Disclaimer: Sadly, none of Relic Hunter is mine. I only borrowed the concept and characters to have fun (but gain no profit) writing this story, which is mine.

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Author's Note: I don't speak French or Spanish. Any words or phrases in either of these languages, I've translated from English using an online translator. Let me know if there are any mistakes, so I can correct them. Thanks!

I've never been to France or Spain, so any descriptions of places in these countries are fictional. The Guardian Stone is also a figment of my imagination.

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Relic Hunter:

Labyrinth

By

Starzangel

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Chapter One: Ignored Rules

As Nigel Bailey stared down the cold metal barrel of a gun, he wryly mused that this wasn't what he'd had in mind when Sydney suggested their latest venture abroad. The steel mouth of the weapon gaped at him, within its black depths a bullet was held back waiting to be released. A metal pellet that could kill in a flash of cordite.

An Egyptology conference, she'd said, a nice, safe conference at the University of Paris. A tour of the university-owned museum that had just opened, talks from top researchers in the field, some time for sightseeing and shopping. Nowhere on the invitation that had arrived at the Ancient Studies department in Trinity College had it mentioned the myth of the Guardian Stone (which was in fact a Spanish legend), Nigel had read it himself. Also, there had not been a trip to an ancient tomb in the South of France on the agenda sent to them, nor on the copy pinned to welcome desk at L'université de Paris.

Nigel sighed quietly, his eyes still locked on the gun pointing at his nose. He should've known by now that whenever he left the country with Professor Sydney Fox it led to nothing but trouble.

"A quite little teaching job"…famous last words. Inwardly, Nigel grinned. Not that he would give it up for anything. Moving to the United States and working for Sydney had turned the young Englishman's life upside down, but overall he hadn't ever been so happy in his life. He sure didn't want to lose that life now. Nigel gulped, his eyes still transfixed on the unwavering gun barrel.

"Give me the scroll, Professor Fox."

Nigel shifted his gaze to look at the face of the man who had them trapped. The thick-muscled, thirty-something year-old had introduced himself as Jacques D'orage, an expert in Spanish History and Mythology. Under the man's long blond fringe, there was an odd glint in his pale blue eyes that seemed to warn that there was a screw or two loose in his head.

Thoroughly unnerved, Nigel turned his eyes to Sydney, who stood with her crossbow aimed unwaveringly at D'orage and a defiant look on her bronze features.

She hadn't known this trip would turn into something dangerous either, and so had allowed Karen to come along with them. But now the young secretary was in Paris awaiting their return from this latest relic hunt. As was Preston, Nigel's older brother, who had unexpectedly been in France as well.

Oh, this outing was turning out just swell, Nigel thought, irritably. He should have taken the hint when their plane had been delayed for two hours, and gone back to the office and marked some more papers. Yet, alas, there was nothing he could do about that now. He'd just have to hope that they miraculously made it out of this mess.

"Ms Fox, it appears that you do not realise that you are outgunned…"

Suddenly, there was the sound of a gun going off.

Nigel's eyes widened with surprise, as he felt something hit him in the stomach. The burning steel slug blasted through him, his insides erupting with fiery pain in its wake.

Sydney's startled eyes met Nigel's, her expression that of horror, as he shakily clutched at his side and staggered backwards.

"I'll take that, thank you, Professor," D'orage said, his manner smooth and completely unemotional, slipping the ancient parchment from the distracted relic hunter's loose grip.

As if she were watching it in slow motion, Sydney saw Nigel's legs give out. He first hit the sandy tomb floor with his knees and then toppled over onto his back, his face twisted with agony.

Sydney finally snapped out the paralysis that shock had cast over her and rushed to her fallen assistant. He was hunched over on his side, his arms wrapped around his stomach, sweat breaking out on his forehead. Sydney pulled his head up into her lap, cradling it against her with one arm as her other hand reached down to press over the top of Nigel's. She felt blood, red and hot, seeping between his fingers and onto hers.

Her head snapped up and she fixed D'orage with a furious glare that could have melted iron. This madman had shot an unarmed man he had cornered, where was his code of honour? There had been no spoken warning, how could she have known that he would pull the trigger? He'd let the barrel of the gun drop slightly as he'd spoken to her, then, with a sudden malicious grin that removed any idea of it being an accident, he'd fired. What had he been doing pointing the weapon at Nigel any way? Why not her, the greatest threat? His two followers had both of them covered, so there had been no need. She had been seconds from surrendering the scroll. Relinquishing it any earlier would have gone against her pride and honour, much later and, in common practice, she would then have endangered Nigel by her lengthy wait. But she hadn't been banking on an impatient adversary who paid no heed to the unwritten, but well-known, laws of confrontation. That odd look about D'orage, she should have guessed…

Nigel was breathing in painful gasps and Sydney could feel his hands slowly slipping beneath hers as his strength left him.

"Syd…" he wheezed.

"Hang in there, Nigel," Sydney whispered.

She knew she had to do something quick or he would bleed to death. Gently, she lowered Nigel to the ground, then placing his hands firmly over his wound she gave them a supportive squeeze and stood up.

Sydney stooped to pick up her crossbow and aimed it at her foe's departing back, her hands wet with Nigel's blood.

"D'orage, you're going to help me get Nigel to our car or this bolt will go through the back of your neck."

The Frenchman slowly turned around and cocked his head to one side. Then a broad grin spread across his face.

"I don't think so."

With Nigel's blanched and still form in the corner of her eye, Sydney's bloodstained hands began to tremble slightly. She watched D'orage raise his gun once more and, over the sound of the rushing of the river that ran through the tomb, she heard two safety catches click off behind her. The relic hunter tipped her chin up defiantly, but fear was beginning to edge onto her features. If she were shot there'd be no one to help Nigel…

"I'm going to count to three," Sydney warned. "One…"

Suddenly, chaos descended upon the tomb. Figures rushed in from the tunnel that from outside to the main chamber. The light from the torches burning in their holders on the walls glinted off the edges of swords and guns. Someone barrelled into D'orage and Sydney heard forceful collisions with the two men behind her. At the same time three bullets were let loose and ricocheted off the rock walls. There was a yelp of pain from one of the new arrivals.

Sydney counted four newcomers, all of whom were dressed completely in black with a slightly rugged look about them. They were all heavily armed, skilful with their weapons and adept at hand-to-hand combat.

Though they had most probably just saved her life, Sydney couldn't be sure that this wasn't inadvertent and that they weren't more rival relic hunters who would kill her once they determined her as a threat. She chose to stay out of the fight and tried to get to Nigel.

However, the chamber wasn't very large and the scuffling figures and brandished weapons cut Sydney off from her assistant. She found herself being slowly backed up away from Nigel and towards the river, which emerged from a small cave at the back of the room and disappeared through another opening in the wall opposite.

Sydney hooked the crossbow onto the waistband of her breeches and clenched her fists, preparing to force her way through the combat. But then D'orage came bursting out of nowhere, a black-clad man on his tail. He tried to skid to a halt at the sight of the approaching river, but it was too late. He flung out a desperate arm as he went over the edge and caught Sydney sharply across the face. She had barely registered the stinging of the cut his ring had made in her cheek, before a much more alarming realisation dawned on her.

She was falling.

There was the splash of D'orage hitting the water, a glimpse of Nigel's motionless body through a gap in the fighting, the momentary rush of wind in her ears and then the sharp smack as she hit the surface of the river.

The water dipped underneath Sydney and surged up to envelope her, pulling her down into its smothering depths. She felt the strong sideways tug of the current and fought against it, trying to reach the surface. But the river was carrying her away from the chamber and through the opening in the wall, away from the lights that showed her which way the surface was.

With her lungs burning and strength waning, Sydney became surrounded by total darkness.