Orial broke off, surprised. She was unaware she was singing aloud.

‘I don’t know. Some dance-tune from the gardens, most like. I don’t remember where I first heard it. Do you recognise it?’

‘No. I can’t say I do.’

Orial’s fingernail clicked against something hard. She moved the lantern closer.

‘Look. Look at this, Jolaine. I’ve found something.’

A glimmer of white had appeared in the caked dirt.

Jolaine swore under her breath and, kneeling down beside Orial, took two brushes from her pocket, giving one to Orial. With careful strokes, they set about brushing the earth away.

‘What is it?’ Orial whispered.

‘Look. Oh, look,’ crooned Jolaine. ‘Isn’t it beautiful? Have you ever seen anything so perfect?’

Slowly, their careful brushwork revealed a fragment of an enamelled lotos flower: ivory-white set on green and gold. Producing a palette knife, Jolaine slipped it beneath the fragment and gently began to lever.

‘It’s coming, it’s coming –’

‘Be careful,’ begged Orial.

‘Seems to be set in some kind of stone plinth.’ Jolaine wiped her sweating brow.

‘Perhaps we shouldn’t remove it.’

‘I’m only going to examine it, clean it, record it. I’ll put it back.’

There was an acquisitive glint in Jolaine’s eyes; she was not to be diverted from her purpose. ‘In a few days or so…’

Orial sat back on her heels and watched the Antiquarian work.

‘That’s it… out you come, my beauty, out you come…’

Jolaine lifted the enamel out from the encrusted dirt that had held it in place over the centuries and cupped it in her palms.

‘But where’s the other half?’ Orial asked.

Jolaine began to dig again – but only uncovered an indentation in the stone where the other half-lotos had been.

‘Damme if it isn’t gone!’ she said, exasperated. ‘Someone’s been here before us. Still, one half is better than none and this is the finest piece of Lifhendil enamel work I have ever seen. How did you know it was here?’

‘I didn’t,’ Orial said. ‘I just… had an intuition.’

‘There may be other treasures concealed beneath this dirt floor.’ Jolaine spread her hands, encompassing the whole chamber. ‘I have a theory that this chamber is of far greater significance than anyone has ever imagined. The inscriptions on the walls, the ritual paintings –’ She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. ‘There’s no way the Mayor can force me to retire now. Not when I’m on the brink of my greatest discovery!’

CHAPTER 13

Orial stood beneath the bleak walls of the Sulien Asylum, shivering in the rain-damp wind.

Better to turn back now. Better not to know.

An attendant ushered her across a windswept, weedy courtyard. Barred blank windows stared down at her. And from deep within the building, she heard someone laughing, a cracked, crazy laughter that echoed on and on.