Another phone job I'm afraid.. .just haven't been able to get to a pc ...sorry for anyterrible e errors !
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Hearing the cell door slam Helena was at her daughter's side in a heartbeat. Scooping up the pale little girl the writer realised she was restricted from lifting her child more than a foot from the ground. Kneeling on the cold floor the inventor hooked the little girl up onto her lap; around one of Christina's quaint ankles was a band of chains locking her firmly down to the floor. The writer grasped at the tight metal around her daughters soft skin.
'Oh sweetheart…darling….does it hurt?' Helena scrabbled with the chain until she found the key hole to release the strong clasps. Pulling out the lock pick tool concealed in her jacket the writer slotted her invention into the lock. With only a slight turn the inventors design snapped under barely any pressure at all.
'What the bloody hell?' Helena looked at the broken piece of equipment in her hand. Myka lowered herself down next to the time traveller and her child.
The archaeologist studied the chains. 'These look incredibly old. They're not of the same era as this building… I don't think any old key will be opening these.' Sighing Myka stroked Christina's hair as the small girl leaned into her mother's chest.
'He's a god damn in human bastard!' The writer could feel tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. As she fiddled with the chain wrapped around Christina's leg she could have sworn she felt the damn thing tighten. Hearing her Mother's frustrated words the little girl began to cry.
'Darling, I'm sorry. It's going to be ok. Don't worry sweetheart. I'm here now.' The writer cradled her child as best she could and whispered softly in her ear until the little Well's sobs fizzled away.
Myka glanced at her watch, they had 25 minutes until Sykes would be back.
Keeping her voice low the archaeologist spoke calmly to the writer not wanting to alarm the little girl any further. 'Helena, I don't know how we are going to do this within the next hour… I can't find anything that even resembles a potential next clue...that is if there even is one to find. This could be a dead end…what if I'm wrong?' The brunette clamped her hands together, palms sticky in a nervous sweat.
'Darling.,I trust we are in the right place….we just have to think about this….so far we have been led by symbols of the labyrinth…think back to the rooms we have been through, is there anything that could be linked to the maze? It may not be obvious….we need to think outside the box if we're going to solve this.' Helena took the American's hand and pressed it to her lips.
'We will do it. Between us we will figure it out.' The writer wasn't sure if she was trying to comfort her girlfriend or convince herself that everything was fine.
Both women lost in their thoughts sat for another precious five minutes racking their clever brains for anything that might help them persuade Walter Sykes that they could find him the grail. Christina was the first to break the tense silence.
'Mummy, why is that man staring at Myka?' Christina tugged at her mother's sleeve.
Helena looked at the archaeologist now leaning against the prison wall. They were most definitely the only three in the room.
'What do you mean sweetie?' Myka cocked her head as she gently urged the little girl to explain.
'That man, he won't stop looking at you.' Christina pointed to the empty wooden bench on the other side of the room sending a chill up the archaeologist's spine.
'It's happening again.' The inventor's voice was filled with apprehension.
'What's happening?' Myka hesitated, she was pretty sure she knew exactly what was happening but she didn't want to believe it. As a child the brunette had always been superstitious, scared but intrigued by the idea of another world filled with ghosts and ghouls. It was something she had taken with her into her adult life, she didn't believe in stories about bogeymen but she had always thought and hoped there was more to the afterlife than death.
'Do you remember what I said about cube and the symbols Christina could see….I have a feeling she is seeing something else right at this very moment.' Helena held her daughter's soft hand.
'Darling just ignore him, he won't bother us if we don't bother him.' The writer shuffled back in line with the archaeologist trying comfort both of her girls.
Myka took the Victorian's other hand in her own. 'Are you serious? Is there really someone there?'
The writer nodded her head solemnly. 'From previous sightings and research I have done since, my little Christina does seem to have an extraordinary gift.'
'How?! It's impossible surely… .I literally don't know what to say.' The archaeologist shivered and then grinned. 'It's kind of exciting though…in a really creepy kind of way.'
The writer smiled for the first time since their journey had taken its dark path.
'You are quite simply adorable Myka Bering…amazing and adorable.' The time traveller gave the American's hand a reassuring squeeze. The archaeologist blushed…. it felt like forever that the two of them felt able to engage in their delightful banter.
The inventor leant her head back against the cool stone wall. 'I fear it's my fault Christina has been lumbered with this gift…curse…however you might see it.'
'How do you mean?' Myka stroked the back of the Victorian's hand with her thumb.
'Do you remember what I told you about my journey here?' Helena captured the American's sparkling green eyes with her own. The archaeologist nodded.
'When I plugged myself into the time machine it must have done something, changed something. I always feared it would have an adverse effect on my unborn child. It's my entire fault but I am just grateful it was nothing worse than this. It is only on occasions she sees things, as I said before it was more common when she was younger. As she grows the sightings seem to lessen.' The American listened to the writer intently clinging on to every word.
'You can't know it was the time travel Helena, you shouldn't blame yourself.' Myka tried to comfort the Victorian.
'I can't scientifically prove I'm correct but I just know. I felt it. The machine somehow synched with my blood stream….it was as if time became part of me, flowing through my very veins and of course through me, into my darling Christina. From birth she has had visions of the past.' The writer kissed the top of her daughter's head.
'Is it only the past she sees?' Myka listened awe struck by the time travellers deductions. The fact her girlfriend was born in Victorian England still hadn't really sunk in.
Helena cocked her head. She hadn't ever considered that her daughter might potentially have the ability to see future images. 'As far as I know she hasn't…..but I guess it's not beyond the realms of possibility she could.' Biting her lip the writer considered the consequences of seeing the future before it happened.
Before the inventor could contemplate the new theory any further Christina suddenly scrabbled up her lap restricted by the ever tightening chain.
'He's walking over here mummy…. No go back…leave Myka alone!' Christina stood when she saw the tall figure march towards the curly haired brunette.
Helena tried to calm her distraught daughter. 'It's ok sweet heart he can't hurt us….sit down…it's fine I promise you.'
'No mummy.' The little girl pulled away as she lunged towards the archaeologist. 'Stay away from Myka.' The American couldn't help notice the fire burning in the child's eyes was the exact same fireworks that flare up in her mother's.
'Myka…he's reaching out into you…he's…he's..his arm ….he's reaching through you.' Christina looked dumbfounded as she stuttered her description of what she was seeing. The archaeologist sat bolt upright a cold chill rushing suddenly through her chest.
Helena placed a comforting hand on her little girls back. 'It's ok sweetheart…Myka will be fine. He can't hurt us.'
Christina raised an eyebrow in the same way as her mother. 'He's drawing something on the wall….' The young Well's strained against the manacle to get a better view.
'What does he look like sweetie?' Myka took the opportunity to find out more about her invisible attacker.
'He has a big red cross on his tummy. He's dirty… and I think he has a black eye.' Christina tried to get a better look when the figure disappeared through Myka and into the walls. 'He's gone! He just went right through you!' The little girl cried out in alarm.
'It's ok Christina, I'm ok.' Myka leaned forward and hugged the panic stricken girl.
Helena wrapped her arms around her daughter and the two women sandwhiched the mini Wells into a protective circle.
'There, there. See I'm just fine.' Myka sat back on her heels and pulled a funny face at he little girl.
Christina giggled but silenced quickly when she spotted glowing behind the archaeologist. On the stone behind the americans back shapes left by the ghostly figure adorned the base of the wall.
'What is it sweetheart ?' Helena looked at the blank stone wall her daughter seemed to be entranced by.
'That man...he wrote something ...' Christina struggled once more against her restraints.
'What is it darling can you describe to me what you see.' The writer pulled her daughter back conscious of the tight chains.
'It looks like that 'V' on the box...accept this ones big and right in the middle is a picture of a tower.' Christina drew the shaped with her finger in the air.
The archaeologist ran her hands across the wall. There certainly did seem to be some odd lines where shapes were perhaps once carved into the stone.
'You know his place is known for having secret templar messages.' Myka looked at the writer. ' The knights that were trapped amongst these rooms were said to have left coded messages to each over on the walls. I spotted a few unsual shapes a few floors down but they meant nothing.'
'Well another 'v' cannot be coincidence.' The writer mulled over the image her daughter described.
'I think I get it.' Myka suddenly stood up. Pacing the cell she rubbed at her temples. She let her photographic mind run through the floors they had already discovered. 'The tower is the labyrinth ! That's why Mr invisible placed the tower in the 'V'. If you imagine looking down on top of the tower...remove the ceilings and floors and just keep the outlines of the walls .' Helena listened and began building the picture imagining every staircase and turn they had taken.
Myka continued. 'Now press that together as if all the walls are on the same level...and voila ...we have our labyrinth ! By my calculations that would put the centre of the labyrinth in the pantry on the ground floor.'
The writer's mental picture caught up with Mykas and suddenly it all became clear. ' You beautiful, brilliant woman ! ' Helena jumped up and hugged the archaeologist so tight she lifted her off of the ground.
'Is this a private party or can anybody join in?' Sykes' sinister voice brought the women back to reality with a sickening thud.
'Your time is up ladies. I hope you have cleared your flustered minds.' The old man opened the cell block door. 'Come, you do not have long until night fall.' The old man ushered the women out out of the room . Helena glanced at her daughter loathed to leave her most precious thing in the world behind.
Sykes grabbed the writers wrist to pull her out of the enclosure pausing when he spotted the broken lock pick and the chain now wrapped up the little girls leg to her knee.
' You should be careful Helena. I have known those chains to strangle the strongest of men. Your little munchkin is but a toothpick in comparison.' The old man shoved Helena out of the door and was immediately captured by one of Sykes' body guards. The writer began to twist and slam back into her capturer. She could easily break out of this ... This was it ...she could easily take the three of them .
With the first of Sykes' men on the ground the writer prepared to assault the second bodyguard when Walter tugged at a squealing Christina forcing the chains to strain. Helena stopped when she heard daughters cry and watched in awe struck horror as the metal loops seemed to grow and wrap further up the young girls knee to her thigh.
' You see Helena ...these are no ordinary chains ...these are the chains of Prometheus. The more she struggles the tighter they will get.' Walter pointed at the metal around her daughters skinny leg.
'That's impossible.' Myka half spoke to herself.
'Impossible but amazing Miss Bering . Only Hercules could break these chains without the key...no human hand could ever destroy this metal .' Sykes tugged the little girl and the chains wrapped further towards her waist.
'Stop! Please.' Helena stuggled to run forward. 'I'll come quietly. Please stop.'
'A wise decision Miss Wells. I knew you would see my way of thinking.' Sykes let the little girl go and walked straight up to the writer his eyes inches from her black orbs. ' Do as I say Helena or the key that will free your daughter will disappear forever.' As Sykes spoke he tapped at his chest. The writer silently nodded at the old man. Her blood was boiling once more. Sykes would pay for this and the idiot had just shown her exactly where the key was to her daughter. All she needed to do now was wait for the right moment and then she would take them. The old man nonchalantly thought he had the upper hand. To Helena though Sykes was the goat and she was the lion patiently stalking her pray.
'Good. Now where are we heading Miss Bering ? Please lead the way. Helena is going to stay back here with me.' Sykes' monkeys grasped the inventor by either arm and began to drag her through the corridors of the great keep. Soon she would get her moment. She just had to wait until the most opportune moment.