10 – Aftermath by Asprin, Robert

Samlor could not discern a difference in the polish of the black marble from that of the rest, but the way it blurred the light which the others had mirrored proved what would have been uncertain under any other conditions.

He tried the stone with the tip of his right little finger; the rest of the hand continued to grip the hilt of his long knife. The block didn’t give to light pressure, neither downward nor on either of its horizontal axes, but it didn’t seem to be as solid as stone cemented to a firm base ought to be.

“Is there something the matter with the floor, here?” asked Khamwas, resting easily on his haunches.

Samlor would rather that the Napatan keep an eye out behind them, but perhaps he couldn’t do that and also hold the staff where it was useful. The glow was better than nothing.

Besides, he doubted that any danger they faced would be as simple as a man creeping upon them from the darkness.

“This block doesn’t have the same sheen as the others,” explained Samlor as he stood up slowly. “It’s not on any path, particularly, so maybe it’s been sliding or, well, something different to the rest.”

He stepped gingerly on the block, which was only slightly longer in either dimension than his foot. By shifting his weight from toes to heel and then to the edge of his boot, the caravan master hoped he could induce the marble to pivot on a hidden pin. He was poised to jump clear at the first sign of movement,

There was none.

Well, then … if he pressed the block toward the wall-

Samlor’s hobnails skidded, then bit into the marble epough to grip as he increased the weight on them. The black stone slipped under the molding with the silent grace of mercury flowing.