At the base of the ramp it looked like the building of a new wall had begun. The materials used were not the finely honed blocks from other parts of the room and looked more rough-hewn, with each piece about five feet cubed and weighing many tons. This newer wall was not for decoration; it looked hurriedly built and was more fortified than its predecessor.

There were also three stone pillars, each about eight feet in height that stood facing the door they had just passed through; heavily corroded metal rings hung from their front.

“This is a wonder of architecture. You know, everyone wondered where the Romans got the skill to build a giant domed building that defied analysis for centuries. But this . . . this is even bigger.” Matt was twirling slowly in the centre of the room, trying to take it all in.

“It looks like some sort of arena.” Aimee was scanning their surroundings and moved to the centre pillar for a better look. Around their bases the stones were darker, stained even after all the passing millennia.

Matt was moving busily around the walls, running his hands over the glyphs and moving his lips silently as he tried to draw out their meaning. “An arena? No, but close, more like an altar—and a sacrificial one at that. Most cultures had myths and stories about creatures from their own version of hell, and the Aztlan legends don’t appear to be any different. They look like they had a rich mythology, filled with demons and gods of the netherworld. The only difference was, their monsters turned out to be real. They were offering up their slaves to Qwotoan to appease him. I’d say they came across each other when they were excavating their basements and regarded him as the ruler of the underworld—their very own devil made flesh.”

Matt read from the wall. “OK, here we go ‘Those who join with Qwotoan shall live with him forever and shall return as his servants.’ I think we’ve seen what this refers to through the ability the creature has to mimic things it has devoured.” Matt moved a bit further around the walls. “To keep him in check they tried to appease him with monthly offerings, but he became ever more demanding. That’s the problem with some gods; they’re never satisfied with just one virgin, are they?”

“Not funny, Matt, it’s horrible.” Monica hugged herself at the thought of being tied to one of the stone columns while giant tentacles came through the open doorway.