Dr. Edmund Crowsley knelt on the sandy floor, hat in his hand. "No... This can't be happening..." His grip nearly crushed the hat in his hand, and he shook with anger. He screamed in primal rage, even though he knew nobody would hear him. The cold stone walls of the pitch-black hallway echoed his screams from one end to the other, making it sound like the ghosts of the ancient past were shrieking back at him.

            He punched the stone wall in front of him as hard as he could, though he knew such an act was meaningless. The stone door that had just sealed off the hallway was at least a meter thick. And his archaeological team was on the other side, probably laughing at his foolishness. "They already seemed to know these ruins well... They set me up, the bloody bastards." The locals Edmund hired spoke little English, but they spoke money quite fluently. They knew he wanted to examine the crypt, to see the fabled treasure that lay untouched for nearly five thousand years. He should have known it was too good to be true. He should have known they would take his money and let him set off the ancient tomb's traps. Later they would probably blow the stone slab apart with dynamite so they could progress deeper and take the treasures for themselves. Edmund started wondering just how many other archaeologists had fallen for the same trap, and if he would find their dusty bones somewhere in this very hallway.

            "Idiot. I'm a bloody idiot. Eight years at Oxford for this."

            His brain finally realized the pain radiating from his knuckles. He could feel the blood making his khaki pants wet but he couldn't see anything in this light. He had a flashlight, but its batteries were already nearly dead when he pulled the damned lever and the room began trembling. He knew he had to find another source of light if he was to find any way to escape. He shook his canteen hanging at his side. Nearly empty. He wasn't carrying any food on him, either. He figured under the circumstances he had about three days to live. Three ways to try to escape an ancient Egyptian tomb that was trying to kill him.

            And what then? Even if Edmund was able to miraculously find an exit to the surface and escape, would the locals he hired be up there waiting for him, just to make sure he was dead? Even if they weren't, certainly the desert itself could end his career indefinitely.

            "One problem at a time," he reminded himself.

            His first problem was light. He needed to find a way to make light to cover his flashlight's duties. The thought of stumbling around in the dark for the last three days of his life didn't sound at all appealing. He remembered he saw ancient torches lining the hallway before the trap went off. Incredible the wood has survived this long, his academic side noted. He stood up and felt around for one. The ancient Egyptians weren't as tall as we are today. The torches should be at about chest level... Finally his hand brushed against one, knocking it from its ledge and sending its clattering sound echoing throughout the hallway.

            Edmund knelt down to the torch and pulled out his flashlight. He reached inside his shirt pocket and produced some crumpled notes. He put the paper on top of the business end of the torch, still dry from thousands of years in the air-tight room. He felt around until he felt a small stone and used it to break the glass lens on the flashlight. He reached into the cavity underneath to touch the bulb. This task required too much finesse for the stone, so Edmund gritted his teeth and carefully applied pressure with his thumb and forefinger to either side of the light bulb until it gave a pop and broke into a hundred tiny shards.

            The archaeologist stifled his cry as the glass embedded itself in his fingers, but promised himself he'd get them out as soon as he had some damned light. He felt into the reflective cone with his good hand and carefully bent the tiny wires of the lightbulb until they nearly touched. He took the paper and touched it to the wires and flicked the flashlight on. No light came forth, but he could hear tiny sparks. Soon he started to smell smoke, and within seconds his carefully-recorded notes burst into a lovely bright flame. He blew on it, hoping desperately it wouldn't go out prematurely, and carefully transferred the flame to the torch. The ancient tool came to life and nearly blinded him with its intense light.

            Edmund held the torch high and allowed himself a laugh. "Bow to me, O great tomb, for I have become Ra, bringer of light!"

            When his eyes adjusted to the new, flickering glow he could see once more the dusty hallway that led on for about a hundred feet. He plucked the larger shards of glass out of his fingers and gathered the other torches under his arm, not wanting to run out of light as he searched for a way out. He slowly made his way back to the sealed doorway decorated with hieroglyphics and the damned lever on the floor next to it. He tried briefly to decipher the meaning of the ancient symbols, but it was of an irregular script that deviated from the hieroglyphs of the era it was built. The only part he could clearly translate was an ultimatum: "--answer or die."

            "Most peculiar," Edmund said, like he had shortly before the trap originally went off. He found no instructions, no clues as to what needed to be done next. Is this corridor just a dead end? Just a way to kill would-be grave robbers? There had to be more. He wasn't seeing any bones. Acting on a hunch, he grabbed the lever, wincing in pain as the remaining glass shards dug in deeper, and pushed it the other direction.

            The chamber rumbled. Dust and sand rained down from the ceiling and Edmund could hear stone grating against stone. He looked excitedly towards the door that had trapped him inside, but to his dismay there was no light streaming through the far entrance, no locals, no moving rock. He turned back around and nearly dropped his torch in surprise. The carved doorway behind him had vanished, and a completely dark void had taken its place. He peered in cautiously and looked around. There were stairs leading downward in front of him, aligned in a straight line and disappearing in the surrounding darkness. The walls and ceiling that surrounded the stair seemed to devour all light.

            Edmund made one last check of the hallway. It was clear the stair was the only way out. "Once more into the fray, I suppose," he rued, and descended.

            The air grew colder with each step, and soon the light and warmth from his torch was growing feeble. He couldn't make out the echoes of his footfalls the passage was so long. He kept descending, step-by-step into the pressing darkness. At one point when he stopped to transfer his flame to a fresh torch and take a sip of water, he looked both ways down the staircase and could not see either end. It was like the world had disappeared completely and all that remained were these eternal stairs. His breath fogged in the flickering light. The air was completely still. The archaeologist pressed onward, hoping against hope this wasn't another dead end.

            There. Something in the distance. Edmund rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing right. Could that be... light? He picked up his pace, his torch blazing excitedly, and the point of light at the bottom of the stairs grew gradually larger. Before he knew it he was stepping into the rectangular portal of light into the room beyond.

            After his eyes adjusted, he looked around and gasped. The light was filtering down from cracks reaching far above to the surface. The room itself was plain -- stone walls, and two closed doors. What was impressive, however, was the immaculate statue of a sphinx sitting on a pedestal between the two doors. It was nearly the size of an elephant, chiseled lines still crisp after five millennia. Its lion's body sat in a regal position, human head raised confidently, an almost smug look on its face. He moved closer to examine it.

            "HALT," a voice boomed.

            Edmund cringed and dropped his torch. He looked around the chamber. There was nobody in sight. "H-hello?..." he called out. No response. The hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up. He turned to the statue of the sphinx.

            Its eyes were staring right at him.

            "BOW," the sphinx commanded.

            Edmund fell to his knees, trembling all over. That statue can talk? But how? What ancient magic is this??
            "You may rise," the sphinx said after a pause. Edmund slowly got to his knees but rose no further. He examined the statue carefully. It had changed positions. He quickly realized that the sphinx was no mere statue -- that it was a living creature, so old it looked like stone.

            "Speak!" the powerful being said. "What brings you to this resting place? Do you mean to rob my king of his possessions?"

            "Oh no, most gracious and honorable sphinx!" Edmund lauded. "I am but a humble historian. My journeys have led me far and wide, and I have come not to take but to lay eyes upon the magnificent tomb of the ancient pharaoh who is enshrined here... But tell me, how do you know English?"

            "I have guarded this tomb for over five thousand years. DO YOU THINK I HAVE SPENT MY TIME IDLY?"

            "M-most certainly not, o wise one! You must surely be the master of all knowledge." He knew that against such a powerful creature he would stand no chance. His best bet for escape was certainly not by angering the sphinx.

            "Indeed," the sphinx mused, crossing its paws in a relaxed position. "You are quite unlike the others who have come here. It seems in the millennia since my creation the art of reverence has not been wholly lost. I tell you this: that which you seek is not far. In one of the doors behind me lays the magnificent burial chamber of my king, as well as passage to the surface world. But be warned: behind the other door lies a trap most deadly. You will not know it to be the false chamber until it is far too late."

            "A most cunning defense, o great one," Edmund said. "The architects of this place were certainly the most advanced of their day, and for endless days beyond. But surely a burial chamber of such magnificence was meant to awe and be seen by others?"

            "What lies beyond is for the eyes of the underworld. But you are, as I'm sure you've noticed, not far from meeting the underworld yourself. So I will tell you which door the golden chamber lies behind. All you have to do is answer a simple question of mine."

            The archaeologist smiled. He knew every legend and riddle of sphinxes ever recorded. "Ask all your riddles, most wise and cunning sphinx, and you will see that I am more than worthy. I will answer any number of questions you see fit to ask."

            The sphinx leered at him. "I have just one question for you: Are you ready?"

            Edmund gulped. "Am I ready for what...?"

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