The soldier nodded and pulled the rope up for another throw.  Nakai, sensing more to come started to reach out to pull him back, but Soro stopped him.

    “Let him go,” he whispered. “Perhaps if they hurry . . .”

    This time, the soldier was able to grab the rope.  Trying to help, he tried to walk up the ramp, but the floor was too slick to even allow him to stand.  He finally had to lie on his belly and let his friend drag him.

    “Almost there!” he called to his friend who was now halfway up the ramp.

    Suddenly the ramp tilted up another six inches and the one pulling the rope froze, crying out again.  He tried to step back to get clear of the tilting stone, but his friend, only a few feet from him now, tugged desperately on the rope, “No!  Do not stop!  Hurry!  Hurry!” he whispered loudly, terrified of whatever would happen next.  His friend nodded and continued pulling on the rope.

    In all my observance of him, I have always marveled at Nakai’s senses.  If I did not know better, I would imagine he is a vampire himself.

    As before, he sensed it first.  He frowned, then stepped forward and looked past the soldier, down the ramp.

    “Get back!!” he shouted, reaching for the soldier.  “You have to—” But it had already started.

    The soldiers had just grasped each other’s wrists when the slab they were standing on tilted quickly until it was standing straight up and both men were spilled down to the bottom.

    The men screamed as they slid quickly to the bottom of the slab.  The slab stopped its tilt when it was straight up, but the men continued sliding and rolling to the bottom and ended up in a tangled heap where the first had landed.

    Though Nakai could not see around the slab, it seemed as if the whole ramp had not tilted.  The part he was looking at was only about six feet high.  He realized that the twelve-foot ramp must have been hinged in the center.  Only this half of the ramp had tilted, leaving a six-foot gap at his feet.  If not for that and the oil dripping down the slab’s surface, he might have tried to climb over it and rescue the men, as it did not reach all the way to the ceiling.  But, there was something else . . .

    “Are you all right?” he called out over the slab.  While the slab was tilting, he was able to see that it was at least four feet thick.

    “Yes,” came the muffled reply.  “Can you get us out of here?”

    “Yes!  Hold on, I—” he stopped, listening.  “Get back!  Get back!” he shouted, alarmed.  “Move all the way back to the wall—now!!” he stopped again.

    Watching all this, Nakai and Soro came forward, “What—”

    “Shhh!” Nakai whispered.  “Listen!”

    Even as he was speaking, he could hear it— “Oh no . . .” —the soft, grinding rasp of oiled granite against oiled granite.  The three friends and the remaining soldiers standing in the far doorway looked up to the top of the upright slab . . . and watched it slowly topple over and slam with a jarring crash onto the other half of the ramp.

    The remaining soldiers ran forward, but stopped, trembling, several feet behind Nakai and his friends.  The smell of their fear made me laugh out loud as I watched them.

    Helpless, they all watched as the huge slab raced down the bottom half of the oiled ramp.  With both surfaces oiled, two tons of granite rumbled the remaining twelve feet in less than two seconds.  With only the bodies of the screaming men at the bottom to stop it, the slab met the far wall with a sickening crunch that abruptly halted their screams.

    Everyone stood frozen for several seconds, not speaking, then the Wizard took a torch and shone it down the ramp.  Nothing was seen but the ramp and the end of the slab.