Iiiii'm back! Sorry this chapter's a little short, but hopefully next chapter will make up for it!

With a grunt, Cassie heaved herself up into the passageway behind the painting, her fingers clawing to get a hold in the layer of grit on the floor, and she crawled forward on her hands and knees. After only about six feet it dropped off into another room, forcing her to awkwardly try to turn around so she didn't have to dive out head first. "Would it have- killed them?- to make this thing a little bigger?" Cass grunted as she almost kneed herself in the jaw trying to get her legs in front of her. "I've seen the portraits of these guys- they're all a lot bigger than me!"

"Good incentive to stay thin, I guess," Foster said from behind her.

Cassie landed with a soft thud inside the next room and glared playfully back at him. "What are you trying to say, Foss?"

Ian cleared his throat as he also emerged from the tunnel. "I plead the fifth," he said.

Cassie smirked. Turning her attention back to where two tunnels led out of the chamber they were in, she looked down each in turn and then at a bronze plate in the shape of a shield that was fixed to the wall between them. She stepped up to the plaque and panned the light over its dull, tarnished surface, carefully reading aloud the words engraved on it. "To those who would prove men of valor and might, Gird up with courage, face the trials to the right." Her brows furrowed as she continued reading. "But to those who are of strength and courage bereft- Act now, save your souls! Take the path to the left!"

Ian hummed thoughtfully. "Yet further proof that these guys should not quit their day jobs." he said off-handedly.

"I know, right?" Cassie said, her eyes still glued to the plaque. "Their poetry sucks. It is a little ominous, though," she added, glancing down the tunnel to her right. "The trials to the right... Doesn't make it sound like they left the welcome mat out or anything."

Foster gestured down the other tunnel. "At the same point, though it's making it sound like it's giving us an out to go left, how much do you wanna bet there's some sort of instant-death trap to take care of the 'cowards'? Something really sneaky that you wouldn't see until it's too late?"

Cassie raised an eyebrow. "With a group of illegal pirates-in-hiding? I'd say it's not even a question." After a moment she added tentatively, "Sooo... we go right."

"And watch our step." Ian nodded, then glanced at her. "I'll go first." Before Cass had time to object, he brushed past her, snatching the flashlight from her hands as he did.

"Hey!" she exclaimed.

"If one of us is going to end up missing a limb, it would probably look better on me than it would on you," Ian called back.

"Yeah, let's just hope it doesn't come to that," Cassie grumbled. The tunnel turned a corner and the pair of them drew up short. "Whoa!"

The path ahead was littered with skeletons in various states of dismemberment all strewn across the hall. A heavy oak door loomed on the far end, about thirty feet away, the stone wall above it engraved with a carving of a grinning skull with arms outstretched as if welcoming- or maybe daring- hapless travelers to advance. "This does not feel right," Cassie stated warily. She eyed the rows of tiles on the floor, which each ran perpendicular to the length of the hall and spanned its full width. The next thing she noticed was the slits and penetrations that were regularly spaced down the walls.

"That's what they said," Ian replied dryly, gesturing to the bodies on the floor.

Cass shook her head. "No, that's not what I mean! Look," she pointed at several of the skeletons on the floor. "They all died facing toward us- not toward the door!"

Foster's expression screwed into a look of confusion as he saw that she was right. "So they all died- leaving whatever's on the other side of that doorway?"

Cassie blew out a breath and frowned indecisively. "No, because the warning on the plaque was clearly written for people who were coming this direction." She squatted down at the edge of the first tile, then reached out as far as she could and managed to snag a skull that was laying close by. Standing, she apprehensively tossed it forward.

The moment the skull hit the tile, an enormous metal blade passed downward from the ceiling with a whoosh, making Cass and Ian both flinch. In a glittering millisecond, the iron blade sliced along a track and down into the floor before disappearing, presumably to circle back around to the top. "Holy shit!" Cassie sputtered as she stared bug-eyed.

"It didn't touch the skull, though," Ian said thoughtfully. "It went just in front of it."

As Foster inspected the tunnel, he moved Cassie's flashlight around and the beam caught something below the skull carving on the far wall that she had not noticed before. Squinting into the half-darkness, she carefully read the words that she saw engraved there. "Memento... uxoris... Loth." She huffed. "'Remember Lot's Wife'." As Ian fixed the flashlight's beam on the words to read them himself, Cassie looked from the skeletons on the floor to the slits in the wall to the grinning skull above, her mind churning over the puzzle. "We need something else to throw," she declared, then added thoughtfully, "Two somethings."

After a few moment's scrounging Cass found two large rocks that had come loose from the walls, and she again poised herself at the edge of the tiles. Tossing the first one about halfway down the hall, she immediately after threw the second rock a little shorter. They landed one right after the other, and while the first rock remained untouched by the volley of arrows that shot from the walls just inches ahead of it, the second rock was completely decimated by two blocks that instantly slid out, slamming together like a compactor. As the two huge stones retracted back into the wall with a grating sound, the powdered remains of the rock Cassie threw fell in a pile on the ground.

"That's gonna be hard to walk off," Foster said dryly.

Cassie's eyes were gleaming. "That's it!" she cried. "These guys died when they turned around in fear! What did that poem say, 'those who would prove men of valor and might'? It's a test of courage!" She turned her vibrant, hazel-green eyes to her partner. "As long as you keep moving forward, the traps don't touch you."

Ian considered. "So when you step on the first tile it must start a sequence that has to be completed to the end. If it gets interrupted at all by pressure being put on one of the tiles behind you, then things get... messy."

"Right."

A beat passed in silence, then Foster side-eyed Cass. "Well, I sure hope we're right about this."

She nodded without looking at him. "I hope so too!"

Suddenly, before Ian could react, Cassie stepped forward onto the first tile and winced as evil-looking spikes shot out just in front of her, then retracted a moment later. "Hey!" Ian shouted. "What do you-"

"Don't even think about telling me to come back there!" she called over the sound of various deadly devices clanging and crashing as she continued to walk forward. "Or of coming after me- at least not till I get to the other side!" Flames burst from ports in the walls on either side, and Cassie nearly jumped in surprise. "Holy shit..." she muttered to herself. Her heart racing, her pulse pounding in her ears, she squeezed her eyes shut and kept putting one foot in front of the other while ignoring the trickle of cold sweat running down between her shoulder blades. Okay. It's a mental thing! Just ignore the deadly spikes, Cassie- ignore the deadly spikes. And the deadly blades. And the deadly rock smushers. And the...

As Foster watched with clenched teeth, he growled in anger and irritation. "Damn it, Cass..." he fumed under his breath.

A puff of displaced air coming off the iron guillotine blade lifted Cass' bangs, startling her. Thrown off balance, she instinctively started to take a step back to steady herself, only to remember that such an action would mean instant death. "Whoa-oah! Whoa!" she cried as she reeled her arms to try to regain balance, her left foot hovering a mere inch above the tile behind her.

"Cassie!" Foster screamed.

Just before falling backward, Cassie reached out in desperation for one of the slits in the wall, hoping that she wouldn't inadvertently set off another trap in doing so. For once, though, luck was with her, and she pulled herself upright again, exhaling a nervous breath through pursed lips as she did. "Alright!" she squeaked. "Maaaybe walking through a gauntlet of death traps with my eyes closed wasn't the smartest thing to do." She shrugged and cast a sheepish glance back at Ian. "I'll, um, try it with my eyes open now."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me..." Ian's grunted reply drifted back.

Finally Cassie made it to the other side, and she wiped sweat from her brow as she turned toward her partner. "Alright- your turn!" Foster raised an eyebrow, looking somewhat unimpressed, but started down the course. When he had made it to her side of the hall without incident, Cass tried to lighten the mood a little by breezily noting, "Coulda been worse, right?"

Ian scoffed and looked at her with narrowed eyes, and Cassie was taken aback by his sudden mood. "Don't do that!" He bit out crossly as he brushed by her.

Confused and speechless, Cassie watched as he stalked over to the door and reached for the handle that was made of a piece of driftwood. "Hey, what gives?" she asked, spinning on her heel to face him.

Pausing with his hand on the latch, Foster slowly looked over his shoulder at her, anger still clearly painted on his face. "Oh, I don't know," he said, his tone caustic. "Maybe it's how you just marched right into a line of booby traps? You could have at least let me go first!" he snapped. "You could have gotten killed!"

"It was either you or me," Cassie countered, indignantly putting her hands on her hips. "Besides, 'Could have gotten killed' pretty much describes about ninety-percent of treasure hunting, so I don't really see how it matters."

"I'm not going to be responsible for your death!" her partner snarled tersely.

"I'm twenty one, Ian!" Cass retorted, raising her voice a bit. "No one's responsible for me except me!"

"If all I was looking for was someone to crash around some ruins and pull a trigger every now and then," Ian shouted back, jabbing his finger downward for emphasis, "there's about a dozen people I could've picked up at Geoff's place!"

Cassie was puzzled as she stared at Foster, who was looking like he might have said more than he meant to and was trying to simmer down so he didn't let anything else slip accidentally. "What do you mean?" she asked softly.

Ian cast a miffed glance at the wall of the tunnel, and Cass could almost see him quietly berating himself. With a frustrated sigh, he turned back to face her and said, "I didn't call you just so you could be another set of hands, Cass. I called you because..." he paused, grappling for the right words to say. "Because I really enjoyed working with you on the Avalon job, and I wanted to see you again," he said reluctantly, still burning over his slip of the tongue. "I'd appreciate it if this wasn't the last time I saw you again, too."

Cassie's eyes were wide. "Oh..." she said dumbly. "I, um, yeah- I really liked working with you too, Foss." Nervously brushing her bangs from her eyes, she added somewhat awkwardly, "Yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind hanging around a little longer, you know. Maybe working with you a little more..."

"You haven't gotten tired of me yet?" Foster asked with a rueful smile. "I'm not too much of an ass for you?"

Cassie snorted. "Yeah right. If you recall, you're the whole reason I ever got away from that psychotic Adler lady."

"And you're the reason I ever made it off of Avalon alive," Ian retorted.

Cassie smiled a little shyly. "Well, Sully always said that it's good for the longevity of a relationship when it's mutually beneficial." She averted her eyes and stared off into nothing for a moment, then said finally, "Well, I'm not going to promise you that I'm gonna wait for you to go first into all the dangerous stuff, but I will tell you one thing." She gave him a small smile. "I've always been pretty lucky."

He smiled ruefully back. "So have I."

A warm silence fell between them before Cassie suddenly realized that she had been staring into his eyes for some time. Her cheeks reddened and she looked away shyly. Gesturing lamely to the gnarled door handle, she asked, "Shall we?"

Ian smoothed a hand over the front of his shirt while he cleared his throat, coming back to the task at hand. "Sure," he said.

The ponderous door swung open, the mournful creaking of its age-old iron hinges piercing in the quiet of the tunnel, and the two treasure hunters cautiously stepped through. As Foster shined Cassie's flashlight around the stuffy confines of the chamber, it revealed a room of moderate size that was made claustrophobic by low ceilings, a large wooden table occupying the center of the floor, and numerous, varied items strewn about the perimeter. Rusted rapiers and flintlock pistols that were long seized up with moisture leaned against the walls, crates overflowing with brittle and yellowed charts were stuffed into gloomy corners, and a barrel that had possibly held alcohol at some point stood, half-rotted away on one side. Along the left wall was a large, ornately carved bookshelf nearly five feet long, one shelf of which had yielded to the effects of time and spilled its contents into a pile on the floor. Even the table was a mess: cluttered with maps and instruments and weapons, there was scarcely a square inch of clear space to put anything else on it. A skeleton was slumped in a chair at one end, tattered rags and scraps of fabric still clinging to the bare bones underneath a cracked leather vest, with one hand loosely clutching an empty bottle at the edge of the table.

"Party of one?" Cass said dryly as she approached the figure. The vacant eye sockets and grinning mouth made her shiver, and she lifted the bottle from the skeleton's bony fingers. "D'ya think he drained that keg all on his lonesome?"

Ian snorted. "'Yo ho ho, and a bottle of rum...'"

Setting the 300-year-old liquor bottle softly down again, Cassie scanned the items around the room and wondered how long it would take them to actually sort through all this in hopes of finding the coin. Sighing, she said, "Looks like Port Royal's most infamous criminal syndicate may have had some hoarders among them."

"We'll add that to the list of grievances," Ian deadpanned.

Cassie carefully moved a rotting burlap bag and picked up the sextant beneath it, turning the instrument over in her hand. "Maybe our best bet is to look for anything that could have belonged to either Henry Morgan or Alexandre Exquemelin." She brushed the bangs from her eyes and searched the darkness. "And if that doesn't work, well... we'll hope Charlie has something to read."

As they picked through the disorderly jumble, Cassie eventually made her way over to the bookshelf. Nudging a few volumes aside from the pile on the floor, she scanned the spines of the books still on the shelf, straining against the dim light and a thick layer of dust to read the titles. Halfway across the second shelf from the top, a name caught her attention, and she tilted her head to read the words imprinted on the cover. "Hey Ian, can you shine that light over here?" she asked, beckoning to him across the room. As the light shone directly on it, Cassie read the title aloud. "De Americaensche Zee-Roovers," -putting a finger on the top of the spine, she tipped the book out and pulled it off the shelf- "by Alexandre Exquemelin."

"Is it the pre-lawsuit version or the post-lawsuit version?" Foster asked wryly.

Checking the publication date, she announced with a grin, "1678. It's pre."

Ian tutted and shook his head. "Must have brought it down here after Morgan kicked it."

The book crackled as Cassie opened it, the antique cover stiff and reeking of mildew. Flipping past the first few pages, she found the remainder of the book was fixed into one big block of paper, through the center of which with was cut a round hole, roughly the size of a silver dollar. Her eyes widened and she tilted the book toward the light, revealing a bronze coin- identical to the one she found in Lisbon- set down into the recess. "Check it out!" she said excitedly, tipping the book further to shake the item out into her hand. The coin, with its telltale lightness of weight, felt cool in her palm. "A book safe! That is so cool!"

Ian grinned, and in the partial light his eyes met hers. "Nice! Good job, Cass!"

She grinned back. "We make a good team- partner."

The corner of Ian's mouth turned up a little more, his chocolate brown eyes warm as he looked at her. "Alright," he said, "let's get back topside before Cutter and Solange get spooked wondering where we are."

Cass nodded in agreement, and glanced over at a door that stood opposite the one they had entered the room through. "I hope that's a back way out," she said. "I don't really want to try to go back the way we came!"

The tunnel on the other side of the door led to a cave where they could see sunlight coming through a narrow slit in the rocks, and after squeezing through the narrow fissure, Cassie and Ian found themselves in a patch of dense tropical foliage at the edge of the beach. A parrot called in the distance as they stepped out onto the sand, and Cassie shielded her eyes from the sun while looking for familiar landmarks. "How far do you think we came?" she asked with a frown. "It's hard to tell when you're underground."

"I don't know," Ian drawled. Lowering his head, he squinted through his eyelashes as his eyes adjusted to the bright sun "Let's start walking," he suggested. "Either we'll find them, or they'll find us."

A sudden shout from off to their left caught their attention, and the two of them looked over to see a dark-skinned man running toward them and raising a submachine gun as he approached. "Stay where you are!" the man yelled at them before barking something in Spanish into a walkie-talkie. Stopping a few yards away, he glared at them down the barrel of his AK-47.

Foster sighed. "Or, as a third possibility- they'll find us."

Cassie ran her tongue over her lips and took a step backward. "It could be the automatic weapon that's making me feel like this," she said, "but I get the feeling he's not going to be interested in my rock-skipping idea."

A/N: I'm still checking all the time for news on that rumored UC5 game potentially starring Cassie Drake. I just saw a GameRant article the other day talking about how it could be a great opportunity to continue Cutter's story, and that he would be in a prime position to take Sully's position as the mentor for a new protagonist, and I'm thinking- "Preach it, brother!"