immediately vault herself forward from the edge of the pit.
Annja looked beyond the chasm. Was there a way to run and jump and avoid the darts when she hit the other rigged tiles?
She could keep the sword up in front of her, of course, but would the blade be enough to deflect the darts? And if one of them hit her, did it have a toxin on it? Or were they simply darts with sharp points?
Too many variables, she decided. Too many unknowns that she couldn’t risk without fear of losing her life.
But what choice did she have?
There was nothing on the walls that surrounded her except a series of holes where she assumed darts would fire out of. No hints about how to get across, no clues as to how to solve this puzzle.
Annja sighed. She wished she could have a few words with Fairclough. Just to get a hint of how he had imagined this maze.
There didn’t seem to be an rhyme or reason to it. Each room she’d been in so far hadn’t behaved the way she’d imagined it would. The table room had held a hidden switch that then plunged her into a pool with a shark in it, followed by a long tunnel swim that left her nearly dead.
And now this.
She shook her head.
What am I missing?
Still kneeling at the edge of the pit, Annja slashed the air with her sword again. The gray light illuminated the tips of the punji sticks. But something seemed strange.
Annja looked again. And then she checked above the chasm.
There.
She stabbed up into the roof directly above the chasm and felt the blade pass seemingly right into the stone ceiling.
Except it wasn’t stone.
It was a painted canvas designed to look like the rest of the ceiling. Annja’s blade cut a swath through it and it dropped down to her. She tested its strength. Would it be strong enough to take her weight?
It was risky.
Annja pulled harder and felt some more of the material rip away from the ceiling. No, it wouldn’t hold her.
No way.
But as she pulled the material she saw something white drop down.
A rope.
Annja smiled. So, Fairclough had given her a way out. But even if intruders figured out the ceiling was a painted canvas, how would they have been able to get to the rope? Annja had the sword, luckily.
But other people?
She shook her head and grabbed the rope. When she put her full body weight on it, it held, and Annja swung across the divide easily.
She still had to be careful when she touched down on the lip of the divide on the other side. And as it was, she had to jump in order to land neatly on one of the rectangular stones.
But she did, aware that a line of sweat had broken out along her hairline.
Annja had little doubt that there’d be even more demanding tasks ahead of her.
She checked her watch before setting off down the corridor again. Twenty minutes had passed. The increments seemed small, but they added up. And somewhere far above her, Fairclough was getting closer to the irreversible effects of that toxin Jonas had pumped him full of.
I’d better get moving, she thought.
Annja stepped gingerly down the corridor and then saw the turn ahead of her to the right. She knelt at the corner and stuck her head out just enough to get a glimpse of what would be waiting.
Instinct caused her to jerk back as another dart zipped past where her head had been a second before.
More darts?
Annja waited and then stuck the sword back around first. This time, nothing shot out of the far wall.
So it had been only one?
Annja took a chance and stepped around the corner.
And felt nothing pierce her skin.
She exhaled and wiped the sweat from her brow. The corridor was dimmer than the one she’d just left. That made her suspicious.
If she couldn’t see too far ahead, there was no telling what might be waiting farther along the corridor.
And she had no doubt there’d be more danger.
Annja kept her steps light, ready to either jump out of the way or drop to the floor if she thought she needed to.
But as the corridor continued, she started to think that this might simply be a passage to lead her to
Annja looked beyond the chasm. Was there a way to run and jump and avoid the darts when she hit the other rigged tiles?
She could keep the sword up in front of her, of course, but would the blade be enough to deflect the darts? And if one of them hit her, did it have a toxin on it? Or were they simply darts with sharp points?
Too many variables, she decided. Too many unknowns that she couldn’t risk without fear of losing her life.
But what choice did she have?
There was nothing on the walls that surrounded her except a series of holes where she assumed darts would fire out of. No hints about how to get across, no clues as to how to solve this puzzle.
Annja sighed. She wished she could have a few words with Fairclough. Just to get a hint of how he had imagined this maze.
There didn’t seem to be an rhyme or reason to it. Each room she’d been in so far hadn’t behaved the way she’d imagined it would. The table room had held a hidden switch that then plunged her into a pool with a shark in it, followed by a long tunnel swim that left her nearly dead.
And now this.
She shook her head.
What am I missing?
Still kneeling at the edge of the pit, Annja slashed the air with her sword again. The gray light illuminated the tips of the punji sticks. But something seemed strange.
Annja looked again. And then she checked above the chasm.
There.
She stabbed up into the roof directly above the chasm and felt the blade pass seemingly right into the stone ceiling.
Except it wasn’t stone.
It was a painted canvas designed to look like the rest of the ceiling. Annja’s blade cut a swath through it and it dropped down to her. She tested its strength. Would it be strong enough to take her weight?
It was risky.
Annja pulled harder and felt some more of the material rip away from the ceiling. No, it wouldn’t hold her.
No way.
But as she pulled the material she saw something white drop down.
A rope.
Annja smiled. So, Fairclough had given her a way out. But even if intruders figured out the ceiling was a painted canvas, how would they have been able to get to the rope? Annja had the sword, luckily.
But other people?
She shook her head and grabbed the rope. When she put her full body weight on it, it held, and Annja swung across the divide easily.
She still had to be careful when she touched down on the lip of the divide on the other side. And as it was, she had to jump in order to land neatly on one of the rectangular stones.
But she did, aware that a line of sweat had broken out along her hairline.
Annja had little doubt that there’d be even more demanding tasks ahead of her.
She checked her watch before setting off down the corridor again. Twenty minutes had passed. The increments seemed small, but they added up. And somewhere far above her, Fairclough was getting closer to the irreversible effects of that toxin Jonas had pumped him full of.
I’d better get moving, she thought.
Annja stepped gingerly down the corridor and then saw the turn ahead of her to the right. She knelt at the corner and stuck her head out just enough to get a glimpse of what would be waiting.
Instinct caused her to jerk back as another dart zipped past where her head had been a second before.
More darts?
Annja waited and then stuck the sword back around first. This time, nothing shot out of the far wall.
So it had been only one?
Annja took a chance and stepped around the corner.
And felt nothing pierce her skin.
She exhaled and wiped the sweat from her brow. The corridor was dimmer than the one she’d just left. That made her suspicious.
If she couldn’t see too far ahead, there was no telling what might be waiting farther along the corridor.
And she had no doubt there’d be more danger.
Annja kept her steps light, ready to either jump out of the way or drop to the floor if she thought she needed to.
But as the corridor continued, she started to think that this might simply be a passage to lead her to
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