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In a blinding arc, its tail came across, missed the soldiers who ducked at the last moment, and decimated the upper half of the mausoleum, chunks and pieces exploding with the force of great impact, the top of the shrine gone.

“Bloody ‘ell!” yelled Aussie. From their kneeling positions, they set off several more rounds. Blood coursed from bullet wounds in the creature’s hide but it appeared unfazed by the impacts.

“I’m running low!” cried Butcher Boy.

“You’re not the only one!”

The creature came around again with its tail. This time it smashed the mausoleum until there was nothing left of it but a jagged foundation of black silica.

“Get to the doorway!” yelled Butcher Boy but his voice was barely audible above the gunfire.

Aussie, maintaining his visual, began to backpedal toward the door, his finger on the trigger, firing.

Butcher Boy did the same.

Another swing of the Megalania Prisca’s tail, swift and blinding, a kill strike if the soldiers did not get up and move back from their position.

Aussie got to the hole first, shifted his weapon behind him, and jumped in.

With Butcher Boy still firing, the creature advanced with every step an attempt to snatch him up with its gripping jaws.

Just as the Prisca snapped its mouth shut, with its fetid breath so close that Butcher Boy could smell it, he disappeared down the hole.

The creature circled around what was left of the mausoleum’s foundation, snapping at the access hole and raking the floor with its raptor-like talon, drawing grooves along the black silica. In rage it tried to fit its head into the hole, summarily failed, then raised its head and screamed in such fury that it carried throughout the temple and sent other Prisca’s running off to safer niches.

Having sustained some damage, its olfactory senses informed it that its injuries were quite minimal, and it was capable of moving on.

Using its frill to locate its prey, it understood the fact that they were now in the level beneath it. The Megalania Prisca then took several sniffs at the access hole, reared its head once again, then bounded off to find an opening large enough to allow it access to the lower level.

* * *

“What the bloody ‘ell,” said Aussie, trying to catch his breath. “That wasn’t the same thing that killed Carroll, was it?”

“The very same,” answered Alyssa. “It was the alpha.”

“How much bigger do these things get?” asked Butcher Boy.

“Actually, that Megalania Prisca is an oddity. It sometimes happens in evolution,” she said. “Things like this often remind us that nature isn’t always perfect by throwing in a quirk.”

“A bloody quirk? Is that what you want to call it?” He looked at his weapon. And then he tossed it aside. “No more bloody ammo,” he said defeated.

“But you got more, right?” Hall sounded desperate.

“If I ‘ad more, then I wouldn’t ‘ave tossed my weapon aside, now would I?”

“What are we going to do?” Hall began to pace back and forth, raking his fingers through his hair.

Butcher Boy ejected his clip and counted the bullets; only five left. He reseated the clip by slapping it into place. “Running low,” was all he said and then he reached behind and removed Savage’s Glock. He handed it to Aussie.

“And what am I gonna do with this bloody peashooter? It won’t even tickle its hide.”

“You plan to fight on with your bare hands?”

Aussie patted his sheath, his KA-BAR combat knife. “You know what, mate? I like me knife, because it never runs dry,” he said.

“Yeah, but for it to be effective you have to get up close and personal. Are you willing to do that?”

“I’m willing to do whatever it bloody takes to stay alive,” he answered.

Butcher Boy looked at the opening they descended from. “It’s quiet up there,” he said.

Savage moved beside him. “You think it’s looking for another way down?”

“I know it is,” he answered. “With this place coming alive the way it does, I’m sure there are accesses all over. And that thing knows it, too.”

“Then we need to get moving.”

“I agree.”

At the bottom of the stairwell where they had gathered was a narrow hallway that led to the edge of a forty-five degree incline, a fairly steep slope with no steps, just an even plane downward.

Alyssa held her lamp up and forward. “I can’t see the bottom.”

“You know it has to lead somewhere,” said Hall.

Harika, as always, stood silent but she was different since the loss of Eser. She was so detached that she had to be prodded to move in a certain direction. Alyssa was afraid that Butcher Boy would label her as a liability and leave her behind.

She pulled Harika close, the two joining at the hip.

Butcher Boy then issued an order to Savage with the point of his weapon directed to the bottom of the incline. “Anytime, Mr. Savage.”

Savage took point with his lantern held out in front of him.

The slope was not made of black silica, but some type of composite that was black and without a shine, something closer to a non-porous stone that held an uncannily smoothness to it.

The walls were made of the same composite, something that appeared much stronger than silica. Each wall had tracks in it that angled with the course of the floor’s incline the entire length of the chamber and a meter above the floor.

“You see the walls?” asked Savage.

“I see them,” Butcher Boy answered.

“There’s a track on both sides. What do you think they belong to?”

“Just watch what you’re doing and let’s not find out.”

They moved down the incline with their lamps casting the bare minimum of light, the bottom nowhere in sight.

How deep does this thing go? Savage wondered.

Finally, at the edge of light cast from his lamp was a gateway of some type.

“What’s this?” asked Hall.

Savage squint his eyes. “I’m not sure,” he said, pressing on. But something was ahead.

As soon as they got within range they saw a grand gateway with three doorways. Above each doorway sat a magnificent carving of one of the three kings: The King of Truth, the King of Lies, and the King of Wisdom. Each appeared the same in shape and manner, old men that were bearded, their faces betraying nothing: truth, lie and wisdom a single concept.

Beneath the arch of the middle gate was another series of archaic script.

найстараবিশ্বকোষ жытнымপৃথীবীর і

তালিকা হয়েছে। ўяўленьнямі бпа২০০৭ ўц তারিখে

чанасьউইকিপিডিয়া, ці дасканалযাতে асьমুক্ত ціцудаў

жанр প্রকাশিনির্মিত

“Now what?” asked Hall, clearly annoyed by the symbols.

Everyone gathered close.

“It’s another riddle,” said Alyssa.

“What is it with these bloody riddles?”

“They’re there to test a person’s wisdom, fortitude and courage, culling those who are not worthy by dispensing them with tripwires, granting privilege to those who do possess them the opportunity to pass into the Chamber of the Primaries.”

Savage held the lamp high. On the middle gate was a bonelike dial. None of the other gates had such an instrument. “So what do we do?”

She read the scripture as best she could by piecing together numerous symbols.

“Turn the circle for the Kings of Self; the sands begin to flow; should you solve the riddle before time runs low, the way to the Primaries shall you go. Choose your gate wisely, the Light you shall see; choose your gate poorly, forever darkness it will be.”