There was a small opening at the top of the wall opposite us, but it looked much higher than it had just moments before. Lifting my finger, I pointed to it and started to mouth Something’s wrong to Dr. Hassan when I felt a heavy pull on my ankles. It was a squeezing sort of weight, like being caught in a boa constrictor’s clutches. I looked down and was puzzled to see my feet were buried beneath the sand. How did that happen?
I distinctly remembered the floor being hard-packed when we’d come in. Suddenly, my eyes flew to several objects. A heavy stone across the room was now one-third sunk into sand. Crumbling rock at the base of the wall was completely gone. And my bag, which I had thrown to the ground when we’d come in, was half buried.
It didn’t make any sense. I tried to pull my legs free but only sank deeper. The sand was now halfway up my shins. “Asten?” I cried in a panic, squeezing his arm.
“I know, Lily. It was a trap.”
“Dr. Hassan?” I called out, twisting to see him.
“I am here,” he replied weakly. He had sunk up to midthigh.
Turning toward the wall, I scrabbled for purchase, trying to reach something that would halt my descent, but my actions served only to speed up the process.
“Stop, Lily,” Asten demanded quietly.
“Isn’t there something you can do? Some sort of magic to get us out?”
“I have tried. From the time I first noticed the quicksand, when the room shook, I have tried weaving spell after spell. It makes no difference. The Dark One has cursed this sand. Once you are captured by it, it does not let you go.”
“But we’ll suffocate! We’ll die!”
“Yes. You will. As for me, I will spend eternity buried alive.”
“This can’t be the end! Why are you giving up? Surely Amon can save us!” I thrashed back and forth wildly and sank up to my chest.
“Lily!” Asten cried. “Moving makes it worse! You must remain still!”
Stretching my arms up, I desperately clutched his fingers, the pressure of the sand like a vise on my chest. But instead of Asten pulling me out, I dragged him down with me. I could no longer turn my head enough to see Dr. Hassan. Tears ran down my face as I hyperventilated. The sand crept up to my neck, my arms so heavy I finally dropped them. This was it. I was going to die a horrible death, one of the worst I could imagine.
All things considered, I would have preferred being crushed in the stone cube in the Valley of the Kings. At least then, I would have been with Amon. A slight tug on my hair tilted my head back. I had a few more seconds of breathing.
The sand stretched gritty fingers over my scalp, filling my ears. I managed to suck in a huge breath, and then it was over my mouth, creeping over my forehead. I closed my eyes, and sank into the viscous abyss.
Drowning in quicksand is a little better than drowning in water. There is no thrashing, kicking, or head shaking. No desperate struggle for the surface. No glint of sun above to beckon you not to give up. Just a quiet shrouding. An inevitable sinking, as if your body has been bound in a warm cocoon.
I would imagine that the sensation is not unlike birth. The sand slides upward, over your skin, which is disorienting since it feels like it’s flowing in opposition to gravity. Intense pressure squeezes your limbs and torso. Your lungs burn with fiery pain, but you wait, and wait, and wait, hoping, praying, and pleading for the travails to be over, wishing for that moment of delivery when the cold rush of air finally allows you to scream.
But then you realize that you aren’t dreaming. That this isn’t a birth, a becoming. No. Instead, this is an ending. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. The shifting sands lead nowhere. Waiting and holding your breath is pointless. You will be swallowed whole.