embedded in the ground.
At the center was a keyhole.
The same eagle stamp.
Lily looked into the dark trees behind her.
No headlights.
No voices.
Only rain ticking on leaves.
She put the brass key into the lock.
It resisted.
She did not force it.
She eased it left, then right, then pressed down.
The mechanism clicked.
Not loudly.
But in the silence of the mountain, it sounded like a gun being cocked.
The iron plate shifted.
A seam opened beneath the cliff.
Cold air breathed out.
It smelled
