Read Online Hunt Through the Cradle of Fear by Gabriel Hunt, Charles Ardai - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gabriel Hunt, Charles Ardai
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one had figured out how the Egyptians had managed to build the pyramids either. There was no shortage of mechanical marvels on the Giza Plateau.
Of course, the question of how one might build a trap like this was of secondary importance. The first order of business was surviving this one.
So: what to do?
Not pour the mud, clearly; he couldn’t even move the pail onto the stone surface surrounding the basin, since the weight would set off the trap. Nor could he put his own weight on it—but how could he make it across to the other side without doing so?
Gabriel thought about it. It had taken perhaps half a minute between when Rashidi had poured the mud and when the mechanism had crushed him. In theory Gabriel might be able to rush across in that time and be out of the way of the descending block before it fell. In theory. And in practice, too, if he’d been upright, with room to maneuver. But not in this tight, narrow tunnel—he couldn’t inch his way far enough fast enough, which no doubt had been what the men who built the tunnel had in mind.
But there had to be a way through. Unless the builders were merely playing a cruel game and there was no reliquary to be found, only a tool for slaughtering unwary priests who were foolish enough to follow the instructions you gave them, to deposit the treasure of the Nile in the place you provided for it…
The place provided for it.
If Gabriel had had more room, he might have slapped himself on the forehead. Of course. What if there had been more than one place provided for it? A priest of Sekhmet would know how to follow the instructions properly, while an impostor would make the same mistake Rashidi and Sheba had made, and that Gabriel had nearly made himself.
Where did Hathor’s floods deposit the life-giving silt that brought fertility to the Nile Valley? In a basin at thebottom of the river? No—on the river’s banks, for Egyptians to find and harvest.
And here he was in a V-shaped channel, with the walls angling away to either side—like a river.
Who said the blocks before him were the only portion of the tunnel walls that could move?
Gabriel reached into the pail, grabbed a handful of mud, and smeared it on the wall beside him, as high up as he could reach. He coated the surface and went back for more. He slapped the mud onto the stone, piling it up, replacing it when bits slid down. Bit by bit, he built up the upper portion of the V, filling in the angle, adding the weight of the mud to the stone surface. He felt it move, very slightly, as the mud accumulated—and as he reached the bottom of the pail, he heard a soft grinding noise deep inside the wall.
This was it. A mechanism was turning.
But which mechanism?
He looked up at the deadly stone above him, ominous in the flickering flame of his lighter. If it came down, it would come in an instant, snuffing him out like…well, like the flame went out now as he hastily pocketed the lighter.
The sound grew louder, and apparently it was audible outside, too, because he heard Sheba scream, “Gabriel, no!”
“Gabriel?” DeGroet said, and then he said something else, but Gabriel couldn’t hear what it was because the grinding of the stone was too loud in his ears—
And then the angled wall beside him began to turn in earnest beneath its mantle of mud.
As the wall rotated counterclockwise, the top portion headed downwards—but the bottom portion, the portion closer to Gabriel, turned upwards, and it wedged itself under Gabriel as it went, lifting him, till finally a longsection of the side wall was horizontal and he was lying on top of it, his burnoose thickly covered with mud.
And it wasn’t done yet.
One more turn of the hidden mechanism and the wall was now angled downward again—only in the opposite direction, facing away from the tunnel rather than toward it.
At which point gravity took over, and Gabriel went sliding through the mud, off the edge, and out into space.
Chapter 9
He fell for
Of course, the question of how one might build a trap like this was of secondary importance. The first order of business was surviving this one.
So: what to do?
Not pour the mud, clearly; he couldn’t even move the pail onto the stone surface surrounding the basin, since the weight would set off the trap. Nor could he put his own weight on it—but how could he make it across to the other side without doing so?
Gabriel thought about it. It had taken perhaps half a minute between when Rashidi had poured the mud and when the mechanism had crushed him. In theory Gabriel might be able to rush across in that time and be out of the way of the descending block before it fell. In theory. And in practice, too, if he’d been upright, with room to maneuver. But not in this tight, narrow tunnel—he couldn’t inch his way far enough fast enough, which no doubt had been what the men who built the tunnel had in mind.
But there had to be a way through. Unless the builders were merely playing a cruel game and there was no reliquary to be found, only a tool for slaughtering unwary priests who were foolish enough to follow the instructions you gave them, to deposit the treasure of the Nile in the place you provided for it…
The place provided for it.
If Gabriel had had more room, he might have slapped himself on the forehead. Of course. What if there had been more than one place provided for it? A priest of Sekhmet would know how to follow the instructions properly, while an impostor would make the same mistake Rashidi and Sheba had made, and that Gabriel had nearly made himself.
Where did Hathor’s floods deposit the life-giving silt that brought fertility to the Nile Valley? In a basin at thebottom of the river? No—on the river’s banks, for Egyptians to find and harvest.
And here he was in a V-shaped channel, with the walls angling away to either side—like a river.
Who said the blocks before him were the only portion of the tunnel walls that could move?
Gabriel reached into the pail, grabbed a handful of mud, and smeared it on the wall beside him, as high up as he could reach. He coated the surface and went back for more. He slapped the mud onto the stone, piling it up, replacing it when bits slid down. Bit by bit, he built up the upper portion of the V, filling in the angle, adding the weight of the mud to the stone surface. He felt it move, very slightly, as the mud accumulated—and as he reached the bottom of the pail, he heard a soft grinding noise deep inside the wall.
This was it. A mechanism was turning.
But which mechanism?
He looked up at the deadly stone above him, ominous in the flickering flame of his lighter. If it came down, it would come in an instant, snuffing him out like…well, like the flame went out now as he hastily pocketed the lighter.
The sound grew louder, and apparently it was audible outside, too, because he heard Sheba scream, “Gabriel, no!”
“Gabriel?” DeGroet said, and then he said something else, but Gabriel couldn’t hear what it was because the grinding of the stone was too loud in his ears—
And then the angled wall beside him began to turn in earnest beneath its mantle of mud.
As the wall rotated counterclockwise, the top portion headed downwards—but the bottom portion, the portion closer to Gabriel, turned upwards, and it wedged itself under Gabriel as it went, lifting him, till finally a longsection of the side wall was horizontal and he was lying on top of it, his burnoose thickly covered with mud.
And it wasn’t done yet.
One more turn of the hidden mechanism and the wall was now angled downward again—only in the opposite direction, facing away from the tunnel rather than toward it.
At which point gravity took over, and Gabriel went sliding through the mud, off the edge, and out into space.
Chapter 9
He fell for
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