Even after he was on the floor, his eyes remained fixed on Parker, glaring, yellow. Then, little by little, the yellow flames began to go out.
In the silence were two sounds. The first, Mercedes, whispering. "'Ave I paid my debt, Beel? I tried."
"You have paid it," Parker said.
The other sound was that of the old priest beginning the prayers for the dying. He had laid aside his spear. Now he was kneeling again, his voice lifting as he prayed even for those who had mis-used him.
Then there was another sound, voices shouting in the distance. The men who had run from this room were trying to regain their courage, trying to find the will to come back again.
Parker moved to the girl who sat at the key board.
"Effra, my dear, if you would—"
Catching his idea, she nodded. Her fingers lifted the image of an alligator from its niche.
Parker saw the 'gator waddle from this room of mystery and of magic, from this room of lost science, from this forgotten laboratory of a vanished race.