A puff of stale air escaped as the lid cracked slightly. The encrusted metal edges held firm but opened enough to allow for widening. Rowan eased the gap further, careful not to scrape the interior. Sunlight struck something brass buried deep in the shadows, sending a sharp glimmer across the chamber.
For a moment, he considered closing the lid again. A lifetime of caution urged retreat, but curiosity pressed harder. He lifted it fully. Inside lay no treasure or remains. There was only a brass key, ornate and engraved, wrapped tightly in brittle oilcloth that crumbled at his touch.