The tomb seemed to begin with a corridor of about the same dimensions as the door.  The thieves walked down it hesitantly into the shadows. 

            The robed figures followed the thieves, along with the children, except for the six the rotting man directed to guard the door.  Tam held onto Jon’s hand so tight it almost hurt.  Jon held his hand back.  He was glad to have Tam so near.  He could see the pickpocket girl just ahead, slung over a robed man’s shoulder. She looked angry, but scared too.  She saw him watching her and scowled at best she could with a gag in her mouth.

            There were cries up ahead and some of the thieves came running back.  “The floor gave way around the corner!  We have lost two men!”

            “Then send on the next two,” the rotting man barked.  He turned a milky eye on the children and laughed.  “Once we run out of thieves we will start sending you.  The larger ones first.  The small ones might not have weight enough to set off the traps.”

            “You are very bad,” Ellea informed the rotting man.  “I hope bad things happen to you.”

            The rotting man paused, considering the little girl carefully.  “You have promise,” he said.  “Power, and promise.  I wonder how you will grow up.  If you grow up.”

            “Leave her alone,” Jon said, surprising himself.

            The rotting man fixed milky eyes on him next.  “And you,” he said, “are completely worthless.  Too honest, too mortal, too innocent.  Once I could have had a purpose for one such as you, but not now.”

            “Ignore him,” Djaren hissed.  “He’s just a monster.”

            “My boy,” the man said, “I am the monster.  Didn’t mummy and daddy tell you about me?”

            Djaren glanced at the pickpocket girl, and then at the rotting man.  “I guess they didn’t think you were very important.”

            The man snorted.  There were shrieks from up ahead, around another corner.  Jon jumped.

            “A blade came from nowhere,” a man cried.  “Both the men were felled.”

            “Has the blade stopped?” the rotting man asked.

            “Yes, lord.” 

            “Then move it, and send two more men on.”

            “Felled,” Jon whispered, remembering something.  “Terrors await the unworthy.  The abyss will swallow all his enemies.  As the god warrior slew Elush-bel-azzer so shall those who enter here be felled.”

            Djaren drew in a breath. “Oh,” he said.

            “What are the next ones, again?” Tam whispered. 

            “Plague and stones,” Jon whispered back.

            “How does plague work?”  Tam asked puzzled.

            “We don’t want to know,” Djaren said.  “Ellea, Anna, close your eyes.”

            Something squished under Jon’s foot.  He did not look down.  He closed his eyes.  Tam held him hard.  When there was yelling again Jon still did not open his eyes.

            “That was unexpected,” the horrible voice grated.  “I thought the thieves would last longer.  Untie the little one.”

            Jon’s eyes opened. He looked for the pickpocket girl.  She was being set down on the ground now.  Her eyes were bright.  It looked as though she might have been crying.  “No,” he said.

            “Cowards!” Djaren yelled, starting forward.  “You’re going to send a little girl to go die?  You’re worse than a monster!”

            Two of the robed men grabbed Djaren, stopping him from plunging toward the rotting man.  It took three of them to restrain Tam.  Jon lost his brother’s hand, and grabbed at the loose tail of his shirt instead.  No one had grabbed him yet.  Anna, along with Ellea, had two robed figures standing guard over her.

            The rotting man looked at the children in some surprise. “My.  You care about the life of a worthless child who robbed you.  Do you think I care?  Boy child, girl child, what are your kind to me, but ants upon the earth?”

            The pick pocket spit out her gag, and snarled.

            “Be careful!” Jon yelled to her.  “Rocks will fall on your head!”

            A robed man grabbed Jon now too, and the pick pocket glared at him.

            “The door said so,” Jon added, desperately.  The man who had a hard grip on both his shoulders was not rotting, but he didn’t smell good either.

            “Are you ready to surpass your ill-fated colleagues?” The rotting man asked the pick pocket girl. 

            She gave him a challenging glance, sharp chin high.  “Try me.”

            Jon admired her bravery, but wanted to scream.  He didn’t want to see anyone die.

            Djaren looked equally upset.  Anna was crying.  Ellea was frowning, and if looks could have killed, the rotting man would have fallen down dead a hundred times by now.

            The pickpocket grabbed a torch from one of the robed figures, and stalked off down the hallway.  She rounded a corner, and there was silence.  The light from her torch had stopped moving.  The men in robes waited.  Nothing happened. There was still no sign.

            Kara crept along tight to one side of the passage way in the darkness, watching the ceiling closely.  She left the torch immediately, and her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, as they always did.  She noted a stone in the passage that stood out higher than the others, and the old and crumbling beams overhead that supported loose stones.  Not subtle, she thought.  She wondered if Negal’s men had even seen the disasters coming.  She shivered, and hugged the side of the passage.  Just let them follow me.  I will make that walking corpse sorry.  She crept carefully to a point past the dangerous looking ceiling, and crouched waiting in the shadows.  Robed men appeared at the end of the hall.  They had found her torch.  They advanced down the hallway.  Kara saw the rotted man and the robed men with the children still hanging behind.  The robed men moved closer.  Kara held her breath.  One of them stepped on the higher stone, and a large stretch of ceiling gave way.  There were curses, screams and cries.  Above it all, Kara heard the rotted man’s laughter.  “Well done, little thief.  Was that your revenge?  Shall I send in your playmates next?”

            “Go ahead!” Kara barked back.  “Let them try to find me.”           

©2007 Ruth Lampi