Tales of the Red Panda: Pyramid of Peril (13 page)

“Tell me you packed something that goes
boom
,” she demanded.

“I packed you,” he offered.

“Oh!” she said, smiling in spite of impending doom. “I like that.”

“If we could return to the subject at hand,” the Stranger prompted genially from the floor, where he was nearly ready to begin treading water.

“Two flash grenades,” he said. “That’s about all that might help, and they
did
just get wet.”

“They’re waterproof though, right?”
she asked, taking his offering and adding it to her own distressingly small arsenal.

“Well, in theory,” he said.

“Swell,” she grinned, fixing the charges to each other with wire stripped from one of her belt pouches. She hung the whole mess from one of the tiny cracks she had found between the stones. “You’d better get back,” she said. “I got a flare delay for a timer, which means I have about two seconds between striking and kablooey.”

“You’re going to dive for cover?”
he asked.

“Sure,” she nodded as he crawled around the wall to get clear. “It isn’t gonna be much of a boom. That’s both the good news and the bad news. Everybody get ready… now!”

An instant later there was a small roar and a blinding flash, and some small crumbling noises which passed for encouragement. The Red Panda hurried back to the blast site and began pounding on the loose rocks with his fists. She swam over to him, gasping at the sudden chill after days of heat and clawed at the bricks with gloved hands. At first, not much seemed to happen, and then all at once there was a crash as bricks and dry, broken mortar began falling backwards into some unseen open space beyond. They fought for several minutes more without succeeding in making the hole any bigger, and at last were forced to concede to the solid construction of the wall.

“It isn’t large enough to get through,” the Stranger said, swimming now, and near the ceiling as they all were.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be,” the Red Panda said hopefully. “Maybe this room isn’t supposed to stay flooded. If the trap is meant to reset after we drown.”

“You’re a barrel of laughs, you know that?” the Flying Squirrel a
sked, her own flashlight sputtering out in the deluge.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’m pretty sure that you know what I mean.”

The water was higher now, and it began to flood over the broken space in the wall, the strain of the rushing water taking still more bricks with it making the hole a little wider, a little deeper. But would it be enough? There was more cracking of mortar, more crashing of bricks into the space beyond. The Red Panda struggled to get enough purchase on the opening to add any force to the equation, holding on with his left and kicking furiously with his feet, but he couldn’t tell if he was making any difference and as the water continued to rise, conserving oxygen became more important. Falconi seemed to be tiring and the glowing orb he had created dimmed in intensity as it fell beneath the rising tide, but thankfully it did not vanish altogether leaving them in total darkness.

The opening they had created was just enough to stem the flood of water before reaching the ceiling, but for ten long, cold minutes the three adventurers treaded water grimly, wondering how long they could hold out, and if there was a second act forthcoming.
With only the roaring of water in their ears, they kept their mouths turned desperately toward the ceiling, gasping at what little air remained.

All at once, when they were certain they could take no more, the sound in their ears changed. It grew louder and
grew in urgency, and they could feel the brackish water begin to flow around their legs, faster and faster. The water was dropping, and quickly, carrying the three of them in a long, slow circle as some unseen drain in the floor opened. It took less than a minute, and as they felt the solid floor beneath their feet, they knew that they were not falling away with the flood into some unseen, unimaginable abyss. It was then that the Red Panda began to laugh. His ringing peals of unbounded joy were unexpected and infectious, and the Stranger could not help but join in.

The Flying Squirrel was too miserable to
laugh. She was chilled to the bone and soaking wet through her Squirrel Suit. She thought ruefully of the closet full of specialized costumes hanging in her change room in their underground lair many miles away. Insulated suits for winter. Special suits for diving. Anything other than the lightweight summer models she had packed for a trip to the Sahara. She clasped her hands together as she rose to her feet, her hands shaking visibly however much she tried to stop them. She flipped her hair back out of her face as the stones blocking both doors rolled away and they beat a hasty retreat before they could trip the deluge again.

“Are you all right?” the Red Panda asked
as he caught her eye. He couldn’t tell if it was just the light from the Stranger’s orb or if her lips were turning blue.

“Me? Oh, I’m swell,” she said. “I’m in the desert, soaked to the skin and I’m freezing cold. What’s not to like?”

“Good girl,” he said, giving her a chuck on the shoulder.

“Yes
, Boss,” she said, rolling her eyes just a little.

The chamber they stood in was broad and open with enormous statues acting as pillars, each depicting a god with what appeared to be the head of a cobra, with its enormous hood spread wide as if to strike.

“Who’s that supposed to be?” Kit asked, still shivering as they checked their gear
. “Is that Anubis?”

“No, Anubis had a jackal’s head,”
the Red Panda said, pulling sodden equipment from his pockets. “Could be Geb, he was sometimes depicted with a snake head. Not usually a cobra, though.”

“I thought you knew all about this stuff,” Kit said, surprised.

He shrugged. “I know a little,” he said modestly, “but this pyramid is from a vastly different era. The Pantheon of Egypt evolved a great deal over thousands of years. Even major players like Anubis. When this was built, he was the God of the Underworld and King of the Dead. Then he was supplanted by the Osiris myths, and relegated to a relatively minor function in the process of judging the dead. He mostly showed the newly dead in to an audience with Osiris.”

“Oh, Anubis, ouch,” Kit smiled
.

“This terrible fellow is quite unknown to me. Could be an early variation of a god we know, or a minor deity who faded from mythology
.” He looked around in amazement. “Just think about where we are,” he said quietly. “It’s really quite incredible.”

“You love your job, don’t you?” Kit said shaking her head a little.

“I really do,” he said with a smile.

“I fear that we have little time for wonder,” Falconi said, rising to his feet. “How are we?”

The Red Panda took inventory of the small pile of gear that he was leaving behind. “Well, we used everything we had with any kind of concussive charge blowing the hole in the wall. We used all of our gas grenades on the jackals, of course. And the flashlights are finished. I admit I wasn’t really expecting to take a bath with my equipment. Some of it is a little the worse for wear.”

“Isn’t that the pouch you carry those breadcrumbs of yours in?”
the Squirrel asked.

“Ah,” he said
, “you noticed that. Yes. They’re more
water-resistant
than
give them a good, solid dunking
.”

She tried not to look worried. “Will we be able to find our way out again with just the ones you’ve already dropped? I guess it depends how much further we go, right?”

He looked uncomfortable. “Well, yes,” he said, “also that.”

“The detector was also ruined, wasn’t it?” Falconi asked.

“Well, yes,” the Red Panda replied sheepishly.

Kit Baxter felt frightened for the first time in longer than she could remember. “Oh boy,” was all that she said.

Both men tried to think of something comforting to say that she wouldn’t immediately see through, and came up empty. They stood in silence for a moment.

“I’m all right,” she said at last.

The light from the orb flickered and faded slightly.

“Except stop doing that,” Kit said seriously.

“Is maintaining that light taxing, Max?” the Red Panda asked.

“It shouldn’t be,” the Stranger said, a little frustrated
, “but it is. I keep… I don’t quite know how to express it… I keep emptying the tank before it gets full. Makes it difficult to maintain even the simplest of energy fields.”

“Well, let’s do something about that,” he said, reaching for a torch on one of the pillars.

“Red Panda, wait!” the Flying Squirrel said. He froze, obligingly.

“Let’s just say that you were an ancient Egyptian deathtrap designer,” she said
, “and you’re wondering what to put in after your water-pit trap. Anyone who somehow lived would be wet, they’d be cold, and they’d have
no light
.”

He paused. “You think the torch is a trap?”

“I think the torch is a trap,” she agreed.

He looked at it quickly. “I think the torch is a torch,” he said
, “but could be pressure sensitive, I suppose.”

“Just don’t touch it, okay?”
she asked. “I really don’t want this room to fill up with snakes or something.”

He looked around and saw several more torches on pillars further away from the water trap. “Are they all traps?”
he asked. “Can I grab a pair from over there?”

“Yes, fine,” she agreed, though she held her breath while he did so.

He held the torches in his hands and looked at her. He waited a moment, listening, and then smiled. Nothing. A moment later, Max had lit the torches, extinguished his magic orb and they were prepared for the next leg of their journey.

As they
turned toward the winding staircase that led out of the chamber, the Red Panda looked back at the first torch, a bit wistfully.

“Well
, now I’ll never know,” he said.

“Tell you what,” she said
, “if we live, I’ll let you spring the trap on the way back out.”

He beamed. “That’s tough but fair,” he said.

“We must make haste,” the Stranger said. “As we near the Eye of Anubis, I can feel its power grow. I no longer need to search for it, it calls to me.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said brightly.

“Good and bad,” Falconi was grave. “If it calls to me, then Thatcher and Pavli will be able to sense it as well, even if they are less in tune with the frequencies involved. They may have divided their forces at the entrance, and it is very possible that all four paths lead to the Eye eventually. They may, in fact, be ahead of us.”

“Fenwick
!”

The cry came from behind them and rang over the stone walls like thunder. They turned back and saw two men, carrying lights, standing in the chamber they had just left.
The speaker was unmistakeably El-Nemr.

“Oh, not this hockey puck again,” Kit sighed.

“Now, now,” the Red Panda said, “perhaps he’s learned his lesson.”

El-Nemr quickly pulled a revolver from his coat and fired two shots in their direction. They were rushed and fell to no effect, but his intent was clear.

“Or not,” the Red Panda
shrugged.

“Three, two, one,” Kit said as
the stone door closed sealing the men in the water trap.

“I wonder if there’s any water left in th
at thing?” she asked.

An instant later they could clearly hear the terrified screaming, muffled though it was by tons of stone.

“Yep,” she said, “I guess there was.”

They turned to the stairs once again and climbed into the darkness above.

At the top of the stairs, the passageway narrowed still more. The walls on either side of them were only about ten feet high, but above them was open space and what looked like a great deal of it, though the light from their torches would not penetrate far enough to tell precisely. The walls were smooth and angled toward each other slightly as they neared the top, no doubt to make it nearly impossible to climb over them. The entire length of the passageway was covered with hieroglyphs, but after a cursory glance near the entrance to this new environment to look for obvious warnings, the Red Panda had ignored them in favour of making speed.

They travelled in silence for a time, knowing they were getting close but equally sure that their approach would not go unchallenged by the long-dead builders of this place
. At last the Red Panda froze and held up his hand to stop his companions from speaking. They listened together and could hear voices talking excitedly… arguing perhaps, though the words were indistinct. He peered ahead, but turned back to see what the others thought, as the voices did not seem to be coming from ahead of them. The Flying Squirrel pointed straight up to the space above them and the Red Panda could see at once that she was right. The angry voices were carrying over from a nearby passage that shared the same ceiling somewhere far above. Kit pointed to herself and then up toward the ceiling, suggesting silently that she should climb the walls to take a look, but he shook his head and pointed ahead.

They moved quickly and with new urgency, but still in silence. Twenty feet further down the passage they came to an opening to the right.
The Red Panda turned to Max, who after a moment’s concentration pointed straight ahead. There were quite suddenly voices that seemed to come from the passage to the right, different voices, but arguing once again, and that seemed to settle everyone’s opinion to avoid the turn. Soon there was an option to the left, and another to the right. While the Stranger considered the options, the Flying Squirrel crept on ahead a dozen feet, returning quickly.

“Looks like this road dead-ends up ahead,” she said
, “though there might be another door to the left before it does.”

“Oh
, spectacular,” the Red Panda said quietly, “this is a labyrinth.”

“It’s this way,” the Stranger said, pointing to the right.

“You’re sure?” Kit asked.

“Quite certain,” Falconi replied, sounding it. “The Eye of Anubis seems quite keen on the idea of leaving this place. It is calling most distinctly now.”

The Red Panda tried very hard not to sound incredulous. “Does this
calling
include providing directions through a maze?” he asked.

“It does,” came the reply.

“That suggests an intelligence at play,” the Red Panda said.

“It does,” Falconi agreed. “If
that seems difficult to believe, try and remember where we are and what we are doing, not to mention that we have done at least six impossible things before breakfast.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” the Red Panda protested. “I was going to remind you that if there is an intelligence, it could be lying. It could even be Pavli or
Thatcher trying to throw us off.”

Falconi considered this for a moment. “No,” he said simply
, with a shake of his head.

The Red Panda and the Flying Squirrel exchanged a look. “Good enough,” he said.

“If you’ve gotta trust somebody, it may as well be an ancient magic amulet,” she shrugged.

“It’s this way,” Max said with a smile.

Even with the Stranger guiding them, moving quickly and barely slowing down to determine their course, they were still in the maze nearly an hour later, and Kit was beginning to lose her confidence. They heard voices from time to time, and they always seemed to be engaged in a furious argument in a language the Flying Squirrel did not understand, but they never directly crossed paths with anyone. Every length of passageway looked so similar, she forced herself not to consider them at all, which was the only way to convince herself that they were not going over the same ground again and again. That must be exactly what was setting the angry voices they could hear to arguing. Not just the fear that they would never get to their destination, but their increasing concern that they would never be able to find their way out. Kit Baxter found it impossible not to sympathise.

Through it all, they maintained their silence. It was clear that there were a number of small groups scattered throughout the labyrinth, but logic suggested
all of them were members of Pavli’s troops, which meant that they were all enemies. If their foes were fighting amongst themselves, so much the better. Quickly and quietly seemed like the best policy.

At last they rounded a corner at top speed and came instantly to a halt. The passage ahead was long and
straight, perhaps a hundred yards without a single twist, turn or alternate exit. And from the vast doorway at the end of the passageway there was an unearthly glow that bathed the long, stone hallway in its radiance. The light itself was more than simple illumination, there was something almost living about it. It seemed to pulse, just slightly, and there was something that made it hard to look away. Each member of the trio was elated to be so near to their goal, even if there was still the return journey to be made. If they were the first, and could slip out before the others found this passage…

It was a moment before the Red Panda spotted them
, two dark shapes moving cautiously along the passageway ahead of them, clinging to the walls toward the goal. The shapes were nearly halfway down the length of the passage already, and he signalled to Kit who had not yet discerned the shadows for what they were.

They set their torches on the ground carefully and immediately picked up their pace, running as quickly as they could while still being totally silent. They needed to close the distance and do it fast before the pair of henchmen in front of them began to shout their discovery to the rest of their fellows, still lost in the maze. Falconi hurried behind, but he understood the need for silence as well as they did, and he did his part to do nothing to betray the coming attack.

The Red Panda was no more than ten feet from striking distance when a loud cry was heard from behind. They stopped in their tracks, but there was nowhere to hide when the two members of the late El-Nemr’s guard turned around and immediately drew their pistols.

“Rats,” the Red Panda said. There was a small coo from beside him.

“More rough talk,” the Flying Squirrel said, grinning even as she raised her hands, “and we just don’t have the time.”

One of the gunmen shouted something that neither of the heroes understood.

“Do you speak that language?” the Flying Squirrel asked.

“I think he was telling you to behave yourself,” the Red Panda smiled
, “but it loses something in the translation.”

The man did a little more shouting and gestured with his pistol for
them to raise their hands higher. They obliged.

“Which one do you want?”
the Red Panda asked pleasantly.

“I’ll take the fat one,” she smiled
. “He could use the exercise. Is Max closing the distance to us like a good boy?”

The man with the pistol said something quite emphatic and the Red Panda thought it best to humor him slightly,
so he nodded just a little.

“That is far enough, Falconi,” Pavli’s voice called out from the far end of the passage. “A shame for you to come so close, only to lose the race here.” Other voices could be heard now, closing the distance, honing in on their master’s voice.

The second man guarding the masked heroes, the one Kit had declared to be the “fat one” now called out to his master, speaking rapidly and excitedly. He and his partner had been the first in the passageway and no doubt he was keen to keep the credit for the discovery. He called out again and began walking toward the ambient glow from the end of the hall. He took only three or four more steps but in so doing, the Red Panda noted, he had reached the precise middle of the passageway, just as great a distance to continue on as to turn back. It would have been the perfect place to put a –

The Red Panda’s train of thought was cut off by a cry of alarm from a member of Pavli’s group. It had been a simple thing, just the sound of stone grinding against stone, and if they had not all spent hours in an underground madhouse that tried to destroy them at every turn, they might not have noticed it for another moment
. But the truth could not be avoided. Along the entire length of the passageway, the walls were closing in!