Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 98
useless, think how useless those sovereigns are. Now don't be
foolish. We have a job to do." This was a rehearsed speech,
but his delivery had real passion behind it, and it seemed to
work. Choltas' shoulders slumped.
Corres tapped against each niche. "The right one seems
newer," he said. "It’s hard to tell."
"We’ll open it first, then try the other one," said Enneas.
Corres swung the hammer back, then glanced at Choltas. He
stood and handed the hammer to the youth. "Go."
Breathing raggedly, Choltas leaned over and swung the
hammer with both hands. The hollow thuds it made didn't
echo, though all the stone around them should have promoted
that effect. Enneas imagined the corpses in their bricked
niches absorbing the sound, shifting a bit and settling with
every blow. He glanced around uneasily.
One of the bricks dented inward, and on Choltas' next
blow it disappeared, leaving a black window. "Shit," said
Choltas as if he'd wanted the wall to stand firm.
"Good." Corres knelt and, putting his hands in the
aperture, pulled. The bricks around the opening twisted out,
then fell with a clatter. Choltas dropped the hammer.
Enneas' own fear reached its peak. This was always the
hardest part for him--facing the body. He knew what to do
from long experience, however: use his anger to deride the
fear, make fun of it and thus extinguish it completely.
"Allow me," he said. Corres grunted and stood up,
dusting his hands fastidiously. Deliberately, Enneas didn't
shine his lamp into the opened niche. He knelt, and stuck his
arm into it.
There was no real odor coming from this niche. It
couldn’t be the general’s, then. Oh well, it might still have
some valuables in it. Enneas kept a casual smile fixed on his