The Pegassian Order

9. The Divide

Cara Larson poured some bottled water into her hand then sprinkled it over the brunette who had a welt on her forehead and had been unconscious for over an hour now. Cara was getting restless. She knew time was an issue and she'd lost her team trying to make it to the Pegassian Treasure which was mere chambers away. She had managed to hide behind a large pile of hay in the previous room, in hopes of her team coming through that door. But when the woman entered the chamber she realised her team didn’t make it.

She took a swig from the bottle then tossed the water freely on the woman, the woman jolted awake and scrambled away from Cara.

‘I saved you. Relax.’ She instructed.

The woman looked around at the surroundings and frowned. They were in yet another stone room, only this one had far more marble busts than the previous rooms and most of the busts belonged to hooded figures.

‘What happened?’

‘You were about to get trampled to death by wild horses. So I pulled the trigger and they scattered.’ Cara sighed. ‘I was hoping you were someone from my team, but something tells me they didn't make it.’

Elliot's mind sprung to the bodies she felt in the water. She didn't speak.

‘What's your name?’ Cara asked.

‘You first.’ Elliot responded, eyeing the blond who looked like she was dressed for a jewel heist in all black combat clothes with various tools on her belt and a black backpack.

‘I'm Cara.’ She studied Elliot curiously. ‘My client hired me to track down a treasure that's somewhere in one of these rooms.’ She said, looking at the busts. ‘Look at these weirdos.’ She remarked as she ran a hand along one of the hooded pearly faces. ‘I've got a V for Vendetta mask but I wouldn't want someone to carve a bust of me wearing it. Kinky stuff.’ She said as she leaned close to the hooded faces which wore the hood fully over their heads, covering the eyes.

‘It's a cult.’ Elliot explained. ‘They're worshiping Medusa's trials, at least I think that's what's going on.’

‘If you're here for the treasure, then I'll have to hurt you.’ Cara warned, reaching for her pistol. Elliot shook her head and raised her hands in surrender. Something about the ease with which Cara plucked her pistol from her waist and aimed it straight at Elliot's head told her, she wasn't joking.

‘My sister's missing. She came down here looking for something and vanished.’

Cara lowered her pistol and watched Elliot for a moment. ‘What's your name?’ She asked, scanning Elliot's face as if it was a strange pebble she found on the beach.

‘Elliot Mara.’

‘Huh…’ Cara replied, bemused. ‘I thought you looked familiar.’

Lowering her gun, she slid it back into the holster and extended a hand to Elliot. Elliot examined the perfectly red painted nails that hung in the air before her. She took Cara's hand and shook it.

‘It's an honour to meet the progeny of a brilliant woman.’ Cara's choice of words bothered Elliot, but she didn't know why. She mustered a half-hearted smile and glanced at the room they were in.

‘Those horses are trapped in the dark. Frightened.’

‘Keeps them wild, I guess.’ Cara chimed in. ‘It's more terrifying to be chased by a frenzied horse than to be trotted after by a calm horse.’

Elliot tried not to smile at Cara's frank way of putting things. She noticed the thick layer of dust coating the ground as she searched the room for signs of where to go next. The dust made her nostrils sting and her eyes water, it mingled with the scent of hay and a dankness clung to the air.

Had Chloe been here, in this exact room? At least Elliot wasn’t alone down here. At least she had Cara. Even though Cara was a thief and would most likely betray her the moment she found whatever treasure she sought, Elliot took solace in knowing she wasn't buried beneath Athens, among the tombs and catacombs all by herself.

What was the obsession with medusa about? Did Chloe find out about the markings on the walls and the traps? Did she uncover a tomb or something darker? Elliot's head throbbed, fogging her mind with a dullness which made it hard to think clearly.

‘Were you close to your team?’ Elliot asked the woman, who even with her hair in a scruffy high pony with minimal make up, was gorgeous. The woman shook her head.

‘Not really. I don't do closeness. It's not really my thing.’ Elliot considered telling her she thought she had brushed past the dead bodies of her team when she was swimming through the water, but decided against it. Close or not, the last thing Elliot wanted to do was weaken any morale the two had. Right now, morale was their best chance at getting through whatever was to come.

‘Do you see that?’ Cara's words pulled Elliot back into the present. She saw Cara examining another series of markings but this time they were not on the walls. They were on the ground. The shape was circular but with flame-like shapes sprouting from the edges making it resemble a fiery sun.

‘It's…’ Elliot narrowed her eyes and examined the image carved into stone. ‘It's a door of some kind.’ She took a step backwards, putting space between herself and the etched symbol on the ground. She took Cara by the arm and pulled her away, Cara pushed Elliot's hand off her and stepped closer to it.

‘Cara, be careful.’

‘The point of this place is to progress, right? So let's progress.’ Cara dismissed as she brushed past her. Elliot followed the tips of the flames on the ground and realised they were locked in place, like triggers.

‘Weight.’ Elliot said as Cara stepped onto the circle. The ground clicked.

‘What?’

‘No—Weight!’ Elliot pointed at Cara’s feet. ‘Don't move. If you move, it'll open. It's a trap door.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Cara rolled her eyes and moved. As she did, the ground split open and Cara plunged into the dark.

Elliot leaped forward in hopes of grabbing her, but she was too late. She peered over the edge of the pit and heard a hissing noise. She saw Cara, clinging to a rope which hovered meters above a pit of snakes. The snakes curled up then rose, their mouths open and their fangs glistening. The clamour of their hissing made it sound as though death herself was whispering in their ears.

‘Hold on!’ Elliot yelled. She looked at the distance between the rope and the snakes, then noticed the door to one side. ‘Cara, you have to swing!’

‘What?’ Cara asked, her muscles were growing sore. The snakes jutted toward her, missing her by half a meter. She cried out in exhaustion and fear.

‘You have to swing to your left!’

Cara craned her neck until she saw what Elliot was talking about. There, among the shadowy surroundings was a doorway with two sharp points of stone dangling from the ceiling, like fangs of a snake.

Cara grunted with effort as she swung herself back then forth. She planted her feet against the wall then pushed herself off. A snake leaped at her and she kicked it aside as she swung over the pit. The snakes hissed angrily, and more leaped. Cara kicked at them, sending the rope to spin, spinning her along with it. She swung into the wall and struck her head heard against the rock. A hot pain pulses through her head.

Elliot cursed under her breath as she saw Cara wilt while clinging to the rope. A foot lower, and the snakes would have a feast. She had no choice. She leaped onto the rope and began to climb down it. Her boots slid down the old rope, which creaked from the extra weight of having two people on it at once.

Elliot lurched to one side, forcing the rope to swing with her.

‘Jump!’ Elliot ordered as the pair swung toward the doorway. Cara leaped then Elliot followed. As Elliot landed in the cave, her head clipped the tip of the stone fang hanging from the roof of the doorway.

The women landed in a heap on the ground, safely away from the snakes. Cara stood up and cupped her own head.

‘Everything is spinning.’ She mumbled.

‘Give it a minute.’ Elliot replied as she touched her forehead to find a gash across it. Crimson blood covered her hand. Elliot saw the grave look on Cara's face as Cara watched her. Elliot threw her an inquisitive look.

‘That's a lot of blood.’ Cara answered, concerned. Elliot turned away from her and winced. It felt as though she had been struck by an axe. The pain in her head split across the back of her head and the right side. She could barely keep her eyes open. Her pulse thumped in her ears as warm blood streamed down her cheek.

‘Drink this.’ Cara pulled out a small flask. Elliot took a swig and was pleasantly surprised to recognise the sweet taste of rum as it poured down her throat and warmed her chest.

‘Don't fight it.’ Was the last thing Elliot heard her say before everything turned black.

When Elliot awoke, she was in a pitch black space. It must have been no bigger than the size of a wardrobe. She was sitting with her back against rock and when she reached out, all she found was the surface of stone.

‘Cara?’ She called. There was no reply. Elliot stood and suddenly felt light headed as she banged her fists against the wall. It was like being in an upright stone coffin.

‘Hello?!’ She called. Her head ached. Lifting a hand, she felt a bandage on her head. The wound had been covered but felt sore. She could still taste the rum and whatever else Cara had mixed in the drink. Was Cara one of them? Or had she been overpowered by someone or something and tossed into a stone cage of her own?

Elliot felt the stone before her. Powder clung to her fingertips as she brushed the smooth surface. The wall was blank. She turned around and felt for markings, a message, anything. She was blind, wounded and alone. That was when she felt the first jagged letter in the wall. ‘H’ then ‘E’ then ‘L’ and then the last letter. ‘P’. It was crooked and had been stabbed into the wall in a frantic effort of some kind. Elliot's boot collided with something on the ground.

Elliot crouched and patted the floor. The stony floor was a pulpy mess of rock and sludge. She rummaged through the dirt until she found the item she had kicked, it was a dagger.

Somebody else had been in here. Somebody had left this behind. Elliot picked up the dagger and clutched it with both hands then leaped and slammed it into the wall. It let out a hollow cracking sound as it impaled itself into the wall. Elliot then jumped upward and gripped it, planting her boots flatly against the wall and her back against the rocky surface behind her.

She freed the dagger then threw herself upward a second time and climbed up again. Until her back pressed against a marked surface. Elliot froze. The surface moved but didn't click. A single movement from Elliot and it would trigger the next trap.

Her boots began to slip downwards.

‘No, no… come on…’ Elliot prayed gripping the handle of the dagger. It tilted downward against her weight. Elliot was moments away from dropping to the ground below and triggering the trap.

She started to pant for air, sucking in a deep breath she freed the dagger and as she leapt once more and planted it into the wall before her, the wall behind her let out a clicking noise. Within seconds, the sound of rushing water began to swell within her stone tomb.

That was when Elliot realised she was going to drown.