Johnny tossed the flashlight aside—he wouldn’t need it anymore—and squeezed through the gap. As he passed into the an tak, that murmuring elevator-sound they had heard at the entrance to the drift seemed to fill his head with whispering voices . . . enticing, cajoling, forbidding. All around him, turning the an tak chamber into a fantastic hollow column lit in dim scarlet tones, were carved stone faces: wolf and coyote, hawk and eagle, rat and scorpion. From the mouth of each protruded not another animal but an amorphous, reptilian shape Johnny could barely bring himself to look at . . . and
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