Ithi'Ka hesitates with a pick and tension wrench's thin, hardened-steel tips hovering a hair's breadth from entering the lock.  She withdraws the picks and puts them gently back into their places, staring into the lock with bitter rage.  "Trapped," she says softly.  "If I spring it, we have whole mess of them on us."  She glances down the corridor, the tip of her pink tongue trailing over her dark lips.  "He must have exited through some alternate route... a refuse chute, chimney perhaps...  It might take hours to find it."  She thinks back to the schematics, wondering where would be the best place to have an exit from that room.<br/><br/>((Any chance to figure it out with Knowledge- Dungeoneering?))