The Tyrant's Tomb

I glanced back at Meg and Lavinia. Meg stood at the base of the stairs,
blocking any possible retreat. The glittery unicorn on her T-shirt grinned at
me hideously.
Lavinia met my eyes as if to say, Yes, those masks are messed up. Now,
keep moving.
We followed Hazel down the corridor, every clink and rustle of our
weapons echoing against the barreled ceiling. I was sure the Berkeley
Seismology Lab, several miles away, would pick up my heartbeat on their
seismographs and send out earthquake early warnings.
The tunnel split several times, but Hazel always seemed to know which
direction to take. Occasionally she’d stop, look back at us, and point urgently
to some part of the floor, reminding us not to stray from her path. I didn’t
know what would happen if I took a wrong step, but I had no desire to have
my death mask added to Tarquin’s collection.
After what seemed like hours, I began to hear water dripping somewhere
in front of us. The tunnel opened into a circular room like a large cistern, the
floor nothing but a narrow stone path across a deep dark pool. Hooked on the
far wall were half a dozen wicker boxes like lobster traps, each with a
circular opening at the bottom just the right size for…Oh, gods. Each box
was the right size to be fitted over a person’s head.
A tiny whimper escaped my mouth.
Hazel glanced back and mouthed, What?
A half-remembered story floated up from the sludge of my brain: how
Tarquin had executed one of his enemies by drowning him in a sacred pool
—binding the man’s hands, placing a wicker cage over his head, then slowly
adding rocks to the cage until the man could no longer keep his head above
water.
Apparently, Tarquin still enjoyed that particular form of entertainment.
I shook my head. You don’t want to know.
Hazel, being wise, took my word for it. She led us onward.
Just before the next chamber, Hazel held up a hand in warning. We
halted. Following her gaze, I could make out two skeleton guards at the far
side of the room, flanking an elaborately carved stone archway. The guards
faced each other, wearing full war helmets, which was probably why they
hadn’t spotted us yet. If we made the slightest sound, if they glanced this
way for any reason, we would be seen.