What do you think?
Rate this book


400 pages, Paperback
First published July 28, 2015
“Right, those of you with guns and things, you go in first. I’ll keep lookout,” Sax commanded. He was standing at the mouth of the cave, pale December sunlight at his back. Nobody moved. “I hired you lot to do the heavy lifting,” he added. When the rest still didn’t move, he swore under his breath. Then he fixed them all with his manliest gaze, one after the other. It was clear they weren’t going into the cave without their feckless leader. He must act. He could almost smell the precious metals. So Sax marched into the chilly darkness, bold as pink buttons.
Sax was energized, he suspected, by the simple act of making something happen. Not everyone, after all, got the Vatican’s blessing to go out and look for a vampire’s hoard, and was given a piece of Italian beefcake to go along with it.
He could smell the musty air from within the chateau, now, a cool, dry scent of old dust, stone, and the exhalation of ancient wood.
It was an odor Sax loved. It was the smell of ancient beauty, of things that needed bringing back to life. Gentle cleaning, damp sponges, white vinegar, beeswax and oil, new air, new eyes to gaze upon them: time itself leaves a skin on things, the way the air leaves sulfur on silver, turning it black. When that obscuring film is removed, the light in the heart of things radiates.