Seizure(50)

“Others?” Hi said.

“You think that’s the only one?” Shelton’s voice was back in the stratosphere. “That whole passage is probably a death trap.”

“Keep your flares lit,” Ben ordered, “no matter what.”

“We’ll proceed slow and steady, like the turtle.” I sounded like a high school coach prepping his team. “Our senses will detect the traps before they activate.”

Would they? They had to. No way I was quitting. These pirates weren’t going to outsmart me.

“You still want to go in there?” Shelton. Incredulous.

“Of course,” I said. “If something’s hidden in that tunnel, I intend to find it.”

“Treasure,” Hi said. “Mucho dinero. I’m so in.”

“Then we better hustle,” Ben said. “It’ll be dawn in a few hours.”

At the mouth of the passage, cool air washed over me. I sniffed, straining for clues of what lay beyond.

Stone. Mildew. Salt water. No help there.

The others gathered behind me.

Deep breath.

I stepped into darkness.





THE SECOND TUNNEL was wide enough for two to walk side by side.

Well constructed, the passage had semi-smooth walls and a level floor. Stout oak crossbeams braced the ceiling at regular intervals.

Yet the passage was clearly ancient. Despite air movement, the atmosphere was musty and sour. Slimy mud coated the ground.

Slowly, we edged forward, clumped close, our flare senses on high alert.

Hi was beside me, holding the lantern. Its halogen bulb illuminated a ten-foot radius, allowing my pupils to register details with remarkable clarity.

As we crept along, the beam-and-blade trap dominated my thoughts.

I remembered the verse on the treasure map. Not the first line. I was sure we’d bypassed the tunnel entrance, making “Lady Peregrine’s roost” a moot point. My focus was on the second line.

“Begin thy winding to the dark chamber’s sluice.”

Dark chamber’s sluice? What could that be?

My mind sifted possibilities. Came up empty. I was forced to admit that, without more, the rhyme was too vague to be useful.

And the map’s other stanza? What did those words mean?

I felt Hi grab my arm. My head turned. He was staring at the ground.

“Don’t. Move.”

Ever so slowly, Hi knelt, then lay flat on his belly, eyes glued to a spot at my feet.

“What is it?” Shelton’s face had drawn level with my ear.

Hi’s gaze rolled to the ceiling. Gingerly, he eased back to his feet.

“No one move. There’s a tripwire ahead, and it might not be alone.”

“Tripwire?” Shelton quavered. “For what?”

“For whatever’s above our heads. Snap the wire and something nasty’s coming down.”

My eyes darted upward. Hi was right. Three vertical slots split the ceiling, spaced at one-yard intervals.

Ben’s flashlight probed the far left opening.

“Metal grates, hanging by ropes.” His beam worked its way right. “Spikes along the bottom.”

Gulp.

“Everyone stay still,” Hi said. “I’ll check for other wires.”

“Go slowly,” I warned. “Please be careful.”

Hi studied the ground, rotating the lantern in a circular pattern. Finally, he began inching forward.

Step. Pause. Step. Pause. Then he lifted his knee in a long stride.

I stared at the space Hi had high-stepped, stretching my flare vision to its limit.

And saw it.

A strand no thicker than fishing line. The filament crossed the passage at knee level, virtually invisible in the murky light.

Without Hi’s sharper eyes, we’d have tripped it. A chill passed through me.

So close.

“There’s only one wire.” Hi was barely breathing. “I’m straddling the sucker to show where it is.”

Sweat dripped from Ben’s chin. “Don’t screw up.”

Legs spread, Hi gestured us forward.

It was almost comical. A mime’s game. Hi squatted over nothing, poised in a shaky basketball defensive stance.

“Come on,” he urged. “I can’t stay like this all day.”

I went first, eyes never straying from the wire. Once over, I scurried from the danger zone.

Shelton came next, moving slower, face a mask of concentration. Ben traversed the obstacle nimbly, then offered a hand back to Hi.

Shaking him off, Hi swung his back leg over the wire, ballet style. He turned in a pirouette, grin already forming. Then his plant foot slipped on the slick floor. As he fell, his back leg slashed the tripwire.

Something groaned and shifted overhead. Pebbles rained from the slots in the roof.

Ben moved quick as a bullet.

Grabbing Hi with both hands, he backpedaled with a powerful lunge. The two slammed into Shelton and me, bowling us over.

Objects fell from the ceiling with a terrible shriek. Dust billowed in clouds.

Then the clamor ceased. The dirt began to settle.

Coughing and spitting, we picked ourselves up and inventoried the damage.

“Anyone hurt?” I asked, wiping grit from my eyes.

“No.”