Relieved of immediate engagement, the scene around Thyatis sprang back into focus. Frenzied words, spoken in some unknown tongue, reverberated in the air, sending a wild chill washing over Thyatis' arms. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mithridates charge a portly, middle-aged man in desert robes, the iron bar whirling above his head like a scythe. The Persian made a stabbing motion in the air, his voice rolling like thunder. Vladimir loped forward, a gore-streaked axe in his hands. Nicholas was looking up from a dying Persian, surprised, the brilliant ruby glow of his longsword shining in his eyes. Dead and wounded men littered the floor.
"Sorcerer!" Thyatis shouted, hurling herself behind the nearest pillar. A violent alizarin flare followed hard on her shout, coupled with an enormous, ringing crack! Tremendous heat billowed past and Thyatis ground her face into the column, eyes squeezed shut. Even through her lids, she caught a glimpse of the room blazing with witch light and felt her armor swell with sudden heat.
The echo of the blast rang and rang, reverberating from the walls. Plaster caught fire, ignited by the flames. Thyatis scuttled out, low to the floor, and saw the Persian wizard stagger to his feet, haloed by a wheel of fire. Mithridates' corpse toppled to the ground, torn in half by the blast. Droplets of molten iron hissed and sizzled on the stones. Face contorted in hate, Thyatis snatched up a discarded hammer and overhanded it at the Persian.
The metal head struck the air with a tinny, ringing sound and then the wooden handle burst into flame. Stunned, the Persian wizard flinched back and the corona of near-invisible fire around him flickered out of existence. Before Thyatis could react, a huge groaning sound filled the room. Feeling the floor tremble under her feet, the Roman woman jumped back, groping for the shelter of her column.
To her right, one of the pillars-shattered by the sorcerous blast-cracked, splitting lengthwise. Stone and debris cascaded down. The entire room shivered, stone grinding on stone. As Thyatis looked up, a queasy feeling roiling in her stomach, the ceiling spiderwebbed with cracks, jetting dust, rippling like a lake disturbed by a fallen stone.
— |-
"Go, go, go!" Penelope, seamed face twisted into a rictus of commingled fear and blazing anger, wrenched Shirin along the corridor, flinging the younger woman forward. Ears still ringing from the mysterious blast, the Khazar woman picked up her robe and sprinted up the tunnel. The entire tomb seemed to sway, the ground still trembling with motion.
Ducking under the lintel of a corridor junction, Shirin turned, staring back down the tunnel. The Egyptian woman came up limping, coughing in a cloud of billowing white dust. "Go." She shoved Shirin out of the way, falling heavily into the rough-hewn room. "Turn right and climb the ramp!"
Penelope fell to her knees, tangled in the loose cloth of her robes, a harsh gasp wrenched from thin lips as her left foot touched the ground. The ceiling groaned in counterpoint, countless tons of rock shifting minutely. Gritting her teeth against the choking cloud, Shirin hooked an arm under the older woman's shoulder and dragged her up. "We're both getting out," she hissed, hoisting Penelope onto her shoulders. Despite her imposing personality, the Egyptian felt spindly and bird-like, light on Shirin's back.
Without waiting for another tremor, the Khazar woman sprinted up the right-hand tunnel.
At the top of the ramp, the corridor split again and the other Daughters were waiting, eyes wide in fear. Shirin staggered to a halt, Penelope's forearm tight around her neck.
"Run," the old Egyptian woman barked at her followers. "Make sure no one's watching the Hunter's door!" Shirin made to follow, but Penelope slapped her breast hard. "There… the statue."
Shirin ran to an alcove holding a cat-headed statue girded with spears and banded armor. Favoring her ankle, Penelope swung down and leaned against the wall. Grimacing, the old Egyptian slammed the pommel of her knife against the god's chest. Pottery cracked, then broke under a second blow. Shirin, pushing aside curiosity, lent her own weight to the effort, shattering chipped edges, revealing a cavity inside the statue.
"Grasp hold of the loop," Penelope gasped, one hand-now streaked with blood from lacerated knuckles-groping inside the opening. Shirin thrust her own hand in, found a waxed, slippery length of rope and pulled. There was a distant ratcheting sound and she felt a heavy resistance on the cord. Penelope grabbed hold of the ancient black rope as it emerged from the broken statue. Pulling together, both women strained against the line, bracing their feet against the statue pediment.
The clanking sound rose to a sharp pitch, then suddenly tension released on the line. Shirin fell heavily, cracking her hip on the floor. A dull, thundering boom sounded in the distance and grit puffed from the broken statue. Penelope rose wearily, favoring her leg. She grinned ferociously in the light of a sputtering, broken lamp.
"Sleep well, old Queen," she barked, laughing like a hyena. "Rest in the earth, forever undisturbed by the sons of Herakles the defiler!" A claw-like hand gripped Shirin's shoulder, sharpened nails digging through the cloth of her tunic. "Come, child, we've only moments to escape."
— |-
"Get up!" Thyatis shouted as grit rained down from the groaning ceiling. She kicked Vladimir over, saw he was breathing-though stunned-and grasped his wrist. The Walach was surprisingly heavy, all corded muscle and bone, but she brooked no resistance and dragged him to his feet. Pushing him ahead of her, Thyatis scuttled towards the entrance. The floor rippled under her feet, shuddering in response to a new creaking in the walls. The big Persian shouted in alarm.
Ignoring the enemy and the trembling walls, Thyatis shoved Vladimir through the half-opening beside the toppled slab, then jumped through herself. Nicholas scrambled after and Thyatis didn't wait, bolting across the outer chamber for the ramp leading up to the surface. A rolling series of thunderous cracks followed, slamming down behind them. Thyatis vaulted a wooden casket of tiny statues, skidded on an uneasy floor and slammed into the wall beside the tunnel entrance.
Vladimir, eyes wide in fear, scuttled past on all fours and up the ramp.
"Come on!" Thyatis shouted at Nicholas. The Roman ran towards her, his footing poor as the floor rippled and buckled, slabs canting up at strange angles. He leapt towards her, catching her outstretched hand. A massive block of stone plunged from the ceiling behind Nicholas, smashing on the floor, sending flakes of sandstone whistling through the air. Thyatis ducked, feeling splinters ring from her armor. Then they were both scrambling up the ramp.
Another block broke free with a roar and slammed down near the entrance to the tunnel. Dust and smoke from burning plaster billowed into the room, obscuring two figures as they stumbled and staggered out of the tomb chamber. A feeble spark of light flared from an upraised hand and the wizard appeared out of the murk, half-carried by the big Persian.
At the top of the ramp, Vladimir sprang to his feet in the octagonal chamber. Thyatis saw him start back in surprise, then the domed roof splintered, raining chunks of stone and wooden supports into the room.
"Go," she screamed, grasping hold of Nicholas' collar. Choking, the Latin scrabbled at the stone and Thyatis threw him into the chamber. At the same moment, the roof of the tunnel buckled, and came sliding down with a roar.
Flinging herself forward, Thyatis rolled out of the opening just before a granite slab crashed down, blocking the passage. Half-blinded by dust, now plunged into complete darkness, Thyatis scrambled across the chamber, working from hazy memory. Three steps on, she crashed into a dazed Nicholas. "Vladimir! Where are you?"
"Here," came a hoarse shout from the gloom. Thyatis shuffled forward, one arm under his, her right foot now bare on the rubble-strewn floor. Cursing the fickle, ungracious gods, she led with a groping hand, feeling rock splinters under an unexpectedly bare foot, then suddenly found Vladimir's shoulder. "Follow me!" The Walach barked, relieved.