Page 5 of Fallen Star
At the moment I'm literally drowning in how right I was.
Also, that asshole was so not worth sleeping with. I really need to reevaluate my taste in men. Celibacy is looking like a much more valid life choice.
I've left the knife in my gut for now, because taking it out could be more deadly. At least for the moment the knife is stemming the blood loss a bit. Every drop I can keep on the inside of my body is a small win for me.
The water is rising quickly, and I will soon run out of room for my head. I have maybe three minutes until I'm completely submerged with no way to breathe. Because, of course, setting off this trap also closed the exit just as Trevor-the-weasel slipped out with my treasure.
I'll deal with him later. First, I have to get out of here alive.
Think, Alex. Think.
I look around, assessing the space. The water is coming from below. Maybe there's a way out under me? I kick my feet, and the use of core muscles sends shooting pain through my body, but I do my best to ignore it. It's not worse than that time a corpse came alive and bit me. Good thing it wasn't contagious. But damn that took time to heal. And it's not exactly something one can easily explain at the hospital. I had to rely on a good friend of mine to fix me up. A situation that has become commonplace over the years of adventures. My friend is… well, I don't exactly know what she is. But she never bats an eye at my stories, and always have the perfect remedy for the strange injuries and ailments I bring back from my job. There's definitely something paranormal going on with her, but she's a pretty private person and I don't like to pry.
At any rate, she's the reason I'm still alive.
For now, at least.
Despite strong swimming skills (fun fact: I could have been an Olympic contender, but I had bigger fish to fry) I make very little progress trying to reach the bottom. The influx of water is too strong and pushes me away. Instead, I go with the flow and see where that takes me.
Experience dictates there should be some way of reversing this or escaping. Some kind of puzzle to solve. Or monster to fight.
I'm hoping for a puzzle.
The water slams me against a stone wall, and I grip it and let my power flow through me and into the stone.
"Come on, tell me something, anything that will get me out of here."
I have no actual evidence that talking to things makes my power work better, but it makes me feel better, so there's that.
A feeling like lightning surges through my skin and I follow the impulse to where it's stronger, tracing my hands across the wall as I tread water. Ignoring the pain building in my torso, I keep my head above water, so to speak. And then I find it.
The puzzle.
The riddle, actually.
It's already submerged under water, the words etched into the stone in an ancient language that no one in my profession would recognize as human.
Luckily I'm a bit of a self-taught genius when it comes to the paranormal elements of archaeology.
That and my power helps.
I push myself under water, sucking in enough air to fill my lungs as I do, and face the wall. I let my fingers run over the hieroglyphs, feeling the meaning even as my brain translates from my time studying this.
Blood from my blood.
Bone from my bone.
Feed me your life.
Live in your death.
It loses some of its poetry in translation, but you get the idea. I memorize the riddle and kick up to get in some much-needed air as my lungs nearly collapse. The electricity of power is still surging through me, and my head is swimming from lack of oxygen, blood loss, and adrenaline.
It's the adrenaline that's likely keeping me alive at this point.
I suck in air and puzzle out the words I just read.
It doesn't take me long to piece together that this wall wants my blood. Which is great. I might actually have a little left on the inside of my body.