The Inheritance of Aster Hall and the Fall of the Ashford Empire
I knelt on the cold stone, the knees of my trousers dampening instantly.
I shoved the iron shelf aside, the metal scraping loudly against the walls.
Beneath it lay a brass plate set directly into the stone, green with age.
In the center of the plate was a rotary dial, cold and stiff to the touch.
I gripped the brass dial with my thumb and forefinger.
I turned it slowly to forty-two, feeling the heavy tumbler click deep inside the stone.
I reversed the turn, stopping at eleven.
My fingers were slick with sweat, making it hard to grip the metal.
I made the final turn to seventy-six.
A sharp, metallic pop echoed through the small space.
The limestone slab shifted upward by an inch.
I wedged my fingers beneath the edge of the stone and hoisted it back.
The slab was incredibly heavy, scraping against the surrounding floor as it tipped over.
A gust of freezing, musty air rushed up from the opening, smelling of damp earth and old paper.
A narrow set of stone steps descended into the blackness below.