Something moved in the darkness ahead and Caitlanna froze. Several curses rested on her lips but she kept silent. Had she been discovered? The movement grew closer and her heart pounded in her ears. Dizziness threatened and she pressed one dirty hand against the cave wall to steady herself. If she extinguished her clay lamp, could she see well enough to get away from an attacker? Would he turn her in before he raped her? Probably not. Her father’s sword rested against her back and she shifted it, the heaviness reassuring her. She had let the others believe she knew how to use it.

When a ratmouse scrambled past her with a noisy piece of something glimmering from its teeth, she let out a relieved snicker, and wondered whether she could keep her composure much longer. She ignored the pile of useless jewels and reached a shaky hand into the crevice. Her heart thudded against her ribs.

Concentrate, she told herself. Don’t drop it. You can do this.

She pushed sweat and stray hairs from her brow with the single swipe of her arm and withdrew the treasure from its tiny tomb. Lamp light reflected on the face looking back at her. The Mask of Tamirella. It was here, just as her father had suspected. She forced her hand steady as she clasped the famed artifact and drew it from its time-rotted box.

Caitlanna cradled the find as a new mother would hold her infant. So small was the Mask, barely as large as her hand, and the pale features as delicate as a young child’s. She fingered the ancient, brittle material and wondered at such craftsmanship. Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision. She blinked hard and wished that her father had lived to see this. He’d searched his entire life for the Mask only to meet his premature death in a cave-in.

The others from Cait’s excavation group had gone to camp for the night and she was alone, grateful that the threat of rain had forced them to make camp on elevated ground some distance from this site. No one would hear her, she hoped. If they found her out, they might let her go because she wasn’t yet a full-grown, but she would be beaten for stealing, of that much she was certain. She might not be full-grown but men noticed her developed body, slim as she was. And, as further punishment, every man here would probably take pleasure with her before they released her. The Shore Sanction didn’t have the best reputation. She fought a shiver and reassured herself that she was alone.

Fear of the cursed artifact tempered many local archaeologists into remaining far away from this entire area, but Caitlanna didn’t buy into all that curse stuff. Mutants, dagbeasts, illness, hunger, those existed. Curses were fables of the ignorant. Her father had taught her well and this find would bring a good price, not to mention a possible promotion from striker status to finder.

Carefully, she wrapped her treasure in a ragcloth and placed it in a wooden box that had been padded with straw. Her fingers traced the carved initials in the top of the box, FHM, her father and first primary caregiver, Finder Hendrake Mullen.

“I found the Mask,” Cait uttered in the damp quiet of the cave. Her father’s image popped into her mind, almost void of features now. She fought a sigh that she’d forgotten what he looked like. Her tunic clung to her sweaty body and she adjusted it before taking up the clay, fat-burning lamp. A noise outside caught her ears and her heart sprinted. She waited a moment, shielding the lamp light from the cave entrance, but no one came inside.

Once her heart calmed, she headed out into the hot, stagnant night with the lamp in one hand and the box under her arm. She took in a long breath of sea air. It smelled of rain. The rise and fall of waves met her ears. Graypony drank from the makeshift trough just outside. He whinnied once, as though to scold her for sneaking up on him. When she smoothed his rump, he turned back to his water.

The full moon glimmered off the sea and gave off enough light to make out the landscape. Caitlanna scanned the shadows for danger. No one seemed to be around and she relaxed. Thankfully, no one had noticed she was missing from her blankets.

Why would they? she thought. Unless one of the men decided to take her for his pleasure and found her tent vacant. She hastened her movements.  less