perishing river."
Royan did not even smile at the cockney accent.
Instead she searched the profusion of writing and images that covered
all the walls around them. Then she saw it.
"Hapi!" Her voice was shrill with excitement. "The god of the Nile! The
river!'
High up the wall, on a level with the head of the great god Osiris, the
god of the river looked down upon them.
Hapi was'a hermaphrodite, with the breasts of a woman and the genitals
of a man protruding from under the pendulous belly. The mouth in his
hippopotamus head gaped wide to display the great curved tusks that
lined his cavernous jaws.
Standing on a pile of ammunition boxes, Nicholas was able to reach the
Hapi image at the full stretch of his arms.
As he touched it he exulted, "This one is raised also."
"'The river flows towards the earth,"' she called up to him. "It must
move downwards. Try it, Nicky."
"Give me a chance to clear the edges." He used the point of the blade to
chip the outline of the god free, and then he probed the plaster beneath
it and found another vertical slot running towards the floor.
"Ready to give it a go now. He folded the knife and tucked it back into
his pocket. "Hold your breath and say a little prayer for me," he
instructed.
He settled both hands on the image of the god and began to pull steadily
downwards, Gradually he brought more pressure to bear upon it, until he
was hanging all his weight on it. Nothing moved.
"It's not working, he grunted.
"Wait!" she ordered. "I am coming up."
She scrambled up on to the boxes behind him and tight,, placed both
hands around his neck. "Hang she ordered.
"Every little bit helps, I suppose," he agreed, as she lifted her feet
and hung her full weight on his shoulders.
"It's moving!" he shouted. Suddenly the image of Hapi gave way under his
hands, and with a sharp grating sound travelled down to the bottom end
of the groove in the wall.
Nicholas lost his grip on the smoothly rounded shape as it came up hard
against the end of its slot. The stack of boxes under them toppled, and
both he and Royan dropped back to the floor of the gallery. She was
still hanging around his neck, and he lost his balance as she pulled him
over backwards. The two of them sprawled on the agate floor in an untidy
tangle of arms and legs. Nicholas scrambled to his feet and pulled her
up beside him.
"What has happened?" she gasped, looking up wildly at the damaged Hapi
figure and then around the walls of the gallery.
"Nothing," he said. "Nothing has moved."
"Perhaps there is another-' she began, but broke off at a sound from the
roof above them. They both stared upwards, startled and filled with
sudden trepidation. There was a ponderous movement from above the high
plastered ceiling.
What is thatV Royan whispered. "There is something up there. It sounds
like a living thing."
A giant was moving, coming awake after slumbering for thousands of
years, stretching and turning as he awoke.
'is it-?" She could not finish the question. She had an image in her
mind of the great god himself stirring in a hidden chamber in the rock,
opening those baleful, slanted eyes, rising on one elbow to discover who
had disturbed him from his eternal sleep.
Then there was another sound, a creaking and rumbling as though the arm
of a mighty balance was swinging slowly across, as its equilibrium
altered. Softly at first, then louder, the movement gathered momentum,
like the beginning of a mountain avalanche. Then there was a report like
the shot of a cannon.
A crack appeared in the high ceiling, running the length of the gallery.
Dust smoked from the jagged opening, and then, slowly as a nightmare,
the roof began to sag down over where they stood. Both of them were
paralysed with superstitious horror, unable to tear their gaze from the
slow, inexorable collapse of the ceiling upon them. Then a chunk of
plaster struck Nicholas's upturned face, slamming into his cheek,
tearing the skin and sending him staggering backwards against the wall.
The shock and pain aroused him at last.
"The warning!" he blurted. "Taitals warning. The wrath of the gods." He
sprang to her side and grabbed her hand, "Run!" He pulled her after him.
"Taita has booby-trapped the roof!'
They raced back along the gallery towards the opening in the seated
entrance. Lumps of stone and plaster began to rain down and dust filled
the passageway, halfblinding them. The dull rumble overhead became a
rising roar as progressively the roof collapsed. They did not dare to
look back as the thunder of falling masonry swept towards them,
threatening to overtake and overwhelm them before they were able to
reach the entrance.
A jagged piece of rock as large as her head struck Royan a glancing blow
on her shoulder, and her legs sagged under her. She would have gone down
if he had not flung one arm around her and held her upright, dragging
her along the gallery. The dust obscured the passage ahead of them, so
that the square opening that offered their only chance of escape receded
in the choking fog.
"Keep going!" he yelled at her. "Almost there." As he spoke, a thick
sheet of plaster came crashing down and smashed into the tripod stand of
the floodlamp. Instantly the gallery was plunged into utter darkness.
Completely unsighted, Nicholas's first instinct was to come up short and
try to orientate himself. But all around him the rubble of the roof was
falling heavier and faster.
He knew that at any second the entire roof would come down on top of
them, burying and crushing them. Running on without a check, he dragged
Royan along behind him in the darkness. He reached the end wall at full
tilt, and the impact knocked the breath out of him. Now, through the
swirling dust cloud, he was just able to make out the rectangular
opening in the plaster wall in front of him, back-lit by the lamps on
the landing at the head of the staircase outside.
As he reeled backwards he seized Royan around the waist and lifted her
bodily off her feet. He hurled her through the opening and heard her cry
out as she fell heavily on the far side. Another piece of rubble struck
him on the back of his head and knocked him to his knees. He felt
himself teetering on the very brink of consciousness, mail but crawled
forward, groping frantically until he touched the jagged edge of the
opening. With this handhold he was able to drag himself over the sill,
just as the full weight of the roof came thundering down along the
entire gallery.
Here on the upper landing of the staircase Royan was crouching on her
knees. She crawled towards him, guided once more by the lamplight.
"Are you all right?" she panted. A trickle of blood snaked down her
cheek from a wound in her scalp line. It cut a dark glistening runnel
through the caked white dust that powdered her face.
He did not answer, but dragged himself to his feet and pulled Royan up
beside him. "Can't stay here," he croaked, _1ro just as a thic '. lite
at St. ug mouth of the opening and swept over them, choking them and