“Time is running out, my friend.” He tossed the sack to Mark, who caught it and looked down curiously. “Open it!”
Mark obeyed. He untied the string with shaky hands and peered into the bag. He gasped.
John’s eyes turned cold. “Yes, there they are.”
Mark looked up.
“Now, tell me,” John continued, “descendant of King Ealdakin of Magnus. What shall you choose? Your friends or the treasure room?”