Part 35 (1/2)

”But maybe if you find the bridge, you're not supposed to go forward.” She dragged Ken back to the edge of the chasm where they'd started. ”Look!”

Ken squinted and then barely saw what Annja was pointing at. A small crawl s.p.a.ce made to blend into the rock. He glanced back at Annja.

”I guess we go this way,” he said.

Annja nodded. ”I think so.”

35.

Annja led the way as the crawl s.p.a.ce opened down at a sharp angle. ”Hold my ankles,” she called back to Ken. ”It drops off farther ahead.”

”Don't get complacent, Annja,” Ken said. ”That's what has probably killed everyone else.”

That and the fact they weren't legitimate heirs to your family, Annja thought. But she kept her wits about her and moved slowly. Every few feet she would stop and close her eyes. Every time she felt a pull to keep going.

The crawl s.p.a.ce emptied out into a large room. Annja didn't step down onto the floor until she'd tested it both physically and using her instincts. Both proved sound, so she slid all the way out of the crawl s.p.a.ce and waited for Ken to join her.

He slid out and shook his head. ”I don't know how earthworms do it.”

Ahead of them a single door awaited. Annja frowned. ”Not much of a choice here, it would seem.”

Ken held her back. ”Let's exhaust every other possibility before we take the obvious choice.”

They spent the next twenty minutes going over every inch of the simple room. They both reached the same conclusion that the door was the only way to proceed, or as Annja reminded them, go backward.

Ken pulled the door open, and a strong updraft greeted them, extinguis.h.i.+ng both of their torches and plunging them into absolute darkness.

”Uh-oh,” Annja said.

Ken cleared his throat. ”Well, I don't suppose you have any matches, do you?”

”Eiji and his boys cleaned my pockets out before we came into the labyrinth. I don't have a sc.r.a.p to work with here,” she replied.

Ken dumped his torch. ”No sense carrying it along with us if we can't rely on it.”

Annja dropped hers, as well. ”I guess this is the real test, huh?”

”Yeah. The entire thing has been designed to whittle away at what we use and take for granted on a daily basis. Now we're deprived of the one thing that really makes our conscious mind work against us-our eyesight. If we're to continue on, it will have to be by using our other senses.”

”And instincts,” Annja said.

”Exactly.”

They both paused. Finally, Ken said, ”Did you still want to take point?”

Annja laughed and felt Ken brush against her. ”What are you doing?”

”Looking for a point of reference.”

”That was my b.u.t.t.”

”Seemed like a good enough point for me.” He chuckled. ”Actually, that was an accident. I was looking for the door frame, so at least I know which way we came in.” He paused. ”You, uh, didn't turn around when you came in, did you?”

”No.”

”Good, I'd hate to get started going in the wrong direction.”

”You wouldn't get far,” Annja said. ”You'd run into the walls of the room we came into from the crawl s.p.a.ce.”

”Good point.”

Annja felt him brush past her again. ”You got that reference point?”

”I think I'm ready. But we're going to crawl if that's all right with you.”

”Absolutely.” Annja got down on her hands and knees.

”Take my ankle,” Ken said. ”We'll do this the way they do in search-and-rescue situations.”

Annja grabbed for his ankle. ”Okay.”

”Go ahead.”

”I just did.”

Ken paused. ”Annja, hurry up and grab my ankle so we can get going.”

Annja squeezed harder. ”I have your ankle.”

”No,” Ken said. ”You don't.”

NEZUMA STOPPED just short of the door. just short of the door.

He could hear breathing on the side of it. Two distinct breathing patterns, he decided after another minute.

Guards?

Or meditating monks?