Ahead, Bailey had an arm hooked around Yelagin’s waist. The bishop used his staff like a rafting pole to help propel them along.
By now, the water had reached neck high. They’d all be swimming soon. And terror made it look as if the roof were closing in on them.
He had to accept the truth.
No one’s escaping this trap.
Gray’s heart pounded in his ears. He wished Lomonosov’s study had been closer to the staircase. Still, even alone, Gray doubted he could’ve crossed that distance in time. The remote location of the study had made it a deathtrap.
Wait...
He halted in mid-stroke.
That makes no sense.
His mind spun—and he knew the answer.
“Stop!” he boomed.
Heads turned his way.
He pointed behind him. “We’re going the wrong direction!”
“What?” Jason called back.
“Follow me!”
With no time to explain, Gray turned and waded back toward Lomonosov’s study. It was still closer than the distant stairs. Even if the group could’ve reached the staircase, he suspected it was already a waterfall. The trap’s designers would have made sure no one escaped that way.
He also suspected something else about those engineers.
They wouldn’t want to be caught in their own snare.
Especially Lomonosov.
The Russian scientist was too smart to risk his own demise if some quake or other mishap disturbed the mammoth tusk and triggered the trap. There had to be another way out, one close to his study.
And I know where it is.
He prayed he was right and not leading everyone to their doom.
As he reached the room, he found the waters inside clogged with floating books from Lomonosov’s shelves. He pushed his way through, shoving ancient texts out of his way, forging a path for the others.
“Why are we back here?” Jason gasped, treading water now.
Gray’s toes could still touch, allowing him to kick off the bottom the last few yards. As he did, he tried to explain. “If Lomonosov worked endless hours down here, he wouldn’t do so without a backup plan. He or the original designers would have engineered a way to escape this trap if it were inadvertently triggered. And that back door would have to be close at hand.”
“Where?” Jason asked.
Gray pointed at the answer.
Anna’s eyes widened in disbelief. “The fireplace?”
“I thought it was a replica,” Gray panted out as he reached its mantel. “But now I wager it served double duty in the past. At one time, it must have been a functioning hearth, one whose chimney to the surface could double as an emergency escape route.”
To test his theory, Gray ducked underwater, grabbed the top edge of the hearth, and wiggled himself into the space. With his upper torso inside, his hands blindly pawed above.
He nearly choked in relief as he found a chimney leading up. To be sure, he squirmed the rest of the way inside—until he was able to stand and clear his head out of the water inside the shaft. Under his palms and fingers, he felt handholds carved along the chute’s inner wall, forming a stone ladder leading up.
