“And how about when I caught your shoe?” Wilmer said. “You’d be nearly barefoot if it weren’t for me.”
She looked at him incredulously, then turned back to glare at Royce. “Okay, fine, but none of that matters if we drown down here.” Myra looked down. Several of the map pieces and an armada of candles had escaped her pack and were floating on the surface. “I’m telling you the way out is some sort of magical item hidden in that chest, so once more I’m ordering you to open it!”
BOOM!
The creature had returned to the little door, and the two braces bucked and threatened to splinter. The water was nearly knee deep.
“Okay, forget it,” Myra said. “I’m begging you to open it.”
“We don’t need the treasure,” Wilmer yelled. “We need to get out! It’s one of them tests, ain’t it? You’re just letting your greed get the best of you. If we open the chest, there could be some kind of explosion that traps us.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Maybe kill us too.”
“You know, there’s really no reason to believe we have only one choice,” Myra said.
“You were the one who suggested it,” Hadrian reminded her.
“I know, and maybe it’s true, but maybe it isn’t. Everything up to this point could have been designed to frighten us away. We might be able to just open the chest, grab the treasure, unlock the door, run out into the beautiful mountain meadow where we left our horses, and all live happily ever after.”
“Are you still drinking that stuff?” Royce asked.
“No!” she shouted. Then a melancholy looked crossed her face. “Hadrian threw away the last bottle that the faerie king gave me.” She shot Hadrian a wicked stare.
“How many times must I tell you,” Hadrian said. “That thing wasn’t a faerie king, and what you were drinking certainly wasn’t wine.”
BOOM!
The room shook, and a good-sized chunk of rock punched out of the wall. The spray of water became a torrent.
“Time’s up,” Royce said, as the water began to rise at an alarming speed.
“Open the chest!” Myra shouted.
“For the love of Maribor, open the door or we’ll all die!” Wilmer cried.
Royce turned to Hadrian and in a low voice asked, “What would you do?”
Hadrian looked at the chest, which supported one of the few remaining undisturbed candles; most of the rest had been snuffed out by the rising water. Then he glanced at the giant steel door and finally at the lever and the chain leading to the ceiling where the keystone held everything in place. “I think Wilmer is right.”
“The door it is,” Royce said.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Hadrian shook his head. “I mean he was right about not opening the chest. Only a greedy person would do that, and I’m starting to think the jester set this whole thing up to make a deliberate point. So the answer won’t be greed.”
“Right—so we open the door,” Royce waded a step forward, through waist-deep water, reaching for his tools.
“No, not the door. Only a coward would choose that door.”
“You aren’t planning to fight that thing out there, are you? Because I don’t think you’re up to it.”
“No, that’s not what I’m suggesting.”
“So, what are you suggesting? And I would appreciate it if you hurried the explanation. We’re running out of time,” Royce said.
Wilmer and Myra nodded their agreement as they waded closer to hear Hadrian over the frothy roar.
“Think about it. The dwarf stole the treasure, and then tore the map into eight parts. He had the pieces delivered to the nobles who he’d been forced to entertain for years. I suspect dwarves know a lot about greed. I’ll bet most of those nobles, and their descendants, hunted and killed each other over the centuries while collecting the pieces. Just like Myra did. But we’ve been through this place. It would have taken a legion of dwarves to make. Consider what kind of mastermind created it. Do you think the jester was just some clown?”
“No time for questions, just tell us, okay?”
“I think you were right, Myra. The dwarf was special—a noble or king perhaps. Maybe he had been hauled to the imperial court to be humiliated by a bunch of greedy cowards—and this—all this is his revenge. The right choice isn’t the chest or the door.”
Royce’s eyes tracked from the chest, to the door, and finally to the chain that led to the lever, which by then had disappeared below the water’s surface.
Royce smiled. “Only a fool would pull the lever.”
“Exactly.”
Royce moved to where the chain disappeared. Hadrian joined his friend, which was easy since he was floating.
“Wait!” Myra shouted. She was looking up and swam deeper into the shadows of the room. Between the rising water and the growing dark, Hadrian lost sight of her. “There’s a key hanging from the ceiling right above the chest now! Look! The banging must have made it slip down.”
“There’s one above the door too!” Wilmer shouted, swimming away and disappearing into the growing darkness as another candle hissed out.