The Labyrinth Key

by Christopher Cartwright

  Sam stepped in front of them, crouched down to pass the low lintel. “Well we definitely didn’t come all this way just to talk by it.” He glanced at them over his shoulder with a grin. “You coming?”

  The musky, distinct scent of ancient ruins wafted in the air as the men waddled inelegantly into the structure one by one. None of them were small men and their entrance was ungainly, but they made it inside with nothing more untoward than heads full of cobwebs.

  The sun from outside dimmed fast once they’d entered and Sam held up the glow of his flashlight to light their way. It was not as poetic as the torches of old, he thought, but it got the job done. The blue sterile illumination threw their shadows huge and bent onto the walls, and it was dim but it showed them enough: they’d found themselves in a narrow corridor barely tall enough to stand in, in which the walls seemed to be pushing increasingly inward. Isn’t this just cozy, Sam thought? Sam glanced at the others, but they seemed too awed by their surroundings to move forward. Just as well, he thought, as he’d done most of the research. Much good it might do him.

  Sam held up his flashlight and squinted, trying to make out any shapes or corridors – or booby traps – in the darkness in front of him. So far it seemed like a fairly straightforward aisle.

  Tom tapped his shoulder and gestured him forward with his chin.

  They went.

  Here and there, the men spotted hieroglyphs that weren’t scratched off during pyramid looting raids, but they were so faded that it was impossible for Sam to decipher. For the first fifteen minutes from the beginning of their entry into the pyramid, only one path seemed to exist that led deeper and deeper within the pyramid in one big spiral towards the center. Sam had heard tales of false passageways constructed to fool tomb robbers, but that didn’t seem to be the case here. They didn’t see any alternate passageways at all. He desperately put all B grade horror films from his head and the visions they brought of rocks sealing the passageways or someone flooding the entrance, trapping them underground like moles in a maze.

  The passageways grew wider as they traveled deeper into the pyramid, which, Sam remembered, had caused many structural problems. He hoped these had been fixed somewhat in the myriad renovations over the years, but it was not a big hope. The group walked in complete silence, everyone fully submerged in their own thoughts.

  Then Sam’s flashlight began to flicker.

  “What?” He thumped it in his hand, but the light wouldn’t turn on. He shook his head. “Second one today.”

  “Here.” Ethan reached out to him in the slowly dimming light as they stood in the ancient tombs in almost complete pitch black. “It’s small, but it’ll do for now.” He gave Sam a rough grin. “Is it possible you were never a boy scout? Always come prepared.”

  Sam took the small flashlight and he took the lead.

  The single corridor didn’t last long.

  Soon, branches spun off the main hallway and Sam and Ethan and Tom muttered about what to do. Yes, they had the map, but that didn’t mean that it was easy to follow. Sam remembered reading about a queen’s section and assumed they’d found it when they entered a lavish tomb full of crumbling pottery and skeletal, painted wood. The chamber held a magnificent sarcophagus, and the hallway was unusually wide. As they wandered down the hallway, it became clear that in the alcoves off the sides were actual houses.

  “Priest’s houses, maybe.” Sam glanced at them, wondering at the power of such a civilization. Wondering what people two thousand years from now would think of theirs.

  They’d taken turns and wrong turns and backtracked for more than two hours before frustration finally got the better of them. Sam shook his head, staring at the map. “I know we’re going the right way,” he said, not for the first time. “We’re on the right track. We just need to…”

  “Keep going?” Tom finished. “Heard it.”

  Sam rounded on him. “What do you suggest we do? We’ve been shot at, drowned, kidnapped, and betrayed to get these keys and you just want to make snide remarks-”

  “Hey.”

  They turned at Ethan’s voice to find his flashlight shining on a feature they’d missed during their squabble. It was big, but that wasn’t what set it apart. It was a door, which made it different from anything they’d found so far. Before they’d found empty archways or partially moved stone slabs. But this was covered in a mural- Sam picked out figures and leaves and rows and rows of hieroglyphics.

  Instead of being decorated with fading paint, however, this mural was deeply carved into the stone and filled with a type of red paint. It looked unnervingly like very old, very dried blood along the sandstone grooves.

  While faded, it was clear that more effort had been spent on this door than on the walls around it. And that was saying something.

  Sam felt a flicker of excitement. Had they found the king’s chamber after all?

  “Are you guys thinking the same thing I am?” Sam gestured to the door, standing closer to it and peering up at its height. “This might be it, boys.”

  “That door does not look like it’s going to budge.” Tom shook his head with an engineer’s certainty. “It’s got to be at least three hundred pounds and considering the age of this pyramid, it’s probably stuck to the walls at this point.”

  Glancing around their surroundings, Sam noticed a medium-sized hole towards the right, on the top of the door.

  “Hey, anyone got something long enough to fit through that hole and possibly open the door?” Sam asked, as he began to search his own backpack.

  Pushing aside his water, food rations, gun, and some ammunition, he came across his belt that he had taken off a while ago.

  This might work, thought Sam. “Ah,” he said. “Never mind. Let’s see what happens with this.”

  Moving aside his backpack, Sam had to go on his tiptoes to fit the belt through the crack, then slowly moved it around trying to make out the door from the inside.

  “You got anything?” Tom asked, rather impatient. “I feel like that crack is a hint to how to get in… I just don’t know how a belt is going to help us Sam.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Sam said, giving up. “You think we should just try shooting a hole through the stone?”

  “Nah, don’t upset anything. Let’s go back out where we came from to see if there’s a different pathway. Maybe the king’s tomb is more towards the top of the pyramid.”

  Silently agreeing, Sam followed Tom as the group made their way back up, and took the stairs towards the top of the pyramid. On their way, they encountered different rooms, completely looted, but obviously still intact as a tomb.

  We’re not the only ones who’ve been in here, Tom thought. That means that King Sneferu’s treasures might not even be here anymore.

  Losing some faith but not yet giving up, the group slowly made their way all the way to the top… only to be faced with the dreaded dead end.

  The group just stared. Undeniably crushed, there were no words to be said. After a long moment of silence, Sam opened his mouth for some kind of moral attempt. “Come on.” He spread his hands with a winning smile, covering his own disappointment and frustration. “We’re on the right track. I think we just need to keep going!”

  “What does that even mean,” Tom snapped. Obviously annoyed, he plopped down on the hard ground, twisting his flashlight in his hand.

  “I mean maybe one of the things that we’ve seen already is a clue.” Sam cuffed his head. “We’ve got the map, even if it is confusing. We’ve got our own eyes, dammit. What if… what would you say if one of those tombs that we saw had a sort of clue?”

  “I’d say you’re an idiot,” Tom said. “We’ve been trying to search for any type of clue for hours under ground, and every single one we think could help ends up leading us to these dead ends.”

  “Oh,” Sam nodded. “Right. I forgot that sitting and moping is preferable.” He gestured magnanimously. “Please, by all means. It’s sure to be a great help. Not sure why I
didn’t think of that.”

  Tom snorted, but when Sam turned away from him he heard Tom push to his feet with an oath and shot Ethan a very small grin. Ethan shook his head, fighting to keep his own optimism. Both of their discoveries had not prepared them for this. The finding of the keys seemed like fate, like a walk in the park to this. Even shooting out the cartel compound had basically dropped the precious pieces in their lap. This was something else again.

  Even remembering how far they’d come to be here filled Sam with a little more confidence. They’d done it once; they could do it again. Sam picked up his pace towards the room that had been looted but still had a sarcophagus. It was massive, glorious, covered in carvings. He wondered if they were in the king’s chambers, the man who had left keys to his children to bring them closer to wisdom and instead had ensured that that wisdom would go unfound for centuries.

  The more he thought about it, the more certain he felt about a clue here. He ran his fingers over the dusty wall. There had to be.

  Glancing back towards the group, he saw Tom sulkily scuff his feet. Sam slowed his pace and waited for Tom to catch up.

  “Come on, Tom. We’ve survived worse than this. We all just got shot a week ago! We’re not giving up just yet.”

  Tom’s only response was a thin smile, and Sam just let him be.

  Finally reaching the open room, Sam whistled for everyone to gather.

  He gestured at the sarcophagus, which was lying open. “Look. The body is gone. What if…” He knew he was grasping at straws but he had to get them talking to share ideas. It was the only way this was going to work and Sam didn’t mind looking the idiot for the good of the team. “There’s no way this was meant for man.” He looked around at all of them. “If it was, why would any thief want to steal the body? It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “Because they’re twisted grave robbers who’ll take anything they can get?” Tom put a finger to his cheek. “Because in the nineteenth century there was a huge market for mummy dust? Improved the virility.”

  “Ugh.” Ethan grimace. “You tell bad jokes.”

  “Not a joke. Just the facts. Maybe they burned the body for fuel. Just some dead guy, once you take off the jewelry, right? And eBay.”

  All good points. Sam held his ground. “But this is the king’s chamber, I’m almost sure of it. It has to be.”

  Tom shrugged. “If you say so.”

  Ethan looked around. “You want to know what I think? Since I’ve seen these desert men and I know how they think? I think it’s weird that the sarcophagus is so out in the open. It’s almost as if they’re telling us it’s not important.”

  Sam shot him a relieved grin. “That’s what I think. Otherwise keep it hidden. Or maybe there’s something hidden in the ordinary. Wouldn’t be the first time…”

  Sam stepped forward and put his hands to the lid. He shoved, put his whole weight behind it, but Sam immediately knew he was in trouble. It was heavy.

  Very heavy.

  Nothing budged, not even an inspiring grate of stone on stone. “I’m definitely going to need some help here,” Sam called back. “Come on! We’re strong men! We can do it!”

  Tom and Ethan joined him around the tomb. Tom reached out and put his weight behind Sam’s. This time there was the grate of stone.

  Ethan joined them but Sam shook his head. “Sorry, man. Can’t risk you opening that chest of yours.” He grinned. “You can be the moral support.”

  Though the stone had budged a bit, still, the massive lid was pressing into their hands and causing so much pain. It must weigh half a ton, Sam thought, panting. It’s like it’s been locked or something.

  “Take out anything metal that you have,” he gasped, trying to collect his breath and gearing up for another go. He gestured weakly at the stone. “We’re going to need to pry this thing open.”

  Tom laughed. “You must be joking.”

  Sam shook his head. “You got a better idea?”

  Taking out his belt again, Sam slipped the it under, and tugged.

  Ethan was wandering around the tomb critically, casing it like he’d case a potential weapon. “What about the keys?” he said.

  Sam swung to him in surprise.

  Ethan traced the designs on the sides of the huge box. “Here,” he said. “There’s a groove, a hole. It looks like a hole, anyway. But it’s filled with nine hundred years of dust. It might be a key hole.”

  Sam stared. “I . . . am an idiot.”

  Tom was way ahead of him, already at the side. “There’s one here too!” he shouted, the excitement crashing around the walls, deafening in its echo.

  Ethan grinned. “Pick out the dirt.” he said, digging in his pants for his army knife. “That, at least I can help with.”

  It took them longer than expected to pry out thousands of years of dirt. But pry they did.

  Sam turned to Ethan, who was already pulling the keys out from under his shirt where he wore his dog tag. Sam pulled out his own. He looked at Tom.

  Tom leaned down and kicked off his shoe and then handed two keys to Sam. He laughed.

  “Your shoes?”

  “You think of a safer place for them?” Tom huffed, shoving his foot back in his big boot and jerking tight the laces. “No one’s going to pick my shoes.”

  “Right.” Sam confronted the casket, holding the key. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  The first one didn’t work. The second one did. It turned.

  He turned to the others with a huge smile. “Boys,” he declared, “I think we’ve got something.”

  They found the keys that fit the other holes, and it still didn’t help with the weight of the lid, but when they all got their backs behind it they’d been buoyed up by their triumph and when the lid slid back a few inches they cheered and by the time they had it back the width of a narrow man they were breathless and cursing and triumphant.

  “One more should do it…”

  Tom shook his head. “Don’t push it all the way. Don’t let it hit the ground. Not sure this place could take the impact without coming down around our ears.”

  It was a fair point.

  Red and gasping, they heaved.

  It took some minutes to recover from the stars flashing in front of his eyes. When his vision cleared Sam gripped the edge of the tomb, hauled himself up, and peered over the edge. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He glanced over to find Tom doing the same, his face thunderstruck.

  They grinned at each other with excitement.

  Dim and shadowy inside the tomb was not a body. Before their eyes, was a staircase leading down towards the deep crevices of the earth.

  “Boys, we’ve done it!” They grinned at each other like idiots. Then Sam gestured to the casket. “Boost me up.”

  But Tom was already bracing some fallen stones on the floor so Ethan could climb in, too. “This is what we’ve been waiting for. Let’s go.”

  Sam gripped the edge and vaulted over. As he hung there, poised, he felt Tom’s grip on his shoulder.

  His friend’s eyes were serious, steady. “Hey, thanks man. For…” He shrugged his shoulders, awkward. “Back there. I-”

  “Got your back, brother.” Sam grinned. “Always. Like you got mine. Or did you forget about the boat already?”

  Tom laughed.

  Sam lowered himself down to the stairs on the other side, carefully. Ethan’s small flashlight lit the descent five steps and Sam stopped. He didn’t want to think what would be waiting; it was all he wanted to think about.

  He grinned up at them, a flutter in his chest. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Sam peered down the stairs.

  Under the beam of his flashlight the passageway was lit in a way that made it seem almost staged. Sam could tell that no one had been here in centuries. The first couple of steps were well designed, almost inviting, yet quickly disappeared into the shroud of darkness.

  “Hey Tom, can you hand me another flashlight. This on
e doesn’t do a damned thing.” He held his hand behind his shoulder without looking, knowing that someone in the group would hand it to him. He felt the cold metal touch his fingertips, and suddenly shuddered at the unexpected chill. What’s wrong with me, he wondered? He shrugged the feeling off as nerves and pointed the flashlight into the depths.

  The staircase descended for a solid three hundred feet, and appeared to turn at the end. Sam squinted, but he couldn’t see more than that.

  “What’s down there?” Tom asked.

  “Nothing much. I think it turns at the end though,” replied Sam. His mouth twisted up, but he kept his tone light. “How much do you want to bet there’s some Egyptian trap inside?”

  “Only one way to find out.” It was Ethan who hopped over next, surprising Sam, but he didn’t know why he was surprised. It wasn’t like Ethan had a history of caution and he had a personal stake in the matter of discovery, just like Sam.

  The two men shared a grin and Sam stepped down a few steps cautiously to give Ethan room. He crept down the stairs quietly, signaling the others to do the same. If one of the steps triggered anything, he wanted to hear it.

  “High alert,” he whispered back, and felt Ethan nod behind him, grin forgotten, deadly serious. This was a warzone. This was war.

  They had gone about five hundred feet, it felt like, without any incident and no change in scenery. Sam hung hard to his mode of caution, but it wasn’t easy the further they got, tense and jumpy and wanting it to be done. He was just eager to get to wherever the obsidian door was. Then, he noticed something.

  “Hey.” He stalled in surprise and Ethan almost bumped into him from behind. “There aren’t any hieroglyphs here.”

  Ethan stopped too. “Yeah,” he said. “I was just about to say that, too.”

  “I think I know why,” chimed in Tom. If Sam had space to turn around, he would have. It was rare that Tom inferred, rather than just quoting some history textbook.

  “I think I read about this somewhere.” Tom continued. “This must be more of a transitional tunnel, rather than an official hallway. Even in secret passages, they had hieroglyphs. The only reason why they wouldn’t here is because this must have been built quickly and secretly, probably only by a couple of workers.”