Cade cursed under his breath and brought up the map of the Codex.

But no, the cluster of tombs was tightly packed together, looking as if they were inside Imhotep’s tomb. It seemed impossible, unless they were somehow built into the steps on either side of them—but there was no sign of any entrance.

“Let’s open the sarcophagus,” Cade said, struggling for ideas. “See what’s inside. Sometimes they had more of them, like a Russian doll. If one of them is made of solid gold or something…”

There was a wet thudding sound. Then another, and another. Cade turned in its direction, his heart in his mouth. An object tumbled down the steps, rolling to stop at their feet as legionaries scattered out of the way.

Amber choked with horror as a tongue lolled and vacant, half-closed eyes stared up at them. It was a head. The head of their lost legionary.

“How kind of you to trap yourselves for us,” called a voice from above.

It spoke in heavily accented English, but Cade knew who it was. The slavers.

Already, the legionaries were rushing to form a wall, but there was no thunder of enemies charging down the stairs. The voice was distant, coming from the very top of the stairs.

“Your friend there was very forthcoming when we caught up to him,” the voice went on, echoing eerily in the vast space. “Why, he even told us what language you contenders speak. I am speaking with Cade, am I not?”

There were no lights in the darkness, but Cade could hear the scraping of metal as armored men moved above.

“You have no chance,” the voice went on. “We have the high ground. No deals. Surrender, or die.”

“Move the sarcophagus,” Cade hissed.

Quintus caught his meaning and whispered instructions to the men. Within seconds, a score of hands began to heave on the heavy wooden lid, scraping it back inch by slow inch.

“So kind of you to prepare your coffin for us,” the voice laughed. “But you presume too much. We will take you from here in chains.”

Still the coffin lid scraped, and Cade edged closer, letting his eyes stray casually over its contents. But it looked empty.

“Surrender, and live,” the voice called, now tinged with impatience. “You won the tournament once. Perhaps you can win again.”

“Fight, you coward!” a legionary shouted, his Latin words shrill in the emptiness of the tomb.

A thin laugh echoed back.

The coffin lid crashed to the ground, the sound reverberating around them. Amber nudged Cade.

“We need to get in the coffin,” she whispered.

“Are you nuts?” Cade muttered back. “We’ll be penned in.”

“Trust me,” she whispered. “Give the order.”

Every instinct in Cade’s mind told him they had to fight. To run up the stairs opposite the way they had come, to take the high ground back and fight. Instead, he pointed into the darkness above and spoke.

“Scan them, Codex!”

The drone shot into the gloom, and Cade roared for his men to follow him. He caught a glimpse of flashing blue, saw dark figures rushing down the steps.