Locked Box

The cavern led Hieta to a tiny locked box. The thin carvings contradicted the weight of the object—almost as heavy as her cat back home. Swirls drew her eyes in a spiralling pattern across the surface. Nimble flecks of gold appeared and disappeared as she turned the box over in her hands and she thought she noticed nearly undetectable gems inlaid in the wood, following the spiral patterns of the carvings. The Search had taken her across the world but never had she come across such an intricate specimen.

Thyminus would have loved to hold this in his well-worn hands. He would have found a way to trace its roots all the way back. Farther than anyone else could have done. 

He had, however, trained Hieta well and her eyes pointed her in the direction of the information she sought. 

A small notch, carved in the bottom left corner of the base of the box, was certainly deeper than the slip of a knife.

Hieta extracted a slim leather case from her canvas pack and leafed through the sheets of transfer paper until she found an appropriately thin pick.

It was not a lock pick—she had an entirely different case for those. Rather it was a hollow steel rod whose tip had been soaked in a highly acidic solution thus allowing the rob to become filled with liquid. Once placed in the cavity of the box, the solution would release and the mechanism holding the box together would disintegrate. 

Hieta held the rod with fingers lighter than air, careful not to touch anything and unleash the acid held within. This particular rod was just one millimeter thick, the perfect size for the box’s keyhole.

She placed the rod into the opening and, after just a moment, heard a soft click. 

It was just like all the others, the just-audible change of metal accompanied by burning wood with a slight acrid twinge.

This box, however, popped open immediately. Most boxes stayed lightly shut until pried open with another tool buried within the depths of her pack. Either the mechanism had been quite new, incredibly old, or—no. Hieta’s breath stopped short and cold overtook her limbs. Someone had wanted her to find this box. 

An intentioned breath drew from behind her; the box fell to the floor as she began to turn to face the creature. Before she could move more than an inch, the icy press of damascus steel met her neck. 

“Oh my dear Hieta, I’ve been waiting for so long to meet you.”