Owen sighed and slumped against the side of the vault. For the first time, I noticed the sweat and soot on his face, the tired slant of his mouth, the slight sag of his shoulders. Sparks from the torches had landed on his tuxedo, leaving holes in his jacket, shirt, and pants, and his black hair was plastered to his forehead. Still, I thought he’d never looked more handsome or appealing.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He nodded and straightened up. “Yeah, just tired. Using my magic on the door was hard—one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.” He jerked his head at the opening. “But it worked just like Clementine said it would.”

“Well, then,” I said. “Let’s finish the job for her and see what’s inside.”

* * *

The inside of the vault resembled something you’d see in a bank rather than a museum. A series of metal boxes lined one of the walls, while sturdy metal shelves took up two others. Three long tables cut through the center of the area, although their surfaces were clean and empty, I supposed so that the museum staff could open the metal boxes and sort through their contents there.

“Well, I certainly don’t see any piles of gold,” I said. “Do you?”

Owen shook his head.

Oh, there were valuables in the vault, and not just the expected paintings and sculptures. A pale jade elephant adorned with gold and emeralds peeped out from one of the shelves, right next to a small onyx statue of a mythological Nemean prowler, its ruby eyes flashing with some evil inner fire. A small antique violin gleamed inside an open case, while a diamond choker perched on a blue velvet stand, the gemstones proudly singing about their own exquisite clarity. The cluster of stones in the middle and the long, swooping lines of the necklace almost made it look like a spider spinning a web of diamonds.

It looked like Mab wasn’t the only power player in Ashland who had stashed her shinies at Briartop. But there was no hoard of gold and nothing that looked like it was remotely worth the risk Clementine and her giants had taken in breaking in here, versus the art they had already swiped from the rest of the museum.

“If it wasn’t gold, then what is Clementine really after?” Owen asked, voicing my thoughts.

I shook my head. “I don’t know, but start looking. Whatever it is, we need to find it and get out of here before Clementine and her men come back.”