course. Someone’s always getting cut or scraped on an excavation site and we’re not always within range of a decent healer.”
A gust of wind blew past us, stirring dirt in the air. Instinctively I closed my eyes.
“Give us what we want and no one dies,” a deep voice threatened.
I spun around to see six cloaked figures on the edge of the site. Wizards. My fingers itched for the axe strapped to my back, but I didn’t want to make any sudden moves unless I absolutely had to. Not with two innocent bystanders directly next to me.
“Get behind me,” I barked.
“There’s no need to fight,” the head honcho said. Even in the gloaming, I could see the bright green of his cloak. Mr. Tall and Threatening wanted to shine.
I stepped forward. “That depends on how reasonable you are. What exactly do you want?”
“The stone,” he said.