Kismet paused in the center of the cave and contemplated the path ahead. When Leeds approached to question him, he pointed to three separate holes in the limestone walls, passageways which each led in a different direction. “Fontaneda didn’t mention anything about this.”
“I defer to your judgment,” replied the occultist casually.
A surge of quiet terror seized Annie. If they made a wrong turn now, pushing deeper into the bowels of the earth, they might wander forever, never reaching their goal, never escaping to see the light of day.
A closer inspection revealed that the right-hand passage was merely a niche in the wall, reducing their choices by one. Kismet chose to explore the center passage, which seemed to descend slightly. He had only taken a few steps into the shallows when he called an abrupt halt. “It's another trap.”
The trip wire was hidden in debris that conspicuously littered the floor. The device, another spike trap like the first, was concealed in a depression in the wall. Only Kismet's cautious pace had prevented him from being skewered.
“Excellent,” crooned Leeds. His dark clothes were a stark contrast with the brilliant white of the cavern, and when he spoke, it was if the words were emanating from a hole in the fabric of the universe. “We're on the right path. The Spaniard would not have bothered to defend a false passage.”
“I’m going to trigger it,” Kismet announced. “Stand back.”
He pitched a head-sized rock onto the trip wire. There was a twang, followed by a snap and a blur of motion as the deadly spikes swung out of the wall across their path. An involuntary shriek tore from Annie’s chest.
Kismet extended a palm, and to Annie’s complete surprise, Leeds’ man handed over the kukri, allowing Kismet to clear the passage. She was even more shocked when, after sliding the knife blade into his belt, Kismet reached out to her.
“Come on,” he said, as if they were the only two people there. He handed her his flask. She accepted it and took a gulp, grimacing as the bourbon went down. Strangely, she did feel a little better.
He returned the container to his pocket and then gave her a hug. “Stick with me. We’ll get through this.”
Leeds made no move to interfere, but watched them with a bemused expression. “How touching. But be careful about making promises you can’t keep Kismet.”
“Oh, I keep my promises, Leeds.”
“Keeping a promise requires power,” retorted the occultist. “You are in my power, and you live or die at my command. Your life, and your ability to keep you word is dependent upon your cooperation.”
Kismet just smiled, as if he knew something Leeds didn’t, and put his arm around Annie. As they passed the splintered remains of Fontaneda's spike trap, Kismet whispered in her ear. “I swear to you, we'll get out of this, somehow.”
A ways further on, Kismet spied another spiked barrier trap. After disarming it, they rounded a corner and came to an abrupt dead end; a massive wall of rough limestone blocked their way.
Leeds strode forward, his eyes now hungry and excited. “This is not possible. We are following the correct path, I am sure of it.”
Russell also advanced and began examining the edges of the wall with his flashlight. “This isn’t part of the cave. It’s a loose rock…like a boulder. See here along the edges…it isn't connected to the walls.” He shone his light overhead. “I think the tunnel continues. There might be room to crawl over at the top.”
Kismet pulled himself partway up the boulder. “It’s another of Fontaneda's traps. He must have rigged up a portion of the ceiling to collapse. This one was an accident waiting to happen. Who knows what triggered it? But if he set one rock to fall, we have to assume that he may have rigged the entire cave to collapse if his final sanctuary was violated.”
“A chance we shall have to take,” retorted Leeds. “Or rather, I think, that you will have to take.”
Kismet's eyes narrowed but he made no retort. Instead, he continued up the rock wall. Annie watched as he picked out handholds and minute cracks in which to insinuate his fingers and toes. With each step, he left dark smudges on the white rock. The scattered chips of limestone debris, no doubt leftover from Fontaneda’s engineering project, had cut right through his socks and blood was oozing from dozens of scrapes and cuts on his feet. The injuries however didn’t seem to slow him down one bit. He pulled himself up high enough to inspect the top of the barrier then asked Russell to pass him up a flashlight.
“There must be an opening to the outside. I can feel the air moving. God, what a stench.”
Major Russell, with a loop of climbing rope draped around his neck like a bandolier, scaled the rock to join Kismet, and quickly rigged up a belaying line.
Annie was an adept rock climber, but as she watched the rest of the group ascend, she was filled with an uncharacteristic panic. They were all squeezing into the narrow gap atop the rock, directly beneath a ceiling that had been rigged to collapse with the slightest disturbance.
“No.” She shook her head when her turn came. “I can’t.”
“There’s only one way I’m leaving you behind, Miss Crane,” Leeds said, his soft tone making the threat all the more ominous. “And I don’t think Kismet or your father would approve of that solution.
Higgins decisively took the fixed rope and secured it around her midsection. “Pull her up,” he called to the men already atop the rock.
The ascent was brief, only a few seconds, but it stretched out like an eternity of torment, until at last, she found herself once more in Kismet’s embrace. He freed her from the rope and then guided her through the narrow crawlspace and helped her down the other side.
An acrid odor, an animal smell, drifted in the light breeze that wafted through the tunnel, but Annie saw no evidence of anything living in the cave, nor any sign of an exit leading to the outside. Nevertheless, the gentle movement of air gave her hope. Maybe there was another way out, just around the corner…an end to this ungodly nightmare.
Kismet took the lead again, now watchful not only of the floor, which was deliberately littered with chips of limestone, but also the ceiling overhead. Thirty yards further along, he pointed up to an unnatural pattern of cracks outlining a ten foot long section of rock.
“It's Fontaneda’s doing,” he announced. “A trap, but I can't figure out what the trigger is. Probably a pressure plate on the floor.”
Leeds was becoming impatient. “We'll have to trigger it and crawl over as before.”
“That's insane. If we drop that rock, there's no telling what might happen. The crash could cave in the whole tunnel or open a crack to the lake and flood us out. We should go back.”
Kismet’s cautionary assessment set Annie’s heart racing again, but seemed to have no effect at all on the occultist. “Find a way, Kismet. Or I'll send Miss Crane ahead in your place.”
“No, damn it,” rasped Higgins, pushing through to the front of the group. “I’ll do it.”
The unexpected declaration shook Annie out of her despair. “Dad, no!”
Her father was already striding purposefully toward the area beneath the snare. Kismet stepped in front of him. “Don't be stupid, Al. I don’t know what’s going on in your head any more, but I know you care about Annie. It won’t do her any good if you get yourself killed.”
Higgins stared back at Kismet, his expression pained and confused, as if he could no longer remember the reason for the choices he had made. He turned, looking meaningfully back at his daughter.
“Maybe it will,” he whispered.
He sprang at Kismet, catching him in a low tackle and thrusting him against the tunnel wall. Kismet rebounded and sprawled face first into the impact zone as Higgins dashed past him, running all out as if pursued by a predator.