Chapter 3: The Bowl and the Gold BearThe bowl was stone and as wide across as a grown man’s shoulders, but not deep. Carved out of a natural rise in the stone floor of the chamber, it had been the same gray once. That had been a long time ago. Now the bowl was stained brown with the remains of the blood it had collected for centuries. More blood, dried brown, stained the outside of the bowl. It was easy to imagine how the knife might’ve slipped, how their hands might’ve been shaking.
“I want to leave,” Tarquin said.
The cavern was dark, even with the torches flickering bravely in their sconces and his mother’s hearth lights. His voice echoed, though the chamber didn’t seem large enough for it. He pushed closer to his mother’s side, held that much more tightly to her hand.
“You have noth
