Revealed by P. C. & Kristin Cast Page B

fine for a couple of days,” Stark said. “They all have those big auto feeders and they like to drink from that shower up in the depot that won’t turn off, remember?”
    “Their potty pans will get super nasty.” I grimaced, just thinking about how uber-grumpy that would make the already grumpy Nala.
    “Yeah, that’s going to be disgusting,” Stark said. Darius grunted in agreement. “I feel sorry for poor Duchess being stuck with all of those cats.”
    “Hey, she’s liking the cats,” I reminded him. “She was actually sleeping with Damien’s Cammy cat.”
    “Everyone likes Damien’s Cammy,” Stark said, smiling.
    “If we have to stay here for more than one more night, I’m going to tell Thanatos that we need to get our cats, and Duchess, no matter what the cops say about it,” I said.
    “We are not criminals. We have done nothing wrong and should be allowed to leave—to go on about our normal lives,” Darius said. Even he sounded frustrated.
    “And yet we’re basically locked up here,” I said.
    Neither of them had anything to say about that. What was there to say? The truth was that a crazy immortal, who might still be more specter than solid body, had probably eaten the mayor. How were we going to prove that, and even if we could come up with proof, would the human police believe our evidence, or was it just too crazy? The depressing but true answer was: they weren’t going to believe it, because it was super, super crazy.
    Darius had remembered right—the basement was long and dark and had a cold, stone floor. There weren’t any electric lights down there, just gas lanterns hanging from really old iron hooks along the stone walls between the wall-mounted swords and shields. When Darius and Stark lit the lanterns, light danced off the metal surfaces as if they were living, breathing things.
    “This could totally be a setting for
Game of Thrones
,” I said.
    “Which is awesome,” Stark said.
    “If by awesome you mean dungeon-like and creepy,” I said.
    “But dry and underground,” Stark said. “Hey, there’re actually some electric outlets down here. Put up room dividers, bring down sleeping bags, beanbag chairs, and a few TVs with DVD players, and it’ll be better than camping.”
    “That’s not saying much. Almost anything is better than camping,” I said.
    “Getting toasted by the sun is not better than camping,” Darius said.
    “Gotta agree with you there,” Stark said.
    “Hey, are these actually real?” I asked, mesmerized by the hilt of one of the swords, which was jewel- or glass-encrusted and glittering.
    “Be assured, Priestess,” Darius said. “All of the stones are real.”
    “Holy crap!” I said. “They’re beautiful and they have to be worth a fortune. Why did Dragon keep them down here? Shouldn’t they be on display somewhere or locked in a vault or something?”
    “I remember hearing Dragon comment that he didn’t believe in displaying all of our riches for everyone to see,” Darius said.
    “Doesn’t sound like Neferet, though. She was all about displaying riches, and Neferet was his High Priestess,” Stark said.
    “I am not certain if Neferet knew about this stash of weapons. It was something Dragon controlled. I do not ever remember Neferet coming here or speaking of any of the ancient swords or shields.” Darius spoke slowly, as if reasoning aloud. “She took little interest in any weapon but that of her own power.”
    “You mean you don’t think she knows about this place at all?” I said.
    “She may not,” Darius agreed.
    “That would be really good for us,” Stark said. “Not only does it mean she wouldn’t know about the basement, but like Zoey said, there’s a fortune in jewels and gold hanging on these walls.”
    “But every House of Night is independently wealthy,” Darius said. “Why would we need a hidden fortune in jewels and gold?”
    “Each
House of Night
is rich,” I said. “But we’ve already begun breaking