The end of the passage was only feet away, but the last two bars were still intact, the gap between them narrow enough for the barbs to snag him.

He kicked, driving the heel of his boot against the nearest pole. It split in two, the top half plunging from its hole in the ceiling and slashing his leg.

But there wasn’t time for pain-the ceiling was still descending.

He cleared the last pole, sweeping the flashlight beam around as he tried to find the lever or switch or whatever the hell he was supposed to pull-

“Chase!” Starkman cried behind him. “Help!”

Chase looked back. Starkman, taller than him, had been forced into a crouch as the stones dropped-and his empty holster had snagged on one of the broken poles.

But if Chase went back to pull him free, the ceiling would crush them both within seconds.

“Eddie!”

Chase ignored him, hurriedly searching the wall-

There! A dark recess in the stone.

He thrust his fist into the square opening, fingers outstretched.

Nothing but dry, broken splinters.

The ceiling pushed down, forcing him to his knees. In a few more seconds, the last block would reach the hole in the wall and crush his arm, and then the rest of him…

The mechanism had to be made of something stronger than wood, or it would have decayed-

Chase forced his arm deeper into the hole, fingers clawing.

Wooden fragments, cold stone… metal!

The stub of some lever, part of a switch-it didn’t matter. He clamped his hand around it as tightly as he could, and pulled-

It moved!

It was only the slightest shift, but it was enough. Something inside the wall tripped with a hollow clunk-and the ceiling stopped.

Dust cascading all around him, Chase withdrew his hand from the hole to find that his palm was bleeding. The metal stub’s edges were as sharp as the rusted poles.

He turned the flashlight, looking for the spot where the exit had been in the Brazilian temple. A new crack appeared between two of the blocks. He shoved a foot against the stone. It moved.

“Little help?” said a quiet voice.

Starkman was hunched in an extremely uncomfortable position, twisted around the broken spike. The ceiling was less than three feet above the floor. Whatever machinery had retracted the stone blocks in Brazil was obviously out of action here.

Chase extended his uninjured hand to Starkman, then leaned back and pulled. For a few seconds it seemed as though Starkman was trapped-then the pole gave way with a grinding snap, pitching the American onto his front.

“Thanks,” he said, crawling forward. Chase kicked the hinged block aside.

“There’s still two more of these to go,” he warned, crawling through the hole and standing up in the next passage.

Starkman followed quickly. “How long have we got?”

“Three and a half minutes! Come on!”

“Is that long enough?” Starkman asked, running after him.

“It’ll have to be.”

The passage followed the same route that he remembered from Brazil. So far, so good-there was still a chance of survival.

A small one, but…

The echo of their footsteps changed, the tunnel opening out ahead. The Challenge of Skill.

Chase swept his light around the chamber. No caimans or piranhas here-in fact, there was no water at all, the stone pool completely dry. All that remained in the bottom of the nine-foot-deep channel was a scabrous, discolored residue of algae.

He looked to his right. The exit was there, but the bridge wasn’t. Not intact, anyway. It had rotted away and collapsed, its remains scattered across the pool like a broken skeleton.

“We’ve got to get over there,” he said, pointing at the exit and jumping down into the channel.

“How long?”

“Two and a bit minutes!”

They ran to the remnants of the bridge. Chase looked at the top of the wall. He might be able to jump and grab the edge, but it would be tough to keep his grip while climbing up.

“Give me a leg up!” Starkman said.

“Or you could give me a leg up,” Chase countered.

“You don’t trust me?”

“Fuck, no!”

“Fair enough, but you know the way out and I don’t!”

“Good point,” said Chase, bending down and clasping his hands together for Starkman to use as a foothold. The American scaled the wall and disappeared over the top.

For a horrible moment Chase thought he wasn’t coming back, then Starkman stretched his arms down the wall. Another few seconds, and Chase had pulled himself up.

“Thought I was gonna disappear, huh?” Starkman said as he stood.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” Chase looked at his watch. Two minutes. “Shit! Run!”

They sprinted down the tunnel. Next stop, the Challenge of Mind, but at least he knew how to find the back door.

He rushed into the chamber and got his bearings. “There’s a secret switch in the wall,” he began, hurrying to the corner-

To find nothing but blank stone.

No hole. No switch.

No back door.

“Shit!” He darted the flashlight beam along the base of the wall, hunting for another little nook, some sign that the builders of this temple had varied the design.

Nothing!

“What is it?” Starkman demanded.

“It’s not here! There’s no fucking back door!” He looked back at the stone door blocking the exit, at the symbols carved into the wall above it.

The trough of lead balls was there, as was the metal scale, and the spiked grid suspended from the ceiling, ready to plunge and impale anyone beneath it if the wrong answer was given.

The answer…

Chase frowned, desperately trying to recall the memory. Nina had told him the answer after figuring out how the numbers worked. What was it, what was it?

Forty-two-

No, that was the fucking Hitchhiker’s Guide!

Forty!

“We need to put forty of those balls in there!” he said, pointing to the scale as he scooped up a handful of the heavy pellets. “Two lots of ten each! Fast!”

Starkman obeyed. “What if we fuck up the count?”

“We die!” Chase counted ten of the pellets and dropped them into the cup before grabbing another handful.

Starkman did the same as Chase counted off another ten. Twenty, thirty…

Forty!

He grabbed the lever, paused for a fraction of a second to hope that Nina’s math had been correct, then pulled it-

Clink.

The stone door moved slightly as the catch was released.

“I love brainy women!” Chase whooped. “Give me a hand!” They forced the door open.

Starkman was right behind him as they entered the last passage. “Now just run like fuck!” Chase yelled.

He couldn’t even spare a moment to check his watch, but he knew they were almost down to their last thirty seconds.

Into the main chamber of the temple, gold and orichalcum glittering all around them. But none of it mattered except the huge statue of Poseidon at the far end, and the flight of stairs behind it.

He hoped that removing the hidden switch in the last challenge was the only change the architects had made.

“Up here!” he gasped, taking the steps three at a time. The muscles in his legs burned, sweat stinging the deep cut in his calf, but he couldn’t stop now. “Back of the room, there should be a shaft!”

“Should be?” panted Starkman.

“If it’s not, sue me!” They reached the top of the stairs, the riches of the altar room shining around them, but the only thing of value to Chase was the shaft-

The bomb exploded.

The fuel-air explosion swept through the cavern with earth-shattering force. Temples fell, palaces were smashed as the shockwave expanded. And behind it came a swelling fireball, a fury that seared and melted everything it touched.