Callan hangs precariously from the rope dangling from the hole in the domed ceiling. The treasure is only an arm’s length away. The large glowing crystal in the center of the pillar softly illuminates a seething floor. Insects, poisonous blood beetles, skitter around the sandy floor.
Even as he reaches for the crystal, a booming voice calls down from the hole above. “I changed my mind Cal. The priests offer was better. Sorry!”
Knowing, a moment before the rope looses, what is going to happen Callan swings his feet under him. The tension fails in the rope and Callan drops onto the foot wide pedestal. He knocks the crystal from its set and the light goes out. In the darkness, as he tries to keep his balance he hears a distant alarm sound. Callan sighs, thinking about the nature of long days.
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