Night 49: Sphinx's Chamber
[From here.]
L expected another dark hall, the decaying remnants of what had once been clinical, but he stepped through the door into warm, gleaming light.
The sudden change hurt his eyes, and he blinked against the brightness. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust and sharpen again. As it did, he lowered his flashlight until its beam pointed at the floor, then clicked it off.
The room itself was not inviting: while it was rich and, in some ways, ornate, it was also oppressive, full of hard surfaces and angles, and dominated by a large, carved dais at its center. Everything he could see was gold, even the low ceiling. Atmospheres like this, full of ancient and terrible power, were a rare experience; the echos of archaic authority that had long since faded into obsolescence were somewhat more familiar to him, usually in the context of investigating the theft of some expensive trinket or other.
In this case, though, the power was still tangible. It sat on the platform. It was big, mostly lion, and -- yes, it was breathing; worse, it watched them through eyes that looked both intelligent and pitiless. As L stared back at it, its tail began to flick back and forth.
His expression, which had been both astonished and baffled, settled into a frown.
The situation raised a number of questions, most of them obvious. They weren't where they were supposed to be, and their current location mystified him; they might still be in the Institute, in some way, or it might be a new place entirely. This is what Landel meant by "renovations"? Or -- this is a "visitor"? Recalling the minotaur from a few nights earlier, he began to understand how unlikely it was that they had gone far.
He found that his confusion and curiosity were too fresh for fear to set in with the heaviness that he suspected it should have. Faint dread was present, but it was generalized, caused more by the portentous ambiance of the room itself than specifically by the beast at its center; it felt more like they were standing before a throne than in a lair. Even so... if the beast decided to spring, he doubted that he would be able to reach his knife in time.
For the moment, the sphinx seemed content to pin them both under the weight of its intent gaze. Without taking his eyes off of it, L inclined his head in Lunge's direction, and spoke in a hushed tone.
"Your guess is as good as mine."
L expected another dark hall, the decaying remnants of what had once been clinical, but he stepped through the door into warm, gleaming light.
The sudden change hurt his eyes, and he blinked against the brightness. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust and sharpen again. As it did, he lowered his flashlight until its beam pointed at the floor, then clicked it off.
The room itself was not inviting: while it was rich and, in some ways, ornate, it was also oppressive, full of hard surfaces and angles, and dominated by a large, carved dais at its center. Everything he could see was gold, even the low ceiling. Atmospheres like this, full of ancient and terrible power, were a rare experience; the echos of archaic authority that had long since faded into obsolescence were somewhat more familiar to him, usually in the context of investigating the theft of some expensive trinket or other.
In this case, though, the power was still tangible. It sat on the platform. It was big, mostly lion, and -- yes, it was breathing; worse, it watched them through eyes that looked both intelligent and pitiless. As L stared back at it, its tail began to flick back and forth.
His expression, which had been both astonished and baffled, settled into a frown.
The situation raised a number of questions, most of them obvious. They weren't where they were supposed to be, and their current location mystified him; they might still be in the Institute, in some way, or it might be a new place entirely. This is what Landel meant by "renovations"? Or -- this is a "visitor"? Recalling the minotaur from a few nights earlier, he began to understand how unlikely it was that they had gone far.
He found that his confusion and curiosity were too fresh for fear to set in with the heaviness that he suspected it should have. Faint dread was present, but it was generalized, caused more by the portentous ambiance of the room itself than specifically by the beast at its center; it felt more like they were standing before a throne than in a lair. Even so... if the beast decided to spring, he doubted that he would be able to reach his knife in time.
For the moment, the sphinx seemed content to pin them both under the weight of its intent gaze. Without taking his eyes off of it, L inclined his head in Lunge's direction, and spoke in a hushed tone.
"Your guess is as good as mine."