Malric stepped forward and froze. The floor beneath his left foot sank just slightly with his weight, and now attempted to push the foot upwards with spring tension. Malric placed his other foot on the tile to hold it down. He motioned Galron to step back, and then he sprang forward onto his stomach. He felt a rush of air pass by his head, and watched as a
huge blade rolled overhead and disappeared into a slot in the wall.
'By the gods of Erahorn, brother, that was close!' whispered Malric.
'Watch the center tile,' Malric warned Galron. Malric withdrew his blade, Sliver, from its sheath, expecting danger ahead.
The two thieves crept up a narrow spiraling staircase, into a corridorlined with heavy wooden doors and paved with eastern furs and weaves. They were still several levels beneath the ground.
Malric stepped forward into nothingness. For an agonizing moment he swayed on the lip of the pit, watching the carpet that had covered it fall into the darkness below...