Uncharted: The Fourth Labyrinth (26 page)

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Authors: Christopher Golden

BOOK: Uncharted: The Fourth Labyrinth
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“We should get out of here,” he said.

Sully kept searching. In the far corner of the wine cellar, a long, jagged crack—several inches across at its widest—had opened in the ceiling. Drake followed the beam, walking over for a closer look. He didn’t like it at all.

“Do you hear that?” Sully asked.

They all paused to listen. Jada had given up her search behind the cask and now stood at rapt attention. At first, Drake couldn’t make out any particular sound. In the cellar of the abandoned fortress, all noise seemed so far away, and he expected the keening of the wind or some muffled cry or perhaps footfalls in the hallway. Then he realized that the sound Sully had heard existed on a different level, a low groaning that seemed to come almost from inside his own skull.

No. It’s not in your head. It’s coming up through you
. And it was. The groaning, grinding noise traveled up his legs from the floor, his bones vibrating almost imperceptibly.

He stared at his feet, anxiety rising, but then he noticed something that distracted him from his alarm. The wine casks in the alcove right behind him had long since given up their contents, and a small river of wine must have flowed across the floor, leaving a dark bloody stain on the stone when it dried up. Drake followed the zigzag course of the trickling wine stain with his gaze and realized it ended against the back wall.

“Sully, give me your flashlight,” he said.

“Nate, we’ve gotta go,” Sully said.

“Just for a second.”

Sully complied, and Drake used the beam of the flashlight to follow the dry river of wine to the wall. The floor had been slightly canted at the time the casks gave way. But there was no large stain near the wall to indicate the wine had pooled there, which made no sense at all.

Drake dropped to his knees, following the wine with the light, and then he saw where the wine had gone. Along the seam where wall met floor, though the wine cellar was mostly carved out of the rock, a split had occurred at the juncture of floor and wall. The spilled wine had not puddled there because it had poured into that crack and down into the hill below.

“Look at this,” Drake said.

“Nate,” Jada said worriedly, studying the cracks Sully had found in the ceiling.

“Just for a second,” Drake insisted. “The wine went somewhere. I know it could just be a fissure, that it doesn’t necessarily mean Luka was right about the labyrinth being here, but—”

“Of course he was right,” Jada said. “I mean, fathers think they’re right about everything, but when it came to his research, mine didn’t like to guess. He would hypothesize, sure, but if we found that reference in the journal, it’s safe to assume there were other clues and bits of evidence he gathered that we don’t know about. Maybe there’s even stuff in the journal but we just don’t know how to interpret it.”

Sully went rigid. A second later, Drake felt the tremor that had frightened him.

“Know what?” Drake said. “If there’s a way down there, it isn’t from this room. I vote we—”

The crack was so loud that it shut him up. The whole room began to rumble, and that was enough for Drake.

“Go!” he shouted, shoving Jada ahead of him.

Drake led the way with Sully’s flashlight. Jada twisted as she ran, shining the flashlight above them, and Drake couldn’t keep himself from glancing up to see the long cracks racing across the ceiling, opening wide spaces between the rows of stones that had been laid there centuries ago.

The noise grew so loud that it drowned out his thoughts, and just as he was about to shout for Sully to run faster, the roof of the wine cellar started to cave in. A piece of stone hit his shoulder, and again he shoved Jada, but harder this time. She careened into Sully, and the two of them fell through the open door, sprawling on the floor in the corridor, near the bottom of the stairs.

Drake swore as he saw the wooden door frame buckling further as the weight of the ruin above them shifted and the frame began to give way.

He dived through the opening just as the frame splintered and a huge slab of rock crashed down, barely missing his legs. The three of them scrambled backward, rising unsteadily, the corridor pitching around them. The slab seemed for a moment as if it would block the wine cellar from view, but then it tilted away from them, and they watched in astonishment as it fell into a hole where the floor of the wine cellar had been.

An entire section of the fortress above collapsed into the room and crashed through the floor, smashing it open in two places, rubble sliding down to half fill the gaping openness of the broad corridor beneath them.

Rubble shifted, and they coughed, covering their mouths and noses until the dust had begun to settle.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sully murmured, shining his flashlight across the holes in the shattered floor.

“We almost died,” Jada said, unsteady on her feet.

“Yeah,” Drake said. “On the other hand—”

Jada shone her light into the rubble and the ancient corridor below them. “Yeah. The labyrinth of Thera.”

“It better be,” Sully said. “Or we’ve done all this damage for nothing.”

“All we did was open a door,” Drake reasoned.

“Says Captain Dropkick,” Sully rasped.

“Guys, can we just find out if this is the labyrinth, please?” Jada asked.

Sully put an arm around her. “Come on, kid. You know we entertain you. It’s like going on a Mediterranean adventure with a couple of vaudeville stars.”

“Or the bickering brothers I never had,” Jada mused.

Drake crouched at the edge of the pit that had opened where the wine cellar had been moments before. Dust still lingered, a low cloud misting above the rubble. The huge piece of masonry that had been above the door made a sort of ramp down into the more treacherous wreckage, but the fortress had ceased its trembling. The rubble shifted a little, bits of rock sliding down to find a new resting place.

“Jada, can I ask you a question?” he said.

“Of course.”

Drake turned from the rubble and arched a mischievous brow. “Are you old enough to even know what vaudeville is?”

“Hey. Don’t knock vaudeville,” Sully protested.

“I’m not. I’m saying you’re old.”

Sully sat down beside him and slid his legs over the shattered edge of the floor. “I’m not old. I’m seasoned. And for your information, I wasn’t alive in the vaudeville era. I’ve just seen a lot of old movies.”

Drake smiled but said nothing more. He couldn’t really tease Sully about old movies because he loved them, too.

“Are we really doing this?” Jada asked.

For a second, Drake thought she was still talking about their bickering. Then he saw that she’d come up to stand behind him and Sully and was staring down into the pit. So much of the roof had come down that in places they could see the blue Aegean sky. But Drake was much less interested in what had been opened above than he was in what had been revealed below.

Sully pushed off the edge of the floor.

“Damn it, Uncle Vic, be careful!” Jada said.

Drake figured all three of them were holding their breath, but the huge slab of stone did not shift as Sully slid down it. When he reached the rubble, he waited as Drake slid down after him. The stone was warm under Drake’s steadying hands. At the bottom, he glanced up at Jada.

“This is really stupid,” she said as she sat down on the shattered edge of stone that had once been the wine cellar’s threshold.

Drake and Sully grinned at each other.

“We’ve never let that stop us before,” Drake said.

Jada slid the length of the slab, and Drake caught her at the bottom. The three of them exchanged weighted glances, none of them wanting to admit just how dangerous their next step would be. Under their feet was hundreds of tons of stone both from the part of the fortress that had given way and from the buckled floor of the wine cellar. But the opening at the far end of the debris called to them. There were secrets there, and that was what they’d come for. None of them would have turned back now.

They picked their way carefully across the rubble. Several times, the stone shifted under Drake’s feet, and he nearly toppled over before Sully or Jada grabbed him. He did the same for them, and soon they were sliding down a slope of debris, loose stone cascading around and beneath them.

Drake pitched forward and jumped the last few feet down into the ancient corridor below. As Jada and Sully followed suit, he glanced up into the ruin that once had been the wine cellar, peered through the openings above into the blue sky, and wondered how difficult it was going to be to climb back up the rock pile with it all giving way beneath them. He thought it might be like Sisyphus trying to roll his stone uphill. He figured they had four or five hours before the taxi driver returned. He hoped that would be enough time to figure a way out of the ruins.

“All set?” Sully asked.

Jada took a deep breath, tested her flashlight, and shone it down the throat of the dark corridor ahead. “Set.”

Drake would have been happier if he’d had a flashlight, too. But the ones Sully and Jada were carrying provided plenty of illumination. He had a lighter with him in case he needed to make a torch in an emergency.

“Follow the yellow brick road,” Drake said softly, his words slipping down the corridor and coming back in a whispery echo.

The stones rustled behind them, settling further. It occurred to him that as unstable as it was, the rest of the fortress might collapse while they were underground, trapping them. He tried to push the thought away, but it lingered in the back of his head, haunting him.

The corridor led them north about a hundred paces, sloping downward the whole way, and then turned west, where it ended abruptly in a steep set of stairs. Small cups had been carved into the stone at intervals. Drake rubbed the inside of the bowl and then licked his finger. His nose wrinkled with distaste.

“Lamp oil,” he said. “Nothing left, but these were lights.”

As they descended the stairs, Jada and Sully used their beams to illuminate the walls and ceiling, searching for any art or ornament and finding nothing. They had found some kind of subterranean complex built into the hill beneath the Akrotiri fortress but no indication they were in a labyrinth.

That did not come until they were deeper.

There were flowers over the door. Not actual flowers but an engraving in the stone depicting a small array of large-petaled blossoms. Sully kept his light on the engraving, and they all studied the flowers for several long seconds.

“What are they?” Drake asked.

Sully grunted. “I look like a florist?”

They both looked at Jada.

“What?” she said, shrugging. “Because I’m a girl I’m supposed to know botany? I have no idea what they’re supposed to be, aside from flowers.”

Drake tried to play off their presumption, ready to make some excuse, but Jada gave him a look that warned him not to try and then went through the arched doorway.

“What?” Sully said. “Girls like flowers.”

Drake shook his head. “You’re such a Neanderthal.”

“And you’re what, Mr. Sensitive?”

“Come on!” Jada snapped at them.

Their bickering was really starting to get to her, which amused Drake no end. It was also, he hoped, distracting her from her grief and from the danger they were in and from the burden of guilt they all felt for Ian Welch’s abduction and possible murder. They were all on edge, aware that they had to at least accept the possibility that the hooded men who had been waiting for them in the labyrinth of Sobek might be lurking down here already.

“She loves us,” Drake whispered to Sully.

Sully nodded sagely. “How could she not?”

The corridor jagged to the left, then to the right, and in a dozen steps they came to a junction with three possible avenues ahead.

“Looks like we’re in the right place,” Drake said.

Jada stared at the three doorways, shaking her head. “This isn’t going to work. We need rope—something better than bread crumbs to leave a trail. Otherwise we could be down here forever. We could get so lost, we might die before we found our way out.”

Drake shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“How do you figure?” Sully asked.

Drake lifted his shirt and tugged a cloth packet from his waistband. He unwrapped the cloth napkin he had taken from a room service tray left in the hotel corridor to reveal Luka Hzujak’s journal and maps, folded tightly and all tied together with shoelaces he’d purchased in the small store in the lobby.

“I didn’t think we should leave this in the room for sneaky ninja guys or Henriksen’s thugs to find if they searched it. Also, y’ know, maps.”

Sully frowned. “What the hell good will those do us? None of them are for this place. No one’s been here in forever.”

“He’s right,” Jada said. “My father was working with Maynard Cheney, studying labyrinths in general, including the design of what had already been uncovered at Crocodilopolis. His sketches in the journal refer to the maps in some places. It might not tell us every turn to take, but it could be the Rosetta Stone as far as figuring out the logic of this place.”

Sully shone his light on the journal while Drake flipped pages. Jada unfolded a map and then a second, finding what she wanted.

“Here,” she said, pointing to a junction in the labyrinth map that mirrored the one they were standing in. “It’s not the middle door. That’s going to double back into one of the other two. We’d be going in a circle.”

“If you’re right,” Sully told her.

Drake flipped another page, then went back three. “She’s right,” he said. “Luka has half a dozen variations on this, and only one of them has the middle door being the right one.”

“How do we know this isn’t one of those instances?” Sully asked.

“I don’t have all the answers,” Drake replied. “And neither did Luka. If it’s gotta be trial and error, then that’s what it’ll be.”

Sully nodded. “Okay.” He went over to the corner of the right-hand door, where the stone seemed worn by time, and kicked at the rough edge of the frame, knocking several chunks of rock to the floor.

“Just in case,” he said, holding up the biggest shard of stone. “Which way?”

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