Lost Labyrinth by Will Adams

Author:Will Adams [Adams, Will]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Suspense
ISBN: 9780007318308
Google: Oa9y88tynsgC
Amazon: 0007318308
Publisher: Harper Collins
Published: 2010-02-01T06:00:00+00:00

III

Gaille gladly agreed to Iain’s suggestion that he scout on ahead and search for a way down the escarpment face, not least because it gave her the chance to take the weight off her aching legs. The ground here was rocky and bare, and what little vegetation there was defended itself fiercely with thorns. She took anything that might crush from her day-pack, then sat upon it and let her body rest. A black beetle made slow progress across the dirt. She watched it until it was gone. A slab of rock jutted from the earth nearby. It looked unnaturally smooth, like an ancient monument to honour the high pass. And unless her eyes were deceiving her…

She grimaced as she pushed herself back to her feet, went over to it. Yes. There was a pattern in its surface, two symbols chiselled into it like ancient graffiti: a man marching and then an outstretched hand, though both so faded it was hard for her to be sure. She turned on her camera-phone and took a photograph. The signal was weak and fluctuating, but at least there was one. There surely wouldn’t be if they ever made down into Petitier’s plain. She didn’t feel comfortable that no-one knew where they were, however experienced Iain might be, so she went to the escarpment rim and took a photograph of the plain and the farmhouse, another of herself blowing a kiss to the camera. Then she sat back down and composed a text to Knox, updating him on their progress, before sending it and the photos on their way.

It was another five minutes before Iain returned. ‘Good news,’ he said. ‘I’ve found a path. Of sorts, at least.’

‘Of sorts?’ she asked, her soles clenching with a little anticipatory vertigo. ‘What if it’s not Petitier’s house down there?’

‘It has to be. It’s where that shop-woman said it was. Besides, who else would live out here? The Cretans go crazy without company: it’s only us foreigners who like to be alone.’

‘And if it’s locked?’

‘Not a problem. I’ve got my tent and all the supplies we could need. Besides, if we turn back now, we’ll only have to come back in the morning. And didn’t I kind of get the impression that speed was of the essence, what with your French friend’s name to clear?’

The invocation of Augustin was the prod Gaille needed. ‘You’re right,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Let’s do it.’

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