Page 123 of The King of Koraha
A grinding, bone-chilling sound rolled overhead—the familiar and dreadful noise of stone being rubbed against stone. Shyla and Rendor glanced at each other before he shone the light up the stairs. There was now a roof cutting the two levels of steps into just one.
“The lock was booby-trapped,” she said as cold dread slid down to her stomach.
“Why didn’t Najib— Son of a sand demon tricked us.”
“Maybe he forgot.”
Rendor looked at her. “He’s not the type to forget.”
“Are the doors unlocked?”
Rendor pushed on them. They didn’t budge. He handed her the lantern and tried again with both hands, then he used his shoulder, straining against the iron. “And that would be a no.”
He mounted the stairs. When he reached the ceiling, he pressed his hands on it and tried to move it. He grunted and his muscles popped, but it was to no avail. “Do you have any ideas?” he asked.
“Sometimes there’s a latch just in case the trap is sprung by accident.” Shyla set the lantern down.
“What’s it look like?”
“It’ll blend in with the walls or floor. You have to press it or pull it. Look for a crack or an anomaly.” She inspected the doors, tapping her fingers on anything that looked out of place and hooking a fingernail under any tiny gaps. Keeping focused on her task, she ignored the clammy fear that clung to her that there wasn’t a latch.
Rendor slid his hands over the wall to her right. They worked in silence, exploring every centimeter of their prison. Shyla tried to keep her dire thoughts in check. Tried not to calculate how much air they had left. Tried not to recall that skeleton skewered by a sword in Tamburah’s vault. Booby traps were always installed with the intent to kill.
When they failed to find the latch, Shyla tried turning the key a different way. Perhaps there was a special sequence and Najib had forgotten to tell her. Twisting the key in the opposite direction, she produced another twang.
This time a section of the floor directly under the doors dropped down with a bang. It extended the entire length of the doors. Shyla knelt to peer underneath them. The gap didn’t go all the way to the other side of the door, which must be at least a meter thick. Rendor brought the light closer, but when she reached into the gap, he yanked her hand back.
“There could be a blade or the block could spring back into place,” he warned.
She shuddered at the image of crushed fingers. Rendor shone the lantern into the gap but there was nothing visible. If the release latch was inside, she might have to risk her fingers. Better than running out of air.
“What’s the point of the gap?” she asked Rendor. Then she wished with every fiber of her being that she had kept her mouth shut.
With fascinated horror, they stood and watched as water swelled up inside the gap and quickly spilled over.
Seventeen
The water welling from the gap underneath the iron doors spilled onto the floor. It raced across the small landing and lapped at the bottom step. Shyla and Rendor retreated, standing on the stairs.
And here she’d been worried about running out of breathable air. The room was only about two meters square with a three-meter-high ceiling. Now terror gripped her heart, digging into it with sharp claws as the threat became real. The water level rose with alarming speed. They climbed a few more steps.
“I thought it was odd that Najib never asked if we could find our way back,” Rendor said, hunching over so he didn’t hit his head. “He expects us to die here.”
Drowned.
The unfamiliar word swirled in her mind. And she was about to experience it firsthand if they didn’t escape. “How tight is the stone covering the roof?” she asked.
Rendor stepped higher and pushed against it with his back and shoulders. “It won’t budge.”
“We can yell for help. Maybe someone is nearby.”
He looked at her as if she was daft. “No one is nearby.”
Right. Those tunnels hadn’t been used in circuits. They needed another idea. Except it was difficult to think when the bottom four steps were now submerged under water. Difficult to breathe with fear wrapped around her throat.
“Notnearby,” Rendor said suddenly. “But you can reach someone who is forty kilometers away.”
“I can!” She’d forgotten. “Except who do I reach?” They needed the King to influence the water and unlock the trap, but she couldn’t connect to him. It had to be someone the King trusted. Najib was out—the traitor. A guard might work. Who else?
