Page 14 of Us in Ruins

That was enough for him to loosen his grip entirely. “Elaborate.”

“It’s been ninety-six years since you walked into this temple for the first time, and you’re the only person who’s ever gotten even a little bit close to finding the Vase of Venus Aurelia, which is a huge deal, like congratulations, and everybody thought you died but apparently you were just turned into a statue, and your team split up after the accident, and then someone found your journal, and it ended up in my school library, and—” Margot gulped down a breath. “Now you’re here. With me. And no Vase.”

Which was just a teeny tiny lie, but Margot could still feel the curve of her lip, angling upward in a betraying smile. Hopefully Van couldn’t read her like an open book. And-slash-or hadn’t somehow developed supernatural X-ray vision during his tenure as a hunk of marble that would let him see the shard shoved deep, deep into her pocket.

Telling him about it now would sacrifice the only upper hand she had. She couldn’t afford to do that.

Van finally let go of Margot’s collar. Which was now completely wrinkled, but whatever. She hit the floor with a thud.

He thumbed at a divot between his eyebrows. “How?”

“How what?” Margot asked, picking herself up.

“How did I get turned into a statue? How did the Vase vanish? How did this all go wrong?” He’d slumped against the altar. With his head pressed between his palms, his shoulders sloped in on themselves. Before Margot could say anything, do anything, to console him, Van zipped upright. Composed, calm. Like maybe some of his memories all rushed back to him at once. “That’s it.”

“What’s it?” Margot’s eyebrows shot up. “You know where the shards went?”

The cogs in his head were spinning—she could see it in his eyes. He was focused on something hidden, puzzling it out. Not listening to her at all. To himself, he whispered, “They reset. They have to be earned again.”

It only hardened Margot’s resolve. “I’m going to find it. The rest of the Vase.”

“No, you’re not.”

Okay, so he apparently had very selective hearing.

“Yes, I am.” Margot pulled her shoulders back, ironing out the curve in her spine to look him straight in the eyes. “I have to. It’s the whole reason I’m here, and you’re going to help me do it.”

Van laughed once, one monosyllabic bark. “I don’t do partners. Not anymore. And I definitely don’t work with you.”

Margot squared her shoulders. “Why not?”

Van’s calculated stare bore into her. In the dark centers of his eyes, all her insecurities reflected back at her. “You lack the qualifications.”

“Like what?” Margot asked, crossing her arms to hold herself together.

“Like proper attire.”

“I have other clothes back at my hotel,” Margot huffed. “So, that’s not even a good argument. Plus, you’ll never find them all without me.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Van said, a triumphant slant to his words.

Margot wished she could say she was above pleading, but she wasn’t. “I’m telling you that you need me as much as I need you.”

“Which is why you couldn’t be bothered to put on proper clothes?”

“This is very cute, very respectable sleepwear!” Margot groaned, stepping closer. She pressed an accusing finger against his chest. “If I hadn’t come down here, you’d still be a two-ton pile of stone. It wouldn’t kill you to say thank you, you know. I’m not some—”

Margot’s phone decided that was an incredible time for the battery to die.

A stifling darkness shrouded them, suffocatingly heavy. Then, with a strike, a globe of orange flared the end of a matchstick. Van returned a box of matches to his pocket and reached for a torch that hung against a nearby pillar. He doused it in flames. Stark shadows probed through the temple in contrast to the sudden light.

The nave illuminated—taller and wider than Margot could have possibly imagined. The ruins overhead were nothing in comparison to the grandeur of this buried temple.

Every wall was painted in brilliant colors, colors the sun hadn’t been able to wash away. Rich, indulgent pigment stained every surface, painting visions of rolling fields with wildflower blooms and still seas. Twin staircases on either side led to railed balconies that wreathed the temple’s walls. A palace suitable for a goddess.

Van barely noticed. This place was old news to him.

“I’ll survive just fine without you,” he said. Not cocky, just... certain.

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