She had very few other choices. As she followed the narrow stone walkway, the door behind them groaned closed, then its lock clicked as Kant resealed it.

So far, none of the other doors they had passed through had been locked. Margot had expected the passageway to lead them back outside, but apparently there was another stop on their trip, and this one warranted security.

The room’s light was a yellower hue than the harsh whites of the main cellar. It should have made the room warmer, but instead it set a sickly pall across the cracked stones. Margot reached the door and nudged it open.

The room held more barrels, but far fewer than the cathedral-like space they’d passed through. Only six existed there, suspended on a wooden structure that lifted them to chest height and locked them into place. They dominated the room’s left-hand side, while desks, filled with papers, wineglasses, and an aged lantern, took up the right.

A tawny-skinned, spectacled man stood at the desk. He smiled as he saw Margot. “Ah. Margot, I’m guessing. Andrew. Glad to meet you.”

“Andrew.” The name was familiar. Margot cast back as she shook the extended hand. “Ah—the accountant?”

“That’s him.” Kant had entered behind her and closed and locked the door.

“I needed to fetch some papers, so I thought I’d save some time and meet you down here.” Andrew, tall and lean and wearing a dark patterned vest, seemed wholly at home as he leaned a hip against one of the desks. “I’m sure your tour has been thrilling. Kant is such a talker, sometimes it’s a challenge to get him to be quiet.”

Kant grunted something inaudible. He moved around them, bumping Andrew’s shoulder as he passed in a way that told Margot they knew each other well.

“Sorry about the lighting situation.” Andrew nodded to the lantern at his side. “This was one of the earliest rooms to be built, and electricity hadn’t been invented back then apparently. Everywhere else got wires, but they were so fearful of upsetting the chamber’s balance that they never installed power here.”

The lantern’s flame flickered over the high walls in unsettling patterns.

Margot, colder than she would have liked, thrust her hands into her pockets to hide the way they shook. She felt edgy, itchy, eager to get back to ground level. “It gives it some charm.”

“The place has plenty of that.” Andrew, dressed only in his shirt and vest, seemed impervious to the chill. “Well, this is the chamber. That’s what it was named way back when the Hulls settled this hill, before they built a proper chamber back there.” He nodded to the passageway Margot had just come through.

“That’s just called the cellars,” Kant added.

Andrew’s eyes crinkled behind his glasses as he smiled. “We got less creative with our names over time.”