Kaelen’s blood chilled. He’d walked past the Stone Cutter’s Hut, the Turtle Mountain tomb, the dancing figures carved into the rock at Takamatsuzuka. He’d thought they were art. History.
“There’s a leak,” Junko said. “Not in Tokyo. Here. In the soil.” covertjapan asuka
He ran. Not toward the exit, but into the tombs. Kaelen’s blood chilled
The Covert of Asuka