HE SECOND TUNNEL was wide enough for two to walk side by side.

Well constructed, the passage had semi-smooth walls and a level floor. Stout oak crossbeams braced the ceiling at regular intervals.

Yet the passage was clearly ancient. Despite air movement, the atmosphere was musty and sour. Slimy mud coated the ground.

Slowly, we edged forward, clumped close, our flare senses on high alert.

Hi was beside me, holding the lantern. Its halogen bulb illuminated a ten-foot radius, allowing my pupils to register details with remarkable clarity.

As we crept along, the beam-and-blade trap dominated my thoughts.

I remembered the verse on the treasure map. Not the first line. I was sure we’d bypassed the tunnel entrance, making “Lady Peregrine’s roost” a moot point. My focus was on the second line.

“Begin thy winding to the dark chamber’s sluice.”

Dark chamber’s sluice? What could that be?

My mind sifted possibilities. Came up empty. I was forced to admit that, without more, the rhyme was too vague to be useful.

And the map’s other stanza? What did those words mean?

I felt Hi grab my arm. My head turned. He was staring at the ground.

“Don’t. Move.”

Ever so slowly, Hi knelt, then lay flat on his belly, eyes glued to a spot at my feet.

“What is it?” Shelton’s face had drawn level with my ear.

Hi’s gaze rolled to the ceiling. Gingerly, he eased back to his feet.

“No one move. There’s a tripwire ahead, and it might not be alone.”

“Tripwire?” Shelton quavered. “For what?”

“For whatever’s above our heads. Snap the wire and something nasty’s coming down.”

My eyes darted upward. Hi was right. Three vertical slots split the ceiling, spaced at one-yard intervals.

Ben’s flashlight probed the far left opening.

“Metal grates, hanging by ropes.” His beam worked its way right. “Spikes along the bottom.”

Gulp.

“Everyone stay still,” Hi said. “I’ll check for other wires.”

“Go slowly,” I warned. “Please be careful.”

Hi studied the ground, rotating the lantern in a circular pattern. Finally, he began inching forward.

Step. Pause. Step. Pause. Then he lifted his knee in a long stride.

I stared at the space Hi had high-stepped, stretching my flare vision to its limit.

And saw it.

A strand no thicker than fishing line. The filament crossed the passage at knee level, virtually invisible in the murky light.

Without Hi’s sharper eyes, we’d have tripped it. A chill passed through me.

So close.

“There’s only one wire.” Hi was barely breathing. “I’m straddling the sucker to show where it is.”

Sweat dripped from Ben’s chin. “Don’t screw up.”

Legs spread, Hi gestured us forward.

It was almost comical. A mime’s game. Hi squatted over nothing, poised in a shaky basketball defensive stance.

“Come on,” he urged. “I can’t stay like this all day.”

I went first, eyes never straying from the wire. Once over, I scurried from the danger zone.

Shelton came next, moving slower, face a mask of concentration. Ben traversed the obstacle nimbly, then offered a hand back to Hi.

Shaking him off, Hi swung his back leg over the wire, ballet style. He turned in a pirouette, grin already forming. Then his plant foot slipped on the slick floor. As he fell, his back leg slashed the tripwire.

Something groaned and shifted overhead. Pebbles rained from the slots in the roof.

Ben moved quick as a bullet.

Grabbing Hi with both hands, he backpedaled with a powerful lunge. The two slammed into Shelton and me, bowling us over.

Objects fell from the ceiling with a terrible shriek. Dust billowed in clouds.

Then the clamor ceased. The dirt began to settle.

Coughing and spitting, we picked ourselves up and inventoried the damage.

“Anyone hurt?” I asked, wiping grit from my eyes.

“No.”

“Not really.”

“Holy crap.”

Back down the passage, three massive iron sheets lay jumbled on the floor. Right where we’d been standing.

“Hi,” Shelton panted. “I love you, man.”

“Back at you.” Hi spat gobs of filth. “I’m going to kiss Ben now, in case some of you don’t want to watch.”

“I’ll pass.” Ben ruffled Hi’s hair. “Next time, show a little coordination.”

“Stupid Nikes. Next time, I’m buying Adidas.”

“Everyone still flaring?” I asked.

Three affirmatives.

“Then we need to keep moving.”

All smiles faded.

Who knew what other traps lay ahead?

“Wait.” Shelton raised both hands. “Quiet.”

Everyone froze.

“Something’s changed. The wind sounds … different.”

We held our breath. When it came to sonic hearing, Shelton was the undisputed champ.

“Does anything look wrong?” Shelton was tilting his head from side to side, like a parakeet assessing a new cage. “Out of place?”

“Holes in the wall!” Hi’s finger shot out. “Both sides.”

Three yards ahead I could see four circles, two on each side. Shoulder high, each was roughly six inches wide.

“That’s the noise!” Shelton exclaimed. “Air flowing over the gaps. Can’t you hear the whine?”

I shook my head. “I’m glad you did.”

“The ground,” Ben hissed. “The center of the passage humps up slightly.”

“He’s right,” I said. “Looks like another trap. But what kind?”

Ben withdrew a water bottle from my pack.

“Head’s up!” He tossed it directly onto the mound.

Click.

Spears shot from each side, crossed, and slammed into the opposite wall. Wooden shafts snapped and clattered to the ground like pick-up sticks.

“Whoa,” Hi said.

Agreed.

We picked our way through the debris, carefully avoiding the hump. Who knew if the trap could reload?

We’d gone another thirty yards when I noticed a glint in the distance.

“Stop!” I raised the flashlight as high as I could. “Something’s reflecting.”

“Great,” Shelton muttered. “Probably machine guns.”

As one, we crept forward, senses firing. Sweat slicked my palms, soaked my shirt, and drenched my face.

Ten yards. Fifteen. Twenty.

A starburst of light danced around us.

“Oh my God!” Hi dropped the lantern in shock. The light tilted, casting ghastly shadows across the passageway.

Before us lay another trap, already tripped.

Twin metal spikes had swung down from the ceiling, one in front, the other from behind, their deadly points meeting like monstrous pinchers.

An object was caught between them.

Shelton screamed.

Ben cursed.

Hi puked on his Nikes.

I stood, speechless.

Eyes glued to an impaled corpse.