Chapter 17 #2
“We don’t have gods,” he muttered. “That said, I guess blood could act as a key.” He didn’t hesitate to run the machete blade over his forearm.
“Leo!” she exhaled, shocked at his action.
“It’s a baby cut,” he chided as he pressed the bloody wound to the stone—to no effect.
Before he could ask, she moaned, “Let me guess, my turn to donate plasma.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But if I don’t, then we won’t know if it works. The longer this takes, the longer before I can get out of this godforsaken jungle,” she grumbled. She held out her arm and looked away. “Make it quick before I lose my nerve.”
He only made the tiniest of nicks, but she still bit her lip. This was crazy. As if her blood could—
The moment she smeared it on the stone, the door began to grind.
Her jaw dropped. She’d not actually thought it would work.
Cold air wafted. Much cooler than seemed normal.
“Ready, Buttercup?”
Not really but she tucked close behind as Leo stepped in first, willingly entering the darkness. Every single movie she’d ever seen about dark caves and the dangers lurking within ran through her mind in that instance.
Gulp.
“Hold on a second and let’s see if this ruin behaves like the one Scorpio entered,” he muttered.
A faint glow suddenly illuminated the cave they stood in.
“How did you do that?” she exclaimed.
His fingertips brushed the wall. “This ruin is built inside a meteor, which is reacting to my presence.”
“More magic.” Funny how it didn’t seem so abnormal anymore after only a few days.
Only a few days? It felt like much longer since Leo had come into her life and shaken her reality to its core—and rocked her world.
She’d never been one to believe in those who claimed instant connections to a person.
Surely it took time to build bonds, and yet here she found herself in lust and—if she were honest—falling in love.
“Doesn’t look like there’s anything in this chamber,” he noted.
Ruth stepped past Leo to look around. For all her father had been a grand explorer, she’d never actually been inside something of archeological importance, unless The Wyckoff House in New York counted.
The room appeared plain. Smooth walls with two openings. The door they’d entered and an arch at the rear.
Leo strode to the second exit, and as he stepped over its threshold, a grinding sound had her whirling. “The door’s closing.”
Before either of them could react—or pull a movie move and throw something in the gap to stop it—they were sealed inside.
As panic filled Ruth’s veins, her heart began to race. “How will we get out?”
“By fetching what we came for,” his ominous reply.
“Assuming we can find it.”
“Have faith, Buttercup. If Scorpio could figure out the last ruin, then I’m sure it will be a breeze for us.” His optimism eased her somewhat.
“So what’s next?”
“Looks like our first puzzle. The next room has another door, and the walls are covered in symbols.” A faint glow emanated from beyond the arch, illuminating him.
Ruth joined him in a room not much larger than the last and noticed the markings randomly carved all over.
“They’re all the same,” she remarked. Three intersecting lines, the size of her fingertip, dotting the entire space—floor, walls, ceiling. The door at the rear appeared closed and had no handle or keyhole, nothing to indicate how to open it. However, that wasn’t the most disturbing thing.
“There’s a body,” she huffed, spotting the pile of bones in the corner. Had she just found her father?
Leo showed no qualms about crouching beside it and poking it with his machete. “Been here a long time. Given the revolver is a Colt Walker, that most likely makes it more than a hundred years old.”
“How did he die?” A question asked and answered by a grinding noise that had whirling in time to see the room being sealed by a slab of stone. Despite the futility, she pounded on it. It didn’t open.
“Don’t panic,” Leo commanded as tremors invaded her body.
“Easy for you to say. I don’t usually deal in life-and-death situations.”
“We won’t die. We simply have to figure out the puzzle.”
She snorted. “Because that’s so easy. Just ask the dead guy in the corner.” In her fear, she lashed out, but Leo remained calm.
“The answer is in this room.”
“You’re assuming we’ll figure it out,” she muttered darkly as she paced the walls, looking for something out of the ordinary. No holes, no nubs sticking out, or depressions, just asterisks dotted all over. “Those carvings remind me of how a child draws stars,” she observed.
“Because they are. Duh,” Leo exclaimed. “Hold on. Let me see if I can find… Aha.” He pointed. “There’s my constellation.”
“Yay for you.”
“Yes, yay. Watch.” He strode to the wall and began to press some of the star symbols. Each one lit and remained lit. “There’s one. Now where’s Aries.” Leo went around illuminating the twelve constellations. When he’d touched the final star—
A scraping sound brought a smile of relief, and Ruth clapped her hands. “You opened the door.”
“See? We’ve got this, Buttercup. Shall we?
” He led the way into a tunnel, littered with bodies—some of them seeming fresher than the last, which explained the lingering stench of death.
As to how they died? An axe blade dangled from the ceiling, short arrows littered the floor beside another body, and then there was the gaping chasm.
“Looks like some people triggered the traps already,” Leo declared as if it weren’t obvious. “We can’t be sure there aren’t more, though, so follow my footsteps. And I mean that quite seriously. Do not stray by even an inch.”
With that kind of warning, Ruth intently watched where he placed each foot, noticing he avoided spots where lines etched in the floor converged into knots. When they reached the rift—which appeared bottomless—he glanced at her. “I’ll go over first.”
With those long legs, he leaped easily.
He pivoted and held out his hands. “Now you jump.”
“Like fuck,” she swore.
“It’s not that far. You can do it.”
“Says the very tall man. Short and chubby over here,” she reminded.
“I’ll catch you.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
“If you fall, I’ll jump after you.”
He stated it so seriously she believed him. “Guess I don’t have a choice.” Because there was no way back. Like the previous rooms, this area had also sealed itself shut.
“I am not cut out for this,” Ruth grumbled as she carefully took a step back before flinging herself forward and over.
Even as she soared, she knew she’d not make it.
But Leo kept his word. With his long reach, he grabbed hold of each hand and hauled her close, murmuring, “Told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”
Her heart pounded. “That was terrifying.”
“But you did it.”
She had, but that didn’t bring back the decade fear had shaved off her life. They avoided the partially decomposed body of a man wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt peppered by darts.
The tunnel ended in a door carved in symbols with a body curled beside it. A familiar fedora still on its head.
Her mouth went dry, and she wavered on her feet.
“What’s wrong?” Leo asked, bracing her.
She pointed and in a faint voice murmured, “That’s my father.”