It wasn’t just time that had put the tomb underground. Like pale fungus or a mole salamander, it had been built to breathe below earth, hollowed from the soil, the chambers quarried one by one. The locals called it the house of the fairies, although they had the same word for witch.
Everything inside was red. There were drawings, as in all good caves, and these were red drawn on red. They painted the corpses red, too, once they had sat in the sun and fallen to bone and been carried into the house and seated at the great table.