The Mummy Case - Elizabeth Peters [116]
But for how long? This unpleasant question inevitably arose, and ensuing events made the answer seem highly doubtful. The man who had been carrying me seized me by the collar and started into the hole, dragging me after him.
It was not a grave pit, then, but a structure considerably more extensive. A wild surmise rose and strengthened as we went on into the darkness. I deduced the presence of a flight of steps leading downward, from the impression they made upon my helpless form. At the bottom of the stairs my captor paused to light a candle; then we went on, more rapidly than before, and in the same manner. In justice to the fellow who transported me in such an uncomfortable manner I must admit he had little choice; the ceiling of the passage was so low he had to bend double, and it would have been impossible for him to carry me.
The thieves had discovered the entrance to the interior chambers of the pyramid, which de Morgan had sought in vain. A thrill of archaeological fervor overcame my mental and physical distress. It soon faded, however, for even a lover of pyramids cannot enjoy being in one when she is in the position I then occupied—my collar choking me, the stones of the floor bruising my lower back. Another discomfort soon took precedence. The floor of the passageway was thick with sand and disintegrated bat manure. This rose in a cloud as we proceeded, and being so low to the floor, I found it increasingly hard to breathe.
The candle held by my kidnapper gave little light to my own surroundings. A twinkling starry point behind indicated the presence of the others. Were they still transporting my unconscious spouse, or had they flung his corpse into an empty tomb!
Decayed bat droppings are not precisely poisonous, but they cannot be breathed in too long without ill effect. My head began to swim. I was barely aware of being raised and dragged, or carried, up a wooden ladder. This occurred several times, and I verily believe that but for these intervals I would have been overcome by the effluvium of the excretions of the flying mammals. I had lost all sense of direction, despite my efforts to make a mental map of the path we followed. The passageways formed a veritable maze, designed to confuse tomb robbers as to the location of the king’s burial chamber. It succeeded in confusing me, at any rate, but in my defense it must be said that my position was not conducive to clear thinking.
Finally the villain came to a stop. My eyes were streaming with tears from the irritation of the dusty dung. The man bent over me. I did not want him to think I was weeping from fear or weakness, so I blinked the tears away and frowned—that being the only expression of disapprobation available to me at that time. An unpleasant smile spread over his face, which shone like greased mahogany in the dim light. He held the candle in one hand. In the other hand was a long knife, polished to razor sharpness. The light ran in glimmering streaks along the blade.
Two quick slashes, and a sharp shove…. I toppled—tried to cry out—fell, helpless and blind, into impenetrable darkness.
An individual who has been kidnapped, bound and gagged, suffocated and tossed into a seemingly bottomless pit in the heart of an unexplored pyramid—that individual is a fool if she is not afraid. I am not a fool. I was terrified. In the Stygian blackness the pit seemed a chasm into infinite depths where the monsters of the abyss lay waiting to devour the bodies and souls of the