“Hold steady,” he ordered Max, then played out the rope. He went over the edge with more speed than caution, the rope burning his wounded hands and the cliff striking out to punish him.

His ankles sang when he landed, and his breath came fast. But he had her again, hard against him. Safe.

“You promised not to move.”

“Seraphina. In the cave. I can’t get it by myself. It’s too heavy. I need Margo and Kate.”

“In a minute. Let’s get this on you.” Working fast, he looped the rope around her. “You’re not going to have to do anything but hold on to me. Max and I will get you up.”

“All right.” She didn’t question it. It was all so simple, after all. “Could you get it out for me? Just out here in the light. It’s been in the dark so long.”

“Sure. Now I’m going to lift you up. You look at me, nothing but me.”

“I will—but the chest.”

“What chest?”

“In the cave.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll—” But he glanced over at the gesture of her hand. And saw the dull gleam of brass against wood, the shadow of shape. “Jesus Christ!”

“Seraphina’s dowry. Would you pull it out into the light?”

It was small, no more than two feet long, a domed box of cedar fitted with brass hinges. And no more than twenty pounds, he judged as he hefted it out. A simple box, un-carved, yet he could have sworn he felt something as his hands closed over it. Heat where there should have been none, a faint vibration that tickled his fingertips. It lasted only a moment, no more than two heartbeats, then it was just a small chest fashioned out of smooth wood and brass.

“All of her dreams locked away,” Laura said softly. “All locked away because the one she wanted most was over.”

“The quake shifted the rocks.” Frowning, Michael studied the cave, cut so neatly in the wall. “I’d say another one some time ago covered it up.”

“She wanted us to find it. She’s been leading us here all our lives.”

“Now you have it.” However intriguing the find, he had priorities. “I want you to put your arms around my neck and hold on. Can you do that? How’s the shoulder?”

“It’s sore, but I can manage. How are we going to—”

“Let me worry about it.” He helped her to her feet, kept himself between her and the edge. “Just keep looking at me,” he continued, pulling her arms up until they linked around him. It’s a good strong rope. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Did you climb up the cliff? I thought I saw you climbing up.”