Chapter Twenty-One
TALIK
“How long do you think we have been going around in circles for?” Talik asked, unable to hide the annoyance in his voice or his frustration.
He combed through his mind, trying to work out when they had lost their way.
It was as Dante had explained it, a maze.
Slowly standing up, he cast another glance at the footprints.
Nothing else looked familiar about the section they were in, except that at some point they had walked through here and had no recollection of it.
He tapped his watch. It was still working as far as he could tell. The reception this far underground left a lot to be desired, but they were not entirely cut off from the rest of the world. Not that he completely trusted technology.
“I don’t know,” Khalida answered. She hadn’t moved from her position, still holding the flashlight up so he could see. Even in the dim light, her hair was like a beacon in the darkness. She tilted her head and closed her eyes. “Do you hear that?”
Tap. Tap.
The sound of water dripping. He followed the sound and looked up toward the corner of the ceiling.
It was directly above the symbol of Ninhursag.
He could have sworn there had been no water when Khalida had reached out to touch it, but now small droplets pooled on the ceiling.
Somehow defying gravity, and as if by divine intervention, the water appeared to roll along the rocks, keeping a wide berth around the carving.
He shook the flashlight, just in case he was hallucinating, and looked back up.
The pit of his stomach dropped when it continued to occur.
Gravity was not supposed to work that way.
There was no other sound or hint that they were no longer alone.
Except for every fiber of his being telling him that something else was down there with them.
The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up as some sort of warning signal.
The last time he’d had that feeling was in Egypt, when they had come face-to-face with the wayfarers. And he didn’t believe in coincidences.
Khalida stiffened behind him. The faint scrape of her sword as she ran the tip along the stone top told him she had sensed the same thing as him.
He moved to unholster his blaster, checking that he was primed to go.
The muted red light near the scope reminded him it was set to lethal and that he had switched to live rounds.
Focusing on their surroundings, he strained to hear as much as he could, but there was nothing else—not even the scurry of a fattened rat or an insect.
The absence of life should have triggered a reaction from them earlier, but neither of them had noticed. Now, it was him and Khalida, and the systematic tap of dripping water that appeared on cue.
Where had the water come from?
He took a step forward. An ivory pedestal, hidden by the shadows but wedged between the coffin and the wall, came into sight. It had not been there before. Goose bumps exploded over his body as he took another step. The reaction made him pause for a second before he pushed it away.
The pedestal was a singular carving of a woman with wings, holding what looked like rope in her hand. Cobwebs surrounded most of the figure, and the rest had been ravaged by time. But even now, he could see the beauty it once held.
He angled his wrist, so the pale-blue light placed an ethereal glow over the pedestal.
He crept to where it stood, placing the flashlight in his mouth as he dusted the top.
Cobwebs and fine dust flittered around him, the particles settling on him like a thin layer of snow.
A small rectangular box lay on the pedestal.
There were no obvious carvings or jewels that would have made it tempting for thieves and treasure hunters to steal.
A pale, boring brown color, Talik would have ignored it entirely in any other situation.
Biting on the metal flashlight, he gestured at Khalida trying to get her attention.
“Flashlight.”
He removed it from his mouth. “It is a box about the size of a book.”
“Can you open it?”
He lifted the box up; it was lighter than he had expected. A sudden chill surrounded him as he held it to the flashlight. In the limited light, the box looked translucent. The movement dislodged something, a faint rustling sounded within. And then it suddenly stopped.
“Is the box made from orichalcum?”
The metal was almost translucent in its natural form and featherlight. If it was Atlantean, it was more than likely the famed metal.
“Perhaps.” He traced the outer edges, the metal warm to touch. “I can feel a key slot. It feels like it is about an inch long. But there are no other openings.”
Shy of dropping it to see if the box would break, they were going to have to wait until they were back in the library to see what was in it—if it was of anything of value or just another pretty trinket box.
He loosened his backpack and rearranged the items so he could safely place the box inside before zipping it back up.
“Give me a second. Just in case we don’t have access again.” Talik pulled out the small camera before he quickly turned it on and took photos of the carving and the pedestal. “For posterity’s sake.”
He threw the backpack back on his shoulders, tightening the straps. The chill continued to seep into his bones.
“Do you sense anything unusual?” Khalida asked quietly. “In two hours, we haven’t come across any living animal, not even an insect.”
He didn’t miss the hint of self-loathing in her tone and knew that she would berate herself for not having noticed the entire absence of life earlier. Just like him.
“We should return to the surface,” Khalida said as she effortlessly jumped off the tomb, landing quietly.
Talik nodded before he moved back to the original path, facing the direction they had come from.
He attached the flashlight to his chest, looping it onto the strap of his backpack and changing the light to a pale yellow.
It was enough light that he could navigate but wouldn’t hinder Khalida.
He glanced at the small red dots on Rose and Blanche.
The girls were good to go if they needed any firepower.
He tapped the hilt on his hip. So was the dagger.
“No heroics,” Talik reminded Khalida. He, on the other hand, was in no danger of doing anything heroic.
“I told you. I have no plan on dying anytime soon,” Khalida retorted. “Do you want to take the lead? If we follow the same path, we should be able to return to the library.”
Talik smirked. “I thought you would never ask.”
He took a step but stopped, sniffing the air. It was suddenly filled with the scent of pomegranate, and as quick as he could sense it, it was gone.
They retraced their steps, moving at a faster pace than when they had started.
Khalida halted behind him.
A faint giggle echoed through the catacombs.
The laughter grew louder, surrounding him. But that wasn’t what held him in place. His body was too heavy to turn as his heart was once again wrenched from his chest and smashed into broken pieces that would never perfectly fit together, no matter how much he tried.
The laughter was soft and sweet—the sound of hope and love entwined with each other. It didn’t belong among the dead or the living.
That laugh had haunted his dreams for centuries.
It was Sidra’s laugh.
He turned to reach for Khalida, but she was already gone.