Seven Ancient Wonders - Matthew Reilly [10]
At the top of the cavern, it was a single thick crevice, but it widened toward the base, where it forked into two smaller scars.
A trickling waterfall dribbled down its length, from some unknown source high up inside the mountain.
To cross the Scar on any of the four ledges meant either tiptoeing across a foot-wide mini-ledge or leaping a small void . . . in both cases in front of wall-holes or other shadowy recesses.
The trickling waterfall that rolled down the Scar fed a wide lake at the base of the rockface—a lake that now separated West and his team from the European force, a lake that was home to about sixty Nile crocodiles, all variously sleeping, sloshing or crawling over each other.
And at the very top of the colossal structure: a small stone doorway that led to this mine’s fabled treasure:
The head of an ancient wonder.
Peering over the rim of the manhole, West gazed at the Europeans and their half-finished crane.
As he watched, dozens of men hauled more pieces of the giant crane into the cavern, handing them to engineers who then supervised the attachment of the pieces to the growing machine.
In the midst of this activity, West spied the leader of the European expedition, the Jesuit, del Piero, standing perfectly erect, his hands clasped behind his back. At 68, del Piero had thinning slicked-down black hair, ghost-like grey eyes, deep creases on his face, and the severe expression of a man who had spent his life frowning at people.
But it was the tiny figure standing next to del Piero who seized West’s attention.
A small boy.
With black hair and even blacker eyes.
West’s eyes widened. He had seen this boy before. Ten years ago . . .
The boy stood at del Piero’s side with his hands clasped behind his back, mimicking the imperious stance of the old Jesuit.
He seemed to be about Lily’s age.
No, West corrected himself, he was exactly Lily’s age.
West’s gaze shifted back to the crane.
It was a clever plan.
Once finished, the crane would lift the Europeans up over the first ledge and land them on the second.
Not only did this allow them to avoid about ten traps, it also enabled them to avoid the most dangerous trap of all in this cavern:
The Master Snare.
West knew about it from the Callimachus Text—which he suspected del Piero and the Europeans could have had a Vatican copy of. That said, they could have become aware of it from other ancient texts written about Imhotep V.
While the other Imhoteps had their own signature traps, Imhotep V had invented the Master Snare, a trap that was triggered in advance of the system’s innermost vault—thus making the final leg of the journey a matrix of trap-beating versus time. Or as Wizard liked to say, ‘Beating booby traps is one thing; beating them against the clock is another.’
That said, the Master Snare was not so crude as to destroy the entire trap system. Like most of Imhotep’s traps, it would reset itself to be used again.
No, in most cases the Master Snare left you in a do-or-die predicament: if you were good enough, you could take the treasure. If you weren’t, you would die.
The Callimachus Text stated that the trigger stone for the Master Snare of this system lay in the very centre of the first level, at the base of the ladder there.
Wizard appeared at West’s side, peered out from the manhole. ‘Mmm, a crane. With that, del Piero and his men will avoid triggering the Master Snare. It’ll give them more time up in the Holy of Holies. Very clever.’
‘No, it’s not clever,’ West said flatly. ‘It’s against the rules.’
‘The rules?’
‘Yes, the rules. This is all part of a contest that has been held for the last 4,000 years, between Egyptian architects and graverobbers. And this contest has an honour code—we attack, Imhotep V defends. But by skipping a major trigger stone, del Piero is cheating. He’s also showing his weakness.’
‘Which is?’
‘He doesn’t believe he can beat the Master Snare.’ West smiled. ‘But we can.’
West dropped back