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Lost Egyptian City, Grand Canyon
THE DOOR SWUNG gently closed behind them but there was no telltale click of a lock or catch. Though neither Crowley nor Rose paid it that much attention as they stared dumbfounded at the sight before them.
“This is the place that just keeps on giving,” Crowley said.
They stood on a ledge of rock in a massive chamber. Faint slivers of light trickled down from some unseen source far above, just enough for them to see what lay in front of them. Dropping away from the ledge, only a few meters away, was a pit so deep they couldn’t see the bottom. Crowley moved forward and pointed his flashlight down it, but the beam disappeared into darkness, showing nothing but vanishing abyss. A deep cold seemed to drift up from the impossible depths. But the pit, though terrifying, was not the awe-inspiring part of this chamber.
To their right, the figure of Anubis was carved in the wall, impossibly large. Every crease of fabric in his skirt, every line of muscle on his skin, was minutely rendered, the realism of the carving breath-taking. Anubis half-crouched from his position by the wall, one hand braced against his knee, the other arm outstretched, palm up, as if offering something. But from the tips of his fingers on the outstretched hand a narrow bridge spanned the gap of the bottomless pit.
“Well this definitely seems like the kind of place the Anubis Cult would be interested in,” Crowley said.
In the gloom on the far side of the enormous cavern they could just make out the darker patch of a passage leading away.
Rose moved forward, clambered up onto Anubis’s palm and took a step towards the bridge. Crowley spotted the ropes in the center of the structure and panic washed through him. He shouted Rose’s name as he leaped up behind her and grabbed her arm. He hauled her back just as she cried out in surprise, the end of the bridge dropping sharply down under the pressure of her foot.
She landed in his arms and he staggered back, clutching her tightly. They were both breathing hard, the rapid hammer of her pulse apparent against Crowley’s chest where he held her.
“Are you okay?”
She half-laughed. “You nearly dislocated my shoulder, but I’m glad you did.” She looked around at the bridge, now innocently lined up with Anubis’s palm once more. “What in the hell? I thought it collapsed or something.”
Crowley shook his head. “It’s not a bridge.” He pointed to the middle, where a kind of pivot structure was built underneath the narrow wooden boards. From either side, disappearing into the darkness of the cavern high above, a taut rope stretched, thick and rough. The ropes looked old, but strong, each almost as thick as Crowley’s not insubstantial forearm. “It’s a kind of see-saw,” he said.
Rose sighed loudly in frustration. “A scale.” She pushed away from him, angry with herself. “Of course. Before the dead could pass into the underworld, Anubis weighed the heart of the deceased.”
“And it had to be light as a feather,” Crowley said. He looked her up and down, wondering if a little humor might be worth the risk to break the tension of her self-recrimination. As his eyes passed over her ass, she scowled at him. “You been keeping up with your diet?” he asked, unable to help himself.
Her expression of outrage magnified, but she couldn’t keep a smile from tugging at her lips. “You’re a bloody pillock, Crowley!”
He grinned, pulled her into a quick hug, kissed the top of her head. “You okay?” he asked, letting go again so as not to seem pushy. He just wanted her to know he genuinely cared.
She stared hard into his eyes for a moment, some deep emotion swimming in her expression, then she nodded. “I would have dropped to my death there if not for you.”
“It’s okay. You’ve got more on your mind than me, worrying for your sister. It’s more real for you. I’m here to spot the little details.” He raised his palms. “Hey, it’s not like you haven’t saved me before. We make a good team, remember.”
She smiled softly, but looked away. “Yes, we do,” she said in a whisper.
A moment of silence fell, one that threatened to become uncomfortable. Crowley interrupted it before it could. “So, what do we do?”
“We could pull a Nick Cage,” Rose said, staring thoughtfully out over the dangerous teeter-totter bridge. “Roll something heavy across...” She trailed off when she caught his confused expression and looked at him in disbelief. “You didn't see the National Treasure movies?”
Crowley hissed between his teeth. “Can’t stand Cage. The guy tends to overact.”
Rose’s mouth dropped open and she gave him the hand, palm up between them. “You’re dead to me.”
Crowley laughed. This woman was full of surprises and contradictions, but he was charmed by every new one he discovered. “Anyway,” he said. “we don’t have anything heavy enough.”
They both stared, lost in thought for a moment as they grappled with the problem. Eventually, Crowley said, “All we need is for something to stop this end tipping down as we step onto it. Let’s get old Anubis here to help.”
Rose watched as Crowley pulled his climbing rope from his backpack. He tugged hard against the railing on one side of the bridge, testing its strength. It was solid enough. Quite a contradiction to a lot of the furniture and other fittings they had seen through the place so far. He looped his rope around it several times, pulled it taut, then took the trailing end back across Anubis’s palm. Balancing carefully, he stepped from the god’s carved arm over onto his knee, then wrapped the rope around the arm braced there. He made sure to wrap it slightly higher than the bridge railing, near the crook of the god’s elbow, so the secure end of the rope would offer more support. He leaned his weight in hard, hauled the rope as tight as he could, wrapped it again. After several revolutions he tied it off with a secure bowline knot.
Rose looked dubiously from his handiwork to the bridge and back again as he hopped back over to rejoin her.
“You think that’ll hold?” she asked.
“It’s added security. I’ll hold this end of the bridge up while you cross. That rope will be insurance. Then, when you get to the other side, you stand on that end to balance my weight.”
“Good idea,” Rose said. “Until you cross the middle point and we both drop to our deaths.”
Crowley laughed. “Well, when I get to the middle, you step off and hold up your end while I cross the last half.”
Rose thought about that for a moment. Then she said, “I’d rather trust the rope than my ability to hold you up. You go across first and I’ll hold the bridge with the rope’s assistance. Then you can hold up the far side while I cross. I reckon you’re strong enough to take my weight. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to take yours.”
Crowley doubted her assessment. He thought she was more than strong enough to do it, but didn’t want to argue the point. If she was happier this way, so be it. The rope would help both sides anyway; it wasn’t especially high.
“Okay,” he said. “Brace yourself and support the bridge.”
Before he could think about it any more, and start to doubt himself, he stepped tentatively out onto the rough, dark wooden boards. The bridge shifted downward, the rope creaked. Crowley swallowed, his pulse immediately in his throat. He took a long, deep breath, kept his focus only on the far side. He heard a kind of thrumming in the huge ropes either side of the fulcrum point, saw them vibrating slightly in the dimness with his movement. The entire structure seemed to move, shifting left and right. A creak swelled quickly into a loud crack and Crowley bent both knees, grabbed the railings either side of himself. His pulse rate doubled again, sweat trickling down his back.
“Jake, you okay?” Rose’s voice seemed very far away.
“I’m fine.” He took another step and found himself between the heavy, ancient ropes. As he moved onto the far side of the scale he called back. “Put a little weight on your end, just in case.”
“Okay.”
Crowley kept moving, the gentle swaying triggering a strange vertigo he had never experienced before. The creaks and groans increased in volume and frequency.
“You’re nearly there,” Rose called out. He could tell she was trying to encourage him, but her voice wavered with nerves.
And then he was across. Solid rock had never felt quite so solid before. He turned, gripped the railings either side of his end of the bridge, ready to push down as Rose started on her side, then lift up as she crossed the center.
“Go for it,” he called across, his voice echoing strangely in the huge, dark space.
Rose licked her lips, then stepped out. She didn’t wait or move cautiously, but hurried directly across, hands running along the railing either side of her. Crowley flexed his muscles, his strength tested as he countered her weight. He was fairly convinced his rope brace would hold either them, but if they never had to test that, he would be happy.
In seconds Rose was across and she grabbed hold of him. He gathered her into an embrace and they held each other again, enjoying the comfort of each other’s bodies. Rose opened her mouth to speak, but Crowley quickly held up a finger to silence her. He tapped his ear. Rose’s face hardened as she realized what he had noticed. There were muffled voices drifting out of the passageway ahead of them. Far away, impossible to hear the words, but undoubtedly voices.