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CHAPTER SIX: MRS MAGYVER
She was lost. Sydney hated to admit it to herself, but she was almost positive she had taken a wrong turn at the last fork. For one thing, her notes and her passage no longer matched; for another, the cobwebs were less ragged and looked as if they hadn't been disturbed for a long time. She bit her lip and shone her light around, studying the passageway she found herself in. It looked the same as every other one she'd come through—bare, with nothing but stone and cobwebs to break the monotony. She wondered why Le Sorcier had made a maze of secret passageways inside his castle. She also wondered how many relics lay hidden in its puzzling twists and turns. If she kept going, would she find something just as awesome and horrifying as La Mort Rapide was supposed to be? The temptation to find the answer was strong, and only the knowledge that Morgan Lewis was ahead of her stopped her from finding out. Sydney turned to retrace her steps, feeling the corners of her mouth turn down in a scowl. She wondered how far she would have to backtrack. With the luck she'd been having on this hunt, it would probably cost her just enough time for Lewis to find La Mort Rapide and give his new toy a try. As she followed the corridor, she wondered if Alec Ryan could have known what he would unleash when he left his papers to Carmen's John. Sydney couldn't help but believe it might have been better if Ryan's research had disappeared on his death. Some relics, as she had once told Nigel, should never be found. She was broken from these morbid thoughts by her light shining on something ahead. “Dammit,” she mumbled. The way forward was blocked by a wall made of iron bars, much like the doors in the dungeon. They were black and shiny. None of the grime of the corridor or the effects of time seemed to have touched them. She had no idea where they came from—she had heard and seen nothing. She moved closer, hoping the bars might be wide enough for her to slip through. That hope was dashed when she got close enough to see that even Claudia would have trouble getting through. The closer she got, the sturdier the bars looked. Sydney was sure there was no way she'd be able to break them either. She stopped and studied them for a moment before going forward to touch them. They were cold and smooth against her palms. She ran her hands along them, feeling for weaknesses where her eyes had seen none. It was soon all too clear that her eyes had been right. Sydney let an undignified growl escape, though she wasn't really surprised. She then turned her light to the hard floor. The bottom of the bars rested gently against the dusty and chipped stone. She wondered if it would be possible to push the barrier back into the ceiling. She doubted it but shone her light up there anyway. There was a slit where the bars had come down, its edges as sharp as the day they had been made. After putting her flashlight down, Sydney wrapped her fingers around the bars and gave a heave. They didn't even give enough to wiggle. She tried again, a little harder, and got the same result. In disgust, she gave one of the bars a kick—not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to feel through the thick toe of her boot. When she picked up her flashlight, something on the other side of the bars caught Sydney's attention. Shining her light on it, she discovered a small lever that she hadn't noticed before. It was a small piece of wood about a foot long that stuck out through the stones of the wall. She wondered if she could reach it. It was closer than she would have expected. She put her left arm through the bars and pressed against them, reaching for the lever. The cold metal burned against the flesh of her cheek, sending a chill through her, and she pushed hard enough that it hurt. Even so, the lever was still tantalizingly out of reach. Grunting, she tried to angle her body even further through the bars. She even sucked in her breath to help. As she strained, a thought struck her, and she slacked off to move her flashlight from her right hand to her left. Once more reaching through the bars, stretching as much as possible without splitting herself in two, she could just brush the side of the lever with the tip of her flashlight. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the connection to be any firmer than that. Untangling from the bars, Sydney wondered how she could make her flashlight about five inches longer. She had her crossbow, but it wouldn't help her in this instance. She didn't think she had anything that would. She was about to open her satchel and have a look, when she had a strange idea. It was so strange that she was pretty sure it wouldn't work, but she decided to try it anyway. Feeling silly, she undid her pants and pushed them over her hips. They were wet and stiff with dirt and felt more like plastic than fabric. It was slow going, but she managed to beat the grime enough to roll them down past her thighs. From there, it got slightly easier, and she was able to step out of them without much problem. The air was cool on her bare legs, and she felt them bloom with goosebumps. She ignored this as she tied the flashlight securely to the end of one of her pant legs. She tested the knots three times to make sure they wouldn't let go. “Just call me Mrs. McGyver,” she mumbled, remembering a show that had fascinated her in her teens. Once she was sure her flashlight wouldn't fly loose and leave her in the dark, Sydney started spinning her pants. She had a few false starts as the light kept wanting to hit the floor or the bars. Eventually, she got enough momentum and moved her arm quickly forward to propel it towards the lever. The fabric hit the top of the lever, while the flashlight kept going until the pants stopped it short. Its momentum made it loop around the lever, winding Sydney's pants securely as it went. A huge grin spread over her face as she watched this small miracle. When the flashlight stopped whirling and sending crazy flashes of light around the corridor, Sydney knelt and gave a firm tug downward. She felt the lever give a little, but it didn't move. She tried again, gently so the pants wouldn't slip free, but still firmly. The lever gave a little more. She kept up a steady pressure and was rewarded when the lever slowly started to move downward. “Come on, baby. Come on.” There was a sudden screech as the lever fell the rest of the way and the bars began to rise. Sydney was taken by surprise and fell backwards, landing unceremoniously on her rear end, and making her skin and underwear as dirty as her pants. She recovered and quickly rolled under the bars, afraid that they would slam back down again. Once on the other side, she got up, trying in vain to wipe off some of the filth. Her pants were still firmly wrapped around the lever, so she untangled them and untied the flashlight. It was no worse for wear and still shone brightly as she took it back into her hand. Her pants went back on with even more difficulty than they'd come off. They were so stiff that there was almost no give to them at all. Still, she struggled and finally got them over her hips. She wiggled bit to make them fit comfortably before doing them up. That done, she wondered how far it was to the right corridor. Hopefully, it wouldn't take too long to get there. If she were lucky, her unfortunate detour hadn't cost her too much precious time. |
