Well, I finally managed to log in! This chapter's been waiting since Saturday.
NFI - Why, thankyou! Took me ages to come up with that chapter title. Thought I'd get all arty and mysterious. ;-)
Mystique - Ooooh, not just 'fantastic' but 'fan-freakin-tastic'! Thanks for reading!
Odd Little Turtle - Thanks for reviewing again! It could be time dilation. Then again, it may not. ;-)
SilverDragon - LOL! I have to say, that particular image was not one that popped into my head...until you suggested it, of course. Gosh, that would be funny!
Linzi - Dead? Me? What, I miss one week, and I'm dead? LOL! ;-) Don't worry, all will soon be revealed, as there actually isn't that much more to come.
Lady Lara Croft - Hello again! Thanks for your double review! As for what or who Hillary and Bryce are hearing - well, you'll have to wait and see. Good luck with exams and the move!
Deeply Darkly - Wow, what a lovely, well-rounded review! Thankyou so much and welcome to the story! You and a few others have suggested the different time scales for Bryce and Hillary's contact, and all I can say is - not telling! ;-) Let's hope you do get converted to the wonderful world of TR ficdom!
Exhumation
"You think she's gone?" Bryce repeated Maria's words back to her, disbelievingly. They were still sat in the Jeep on the banks of the Dnister, still reeling from Lara's rather disturbing words. "What do you mean, 'you think she's gone'? Are you insane? She just spoke to us."
Maria shied away from his anger slightly, leaning backwards as he thrust an accusing finger at her.
"Don't you dare think we're giving up," Bryce spat.
"Bryce, calm down," Hillary ordered. He sighed, trudging back to the Jeep and flopping down into the backseat. "You have to admit, Lara did say 'they' needed our help, and there was no mention of her, even when we asked."
"Oh, not you as well!" Bryce slammed his laptop shut and breathed heavily, dropping his elbows onto the computer and his head into his hands. "Dammit," he whispered fiercely. His hand slapped the antennae that Hillary had placed down, sending it toppling over. "Damn that Trent."
"We should go to Tyras," Maria said. "It's the ruins of a Greek city, I think. It's somewhere around here, Gareth told me."
"I found a research article on it in the library," said Hillary. "Did you scan the whole thing, Bryce, or do we need to go back and get it?"
"I just scanned the bit about the tomb," Bryce muttered. "We'll have to go back. Maybe the Tourist Information, or whatever it is this country has, will be able to tell us something about it. Might be open to the public or something."
"Alright then," Hillary said, getting out and going around to the driver's side. "Let's go to this 'Tyras' place, then. Maybe Lara will contact us again there."
Lara and Kurtis stood at the top of the hill looking down onto the Elysian Fields. The fires still burned, the streets were still deserted and the rumbling thunder of a brewing storm rolled overhead.
"Any ideas about how we're going to find Fishman and Sunderland?" Kurtis asked.
"Look for modern shoe sole prints in the mud, go into a hut and ask around…I don't know, we'll find them."
"Well, at least we're armed," Kurtis muttered, fingering the gun at his side stolen from the mercenary he'd killed. The light of his Lux Veritatis spell evanesced into darkness at his silent command and, under cover of the dim cloak over the forgotten underworld, they slipped and slid down the steep hill to the village of the Shades.
Tiptoeing quietly through the streets, their eyes darted everywhere for any signs of movement and their fingers flexed readily at their holsters.
Kurtis started as beside him Lara drew her weapon and spun, aiming behind her in one fluid movement so fast that anyone trying to sneak up on them wouldn't have had a chance. As far as he could tell, though, there wasn't anyone trying to sneak up on them.
"What's the matter?" he asked, casting an intent glance across the empty street behind them. "I didn't hear anything."
"I did."
Lara, gun still held out in front of her, stalked forwards, turned sideways slightly for maximum readiness to move.
"What?"
"I don't know," she answered, suspicion tingeing her voice, "but there was definitely something. Don't you feel we're being watched?"
"Oh we're being watched," Kurtis answered. "People have been watching us through their drapes from their huts since we got here. The moment you look over they hide."
"No, it's something else," Lara disagreed, shaking her head. "It feels more like we're being hunted." Slowly, she lowered her gun and turned back the way they were going, continuing on. "Stay alert," she ordered.
"Oookay," Kurtis replied, drawing his gun and casting a final glance back before following.
They hadn't gone more than two streets when the crack of a twig broke the silence behind them. Instinctively, they both spun back round with their weapons aimed, finding nothing there. Neither lowered their weapons, now sure that Lara had been right.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Kurtis asked, his voice low.
Lara quirked a sarcastic smile. "That we haven't found that Helmet of Invisibility yet?"
"Exactly."
"I'm really hoping they only speak Ancient Greek when I say, 'let's split up'," Lara suggested. "There must be only one of them, and hopefully they'll follow me and attack, thinking I'm the weaker target."
"You're saying I'm a weak target?" Kurtis complained.
"Sorry," Lara answered with a grin.
"Ok, you lead 'em off, I'll keep looking for Fishman and Sunderland. Yell if you need anything."
"Don't worry, I'll be sure to scream helplessly." They both holstered their guns and walked off calmly, as if convinced that they'd imagined the whole threat.
As Kurtis continued in their original direction, Lara headed for the square, for an open arena where she had room to move. Reaching it, she stood in the centre and took out her weapon again, pretending to become engrossed in poking and prodding at it, comfortably assuming that an Ancient Greek wouldn't understand what the contraption was. Her show of distraction worked, as only a second later something swept against Lara's ankles, knocking her feet out from underneath her and leaving her falling painfully onto her back, arms bent by her head, as the gun fell from her hands and flew through the air, landing some distance away.
No follow-up came, and Lara got back to her feet, brushing herself off and looking around for any sign of movement. There was none, and then a heavy thump landed against her side, drawing a groan from her as she fell sideways, catching her fall with her arm. She stood once again and looked around. As she'd expected, this called for some exotic training she hadn't used in quite a while.
Dropping her head and closing her eyes, she let out a long, slow breath through pursed lips and arced her hands out, up and downwards into a prayer stance. Eyes remaining closed, her chin raised as she quickly became focused, and she felt the prickle of someone watching her in the centre of her back.
The tiniest, normally imperceptible movement sounded to her left, and instinctively she swung her left arm out to the side as she spun, flattening her right hand and ramming it forwards towards her target, her palm connecting solidly with an invisible form. The attacker stumbled back, and Lara stilled, eyes darting left and right as she waited for the next signal.
Another rustle warned of a charge towards her, and so she quickly moved into a sideways kick, her foot hitting hard against someone's chest and gaining a cry as they stumbled and fell. A cloud of dust was thrown to the air as a thump signalled the assailant hitting the ground and Croft pounced, fumbling her way by touch to sit astride them and take hold of the helmet she knew they wore.
Her fingers found curved metal where the head should be, and so she took hold and pulled, the helmet and the soldier beneath her springing into view as the two were parted.
Multiple footsteps thudded against the dirt of the courtyard as Lara threw the helmet irreverently over her shoulder, freeing her hands to take a firm hold around the soldier's neck.
Kurtis, Sunderland and Fishman skidded to a halt at her side, breathing heavily from their run and watching in silent wonder as Lara barked something in Greek at the man beneath her. Clearly terrified, he nodded. Flexing her fingers to increase her grasp, Lara gritted her teeth and then jerked her hands, breaking her prisoner's neck and leaving him instantly dead.
"Well," she said to nobody in particular, "obviously Kurtis is right about them believing they can die again." She got to her feet, dusted herself off, bent to pick up the abandoned helmet and straightened, offering a questioning look to the men at her side in reply to their own expressions of bemusement. "He said he'd escaped from Tartarus," she said, pointing to the doubly dead soldier lying awkwardly behind her. "Hardly a worthy member of society."
There was stunnedsilence.
"I found them," Kurtis offered, gesturing to Fishman and Sunderland.
"So I see." Lara smiled. "Shall we be getting back?" She turned, helmet in hand, and sauntered off in the direction of the hill, scooping up her gun as she went.
"And there's us running half way across town to save her," Fishman muttered, giving Sunderland a shove in Lara's direction for good measure. Kurtis grunted in agreement.
"So you're taking me back?" Sunderland asked excitedly as he, Lara, Kurtis and Gareth strolled back through the village.
"Yes, we're taking you back, Travis," Kurtis sighed.
"Oh thankyou. Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou for not leaving me down here. I mean, you'd really be well within your rights to but – "
"The only reason I'm not leaving you down here," Kurtis said, shouting him down, "is because I wouldn't be doing my job if I did. So shut up and keep walking."
Travis, keen to stay as in favour as possible, had the grace to look sheepish. "Right."
Lara smirked.
"How long have you been down here?" Kurtis asked, directing his question to Gareth.
"By my watch, about three months."
"Sorry we didn't come sooner," Kurtis said. "Weird time dilation stuff going on, y'know."
"Yeah, I know." A few moments of quiet passed and then Fishman returned, intrigued, "How long have you been down here?"
"A few hours maybe," Lara answered. She raised her arm to check the time and saw there the wristwatch received only a few days before, for her birthday. Suddenly reminding her of its givers, she said quietly, "I wonder how Bryce and Hillary are managing?"
"I'm sure they'll be fine," Trent said reassuringly. "We'll be back soon, anyway."
"Which could be months for them."
"They'll be ok, don't worry." Kurtis reached out and grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze, and left it there as the four walked on.
Thankfully, Hillary, Bryce and Maria had managed to reach the library before its late evening closing. They'd dashed in, found the article about the archaeological excavations of Tyras, scanned it into Bryce's computer, snatched a tourism leaflet about the ruins from the front desk and dashed back out again, a full five minutes to spare until closing.
According to the literature, Tyras had been built on numerous times over the centuries, and was currently home to a fortress from the 1500s that still stood complete, staring out over the estuary of the Dnister. Open to the public, the fortress was also a site of archaeological excavation spanning several metres of history, with a focus on the Greek and Roman settlements.
"It's closed," Hillary pointed out from his vantage point in the Jeep in the fortress visitor car park that late evening.
"You can't very well rescue your friends from the underworld whilst there are tourists milling around, can you?" Bryce replied.
"Are you saying that we break in?"
"Of course. What else are we going to do?"
"We're already risking murder enquiries, I'm not sure I want to pad my criminal curriculum vitae out with burglary," Hillary protested.
"It's not burglary, it's breaking and entering." Bryce jumped out of the car, taking his share of the equipment with him. "Come on," he said to Hillary as Maria proceeded to unload her own things, "chop, chop."
Hillary sighed, getting out of the car and reluctantly taking the radio equipment. "You are irresponsible, Bryce," he complained.
Huddling in the shadows against the massive doorway to the fortress, Maria examined the electronic lock.
"Think you can manage it?" Bryce asked, hoping she'd say no.
"A child could manage it," she threw back disparagingly. Bending down, she opened her laptop case, turned on her computer, and rummaged around in one of the side pockets. Pulling out a lead, she plugged one end into her USB port and then held the other end in her teeth as she took a pen-knife from her trouser pocket and used it to lever off the cover from the lock. A multiple-pin socket revealed itself from amongst the wiring and she took the lead from her teeth and plugged it in.
Detecting the connection, a program on her computer booted up, a window containing a six figure number of green digits that immediately began to cycle through thousands upon thousands of combinations. Seconds passed, the computer processing at an impressive rate, and then it beeped, the correct code flashing up on the screen. Simultaneously the fortress door clicked and Maria, grinning triumphantly at Bryce, pulled down the handle and opened the door.
"After you," she said sweetly, unplugging the lead from the lock and then standing with it with her hand bent to her shoulder, an infuriating accessory to her ungraciously victorious smile. Bryce sneered and went inside.
The fortress inside was incredibly dark and Hillary, having the presence of mind to bring a torch, took it out and flicked it on. The beam arced around until it fell on an information board on the wall, detailing a map of the fortress and the excavations. "The pit should be straight ahead," he said quietly. "According to the article the tomb is in the deeper regions of the excavation, right out underneath the river. It's not viewable by the public."
"Underneath the river?" Bryce asked.
"Literally metres of earth can build up over something as old as an Ancient Greek settlement, and rivers always change their course over time. It would have been on the surface originally but just got buried and then the river moved over the top of it," Maria explained with what Bryce felt was a note of condescension. As if wanting the last word in an argument, she quickened her pace and hurried off towards the dig site in the courtyard.
"Brat," Bryce complained. Hillary laughed.
The two men entered the courtyard and were met by a huge marquis-covered trench deep into the ground with railed boardwalks suspended above it for tourists and archaeologists alike. Moving forwards, they stood on the edge of the pit and looked down. Layers of history were visible before them; hundreds of years, hundreds of generations, thousands of people, millions of days of everyday life now nothing more than silent, impassive layers of rock. Mediaeval, Mongolian, Roman, Greek – the constructions of dead societies buried deep in graves now exhumed for the benefit of human knowledge.
"Wow," Bryce breathed.
"I hope I'm not open to the public when I'm dead," Hillary said, and then he handed the torch to Bryce, climbed underneath a railing and started down a nearby ladder to the trench.
"Over here," Maria hissed. The torch found her hovering at the black hole of a tunnel in the side of the trench. "I think this must lead to the site under the river, where the tomb is."
Bryce hopped lightly down the ladder and followed Hillary carefully across the dig, both of them educated by Lara in the etiquette of walking in an archaeological trench. Hillary poked his head inside the hole and then pulled it back out and took the torch back off Bryce. Shining it in, he fumbled around for a moment and there was a clunk, a whir, and the tunnel lit up as lights fixed along the tunnel roof were lit by a portable generator hidden in the tunnel mouth. The butler flicked the torch off and then crawled inside. "Come on," he called back to the others, "Lara said we had to hurry."