AND THE TOMB OF ANUBIS
by Ethan Russell Erway
Copyright © 2011 Ethan Russell Erway
Smashwords Edition
This book is dedicated to Kara, Gabriel, and Caleb, my family.
Libyan Desert, Egypt
1995
Beneath the hot sands of the desert, west of the city of Edfu, a small team of archeologists descended into the cool passages of the underground. They were grateful to find relief from the sun's scorching heat, as were the men who carried down their supplies and equipment. These strong men guided large bags and crates down the dusty, winding passageways, their backs straining under the heavy loads.
This ancient labyrinth had been concealed beneath the protective desert sands for thousands of years. It had come to be known as the Necropolis of Anubis, a remarkable city of the dead which had once served the surrounding primitive people as a resting place for their loved ones.
Now it had been re-discovered, and was proving to contain much valuable information for those interested in the ancient history and hidden past of the Egyptian people of the region.
As the team moved slowly down to their destination, they passed numerous burial chambers and countless bodies, carefully entombed and sealed off in the walls of the caves and passageways around them. Most of these were common people, greatly loved and carefully laid to rest by their families and friends, yet common and simple people nonetheless.
Today, the members of the excavation team spoke excitedly to one another about the tomb's most recent discovery. Only a week before, the crypt of an ancient warrior, apparently a man of great importance, had been found. The crypt was remarkably well preserved, and promised a wealth of information for those examining it. This particular discovery had the potential to be one of the greatest archaeological finds of the past few decades.
Caught up in discussion about the work that lay ahead, the workers and scientists did not see the tall, attentive man who lurked in the shadows, following them as they descended deeper and deeper into the caverns. He had been observing their actions for a long time now, waiting to see if they would uncover the thing he was looking for, an artifact which he had been seeking for what seemed to him an eternity.
He was quickly beginning to lose patience. For months he had been containing his anger and biding his time, letting these fools perform the work of clearing out these chambers for him, but their work was moving along much too slowly. They were taking meticulous care not to disrupt or damage the things that they examined, but he cared nothing about preserving ancient history.
He watched the simpletons as they plodded slowly along, unaware of the power that lay so near their grasp.
If these insects did not serve their purpose soon, he would have to take measures into his own hands. With each day that passed he was becoming fonder of the idea of disposing of every one of them. It would be so satisfying to see them pay for making him wait.
Chapter 1
Near the village of Tarbet, Scotland, off the west shore of Loch Lomond, stood McGinty Castle. It's alluring landscape and colorful past made the place attractive to both historians and tourists, but as magnificent as the fortress was, Michael Belmont always felt perfectly at home there. In fact, he considered it to be a home away from home.
Michael's family resided in the small city of Prescott in central Arizona, but they were also extensive world travelers. His father was a cultural anthropologist, and his mother an archeologist. They were funded by a private party, and worked and travelled together to conduct their research. Sometimes Michael, who had just turned twelve years old, and his younger sister Abigail, who was nine, would go along with them, but more often than not they would stay with family or friends while their parents travelled. There were two places in particular that they considered to be "second homes."
Their Uncle Lincoln, or "Link" as they called him, lived in the nearby town of Sedona, and often kept and looked after them, but he did a fair share of traveling himself. He owned an antique store, and would periodically go out on what he referred to as "treasure hunts". He was apparently a very good bargain hunter, and would sometimes acquire historical artifacts to donate to museums. Much like Michael's parents, his uncle was highly knowledgeable about history, and sometimes joined their expeditions.
On other occasions, Michael and Abigail were sent to stay at McGinty Castle. Mr. Declan MacDonald, the current owner of the castle, was a great friend of the family. He was a historian as well, and specialized in buying and selling European artifacts. Michael's parents had been introduced to Mr. MacDonald years ago by his Uncle Link, who was a friend and business associate.
Liam MacDonald, Declan's son, had grown up knowing the Belmont children, seeing them at least once or twice a year during visits to Scotland, or when he and his father were visiting America. Liam was just a few months older than Michael, and the two considered themselves to be best friends.
Mr. MacDonald enjoyed having the Belmonts stay with him whenever they were able, and was glad to keep an eye on the children when their parents were away.
And so, here they were once again. Michael's family had just arrived in Scotland, and they were now on their way to stay with the MacDonalds. Both of the children were excited to visit the castle again, but they also had a bitter sweet feeling, because in a few days their mother and father would be leaving for several weeks on business.
As his father drove their small rental car through the countryside, Michael watched the rolling hills pass through his sight. The green grass was often dotted with the white, fluffy forms of black-faced sheep, and as they passed a herd of highland cattle, Abigail thought it might be fun to braid their shaggy ginger colored hair.
"Dad," said Abby in a suddenly excited voice, "are we going to be able to go on a hunt for the Loch Ness Monster this time?"
Mr. Belmont looked at his wife and smiled. He knew that the question would eventually be asked. "Not this time," he told her. "McGinty castle isn't all that close to Loch Ness, and we're going to be pretty busy over the next few days preparing for the expedition."
"Well I'd like to have at least some fun while we're over here," she responded.
"Abigail," warned her mother, "stop being a drama queen. You're going to have a lot of fun, just like you always do when you stay at the castle."
"Humph," responded Abby, crossing her arms and beginning to pout.
Michael gave her a broad smile, and she stuck out her tongue at him. He knew that his sister wasn't really that upset. Lately, she had become very skilled in feigning hurt feelings in order to get attention; at least that's what his mother had told him.
Michael's eyes returned to the book his father had given him before boarding their flight from America. It was called Memoirs of My Journeys and was written by Shamus McGinty. Shamus was Declan MacDonald's uncle, who had left him McGinty Castle in his will. Michael was reading a description of the castle from the book.
Come with me, as I walk the cobblestone street through the grounds of McGinty Castle. The smell of fresh cut grass lingers in the air, and the bonnie yellow wildflowers and purple heather bells accent the rolling green hills around us.
Look at the mighty centuries-old fortress looming above us, a monument to the rich history of our great Scottish homeland. The flags raised upon its mighty towers flap playfully in the wind, heralding a welcome to all friends, and a warning to all enemies.
Approach the castle. Touch the rigid stone wall, and hear its whispered tales of ancient battles, boasting how easily it once protected its inhabitants from every bloodthirsty invader.
Look now at the heavy wooden doors, take the cold metal rings in your hands, and pull them open. Listen to the hinges creek under their cumbrous burden.
Step inside with me, gaze at the antiquities which decorate the walls, ancient artifacts which I have collected and brought to the castle, now placed beside those things which have resided here for centuries.
Walk through the chambers and halls, and imagine for a moment what stories this dwelling could tell, if only it could speak, if only we could hear it. Imagine what secrets must be hidden within these walls, for those who are wise enough to unravel them.
Michael showed the passage to his mother, who also read it, and smiled. "Shamus McGinty was a very passionate man," she told him. "He was a bit full of himself, but very good-hearted and caring. Keep reading the book, you'll see what I mean."
In actuality Michael had already read through most of the book, and he was amazed at some of the places and adventures that Shamus McGinty had spoken of. He had written of safaris, archeological excavations, and political leaders and famous people he had known.
Michael wondered if he could lead a life as exciting himself someday. He still hadn't quite decided what he wanted to do when he got older. He loved to read, and he didn't mind traveling too much as long as he was seeing new and interesting places. He also liked to write stories and poems about the things he got to see while traveling.
Abigail looked out her window, and saw a familiar, small country tavern that the family had been to a few times before. "Daddy, I'm getting hungry," she whined. "Can we stop up here for lunch?"
Her father looked at his watch. "Hey, it is about lunch time isn't it?"
He pulled the car off the road, and parked in front of the tavern.
It was about two o'clock in the afternoon when the Belmont family arrived at McGinty Castle. Mr. Declan MacDonald had seen them coming up the drive and was out in the front yard waiting for them.
He was a tall man with a broad chest and chiseled chin. He was wearing a tartan kilt and Tam Hat with the pattern of his clan, and stood with his fists on his hips, a broad smile painted across his face. His English bulldog, Sir Nigel, sat beside him on the grass.
Michael and his family got out of the car, and as they approached Mr. MacDonald, Abigail ran to him, jumping into his arms as he scooped her up as easily as he would a puppy. She hugged him tightly around the neck. Setting her back down, he shook Michael's hand firmly.
"Michael, how are you son. I trust you had a good trip?"
Michael nodded his head. "It wasn't too bad," he said with a grin.
"Well, feel free to get some rest, or run around and stretch your legs. I know traveling does strange things to the body."
He shook the hand of Michael's father and gave his mother a hug.
"Where's Liam?" Michael asked excitedly.
"He's inside somewhere," said Mr. MacDonald. "Why don't you go on in and look for him."
"Thanks," said Michael as he ran off toward the castle. Abigail followed him.
They darted through the front door, which was already open, and began searching through the rooms and chambers where they thought they might find him. He wasn't in the living room or the library, so they looked in the kitchen, but he wasn't in there either.
Emma and Felecia Calderwood were busy making preparations for dinner. They were two sisters that had worked at the castle for years, although Michael didn't know exactly how long.
Emma, a short plump woman with rosy cheeks, let out a little squeak when she saw the two children come in, and dropped the potato and knife she was holding to rush over and give them a welcoming squeeze.
Her sister Felecia, the more refined of the two, was noticeably taller and thinner, but had the same warm smile and rosy red cheeks. She smiled at them warmly and ruffled their hair.
"So nice to see you both," she said. "You must be looking for young Master Liam. He was in here just a few minutes ago picking up some, er, supplies. Went off toward his room I believe."
"Thanks Miss Calderwood," said Michael as he straightened his hair.
"Hope you worked up a good appetite while traveling dears," called Emma after them.
They made their way off toward Liam's room, and as they came around the corner to the tower steps, they found what appeared to be his broken body lying across the bottom stairs. His neck was oddly contorted, his eyes were wide open in a look of surprise, and his tongue was hanging out of his mouth. His head rested in a small pool of what Michael instantly recognized as tomato sauce.
Abigail gasped and let out a pointed scream, just as Liam began to shake with suppressed laughter. He rolled across the floor and jumped to his feet, as Michael began to chuckle softly.
"You JERK," yelled Abigail. "What did you do that for?" She rushed toward him with a raised fist. "It isn't funny!" she said, punching at his arm while Michael held her back.
"Calm down," he laughed. "It was only a joke."
"Well I'm glad the two of you enjoyed it," she barked at them. Then glaring at Liam she said in a measured voice, "You'll pay for that."
"So how have you two been?" asked Liam, ignoring her.
"Pretty good, how about you," responded Michael.
"Never better," he said happily. "I'm sure glad to see you, it's been a little boring around here lately, but now that you've arrived we're going to have loads of fun."
"You live in a castle," said Abigail sarcastically, "how could you get bored in a place like this?"
"Well, there haven't been many other kids around. I only have a few friends that live nearby, and they've been off on vacation. I have beaten a lot of video games lately though, which is good."
"Sounds like a waste of time to me," said Abigail grumpily.
"What's gotten in to her?" Liam whispered to Michael. He just shrugged and rolled his eyes.
"Well, what do you two feel like doing? I know you've had a long day, so do you want to rest or do you want to do something fun?" he asked, anticipation on his face.
"Whatever," said Michael. "I'm a little groggy, but I'm up for just about anything."
"Let's take a walk down to the loch, does that sound good?" asked Liam. "Maybe a little later tonight we can play games or something."
Michael nodded. "That sounds fun."
"Let me clean up this sauce before the Calderwood sisters string me up," said Liam.
After the mess was taken care of, the three of them checked back in with their parents and headed down to the lake.
It didn't take long for Abby's mood to improve, and soon all three of them were laughing and enjoying themselves.
Michael opened his eyes and gasped for breath. Darkness surrounded him.
Rubbing his eyes, he swung his legs off the side of his bed, pulling his feet back a little after touching the frigid stone floor. He sat motionless for a moment, part of his mind still lingering in the world of dreams.
He had just been soaring through the clouds, the moist refreshing air filling his nostrils while the warm sun shone brightly above him. A dense green forest spread out across the mountains beneath him, far below.
Michael had often dreamed of flying, but now reality was swiftly setting in. He felt cold and was agitated by this sudden change of setting. He lay back down in bed, pulled up the covers and closed his eyes, hoping to return to the comforts of sleep.
Then he heard the noise again. It was the same noise he had heard just a few moments ago in his dream; the noise that had pulled him back into the uncomfortable world of reality. He sat up again.
What was that noise? Bagpipes?
Michael glanced at his alarm clock. 2:47 AM gleamed back at him in bright green numbers.
Why am I hearing bagpipes at this hour of the morning, he thought to himself. It must be Liam. He would be the only one crazy enough to practice bagpipes at this hour.
Michael had never heard or seen Liam playing the bagpipes, but he could think of no other explanation.
"Well, if it is Liam he better knock it off quick, or his dad will kill him," Michael said quietly to himself. Liam's father was a patient man, but not the sort who would put up with obnoxious pranks in the middle of the night.
The bagpipes sounded again, a bit louder than before, although they were still distant and faint. They had seemed much louder in his dream, but he knew he wasn't dreaming now.
Michael jumped down to the cold floor. The rug, which was normally lying beside his bed, had been removed for cleaning, as a few hours before his little sister Abby had spilled a large bowl of raspberry ice cream on it.
Michael put on his floppy eared puppy slippers and headed down the hall in the direction from which he thought the sound was coming.
His parents were staying in the old Lords and Ladies Chamber which was a few dozen feet down the hall. He wondered if they might have heard the music too?
It didn't get any louder though, so he headed back down in the other direction toward his sister's room. The sound still wasn't getting any louder, but he passed his Abby's room and noticed a dark corridor from which he thought the music might be coming.
In a large stone building such as this, where echoes abound, he thought to himself, the origins of sounds could be hard to pinpoint.
Michael had always considered himself fairly brave, but he wasn't about to go traipsing down a dark corridor in a strange castle in the middle of the night without a flashlight.
He quickly returned to his room to retrieve one, and then stopped by Abigail's room, poking his head in and shining the light on her bed. She was curled up in a ball under the covers, her long blonde ponytail strung over her pillow.
In a way, he hoped that she would be awake, and perhaps had even heard the music herself. He thought about waking her, but decided it would be a little pathetic to wake up his baby sister because of his own fear.
As he stood there, he noticed that the music of the pipes was beginning to fade away. He kept telling himself that the sound must be Liam playing a prank, although deep inside he didn't really believe it. Still, it was a more comforting explanation than any alternatives he could think of.
Not wanting to lose his chance to discover the source of the music, he returned to the corridor and shined his flashlight down into the darkness. It had brand new batteries and was very bright, but he couldn't see the end of the hall.
He stood still and attentive for a while. He was confident that the sound was coming from this direction, because it seemed just a little louder as he stayed there listening to it.
Taking a deep breath, Michael decided to set off down the corridor and find the source of the piping. He walked slowly and quietly, often shining his light back behind him and taking a look to ensure that nobody could sneak up on him.
He passed many doors, most of which were locked, some leading to empty rooms, but still the music appeared to be coming from down the corridor.
A wide variety of artifacts and paintings were dispersed along the walls, and there were a few suits of armor and some antique chairs, and other small pieces of furniture as well. Almost everything was covered with cobwebs and looked as though no one had paid it any attention in years.
Old books littered the hallway, placed here and there on shelves or furniture. Normally Michael, who had a great love for books, would have stopped to examine them, but he found himself steadily walking, intent on discovering the source of the music.
As he continued, he noticed that many of the paintings on the walls depicted odd and disturbing scenes. Some of them had strange creatures that Michael had never seen before.
Although he passed most of these without paying them much attention, he came to a portrait that grabbed his interest and without even realizing what he was doing; he had stopped to examine it.
The man in this portrait was a very dark and authoritative looking fellow, with thick eyebrows and deep-set eyes. He had an unmistakable bestial look about him, and an unpleasant demeanor. He reminded Michael of a wolf who had gone without a proper meal for a few too many days. The man was dressed in clothes from several hundred years ago, although Michael didn't know quite enough about history to be any more specific than that. In his hands he held a wooden staff with a black jackal's head on the end of it, it's lip curled up in a growl.
"It looks like that Egyptian jackal-god," Michael quietly muttered. He couldn't remember the god's name, although it was on the tip of his tongue. He was glad his father wasn't there to quiz him.
Speaking to the man in the portrait he added, "The funny thing is he has a much kinder looking face than you do."
Something else caught his eye.
The door next to the painting had a very impressive engraving of the moon carved right into the wood of the door. It was a full moon with clouds covering it slightly from both sides.
Michael reached down and tried to turn the door's handle, but it was locked. He then noticed that the handle didn't appear to have a keyhole in it.
"That's strange," he said out loud, and bent down to take a closer look. He couldn't find a keyhole anywhere on the handle or any other part of the door. "Maybe it's just stuck."
Putting his weight into the door, he grasped the handle tightly and turned with all his might, but it wouldn't budge.
He turned around, rested his back against the door, and took a deep breath. His eyes fell upon a curious looking tapestry, which hung on the wall facing the portrait.
The scene was a drab and dense looking forest, bathed in the gray light of a full moon. Black clouds swirled menacingly through the sky. In the middle of the forest was a clearing, in which a hideous wolf was violently attacking a young blonde haired woman. The creature was definitely a wolf, or at least nearly a wolf, but it also resembled a human in certain ways. The expression on its face was very human, not what one would expect to see from an animal. It was altogether covered in brown fur, but walked on its hind feet in an upright position.
The woman was screaming, as the beast had latched onto her arm with his jaws. Blood ran down the side of her long blue dress.
Michael frowned.
Gathered in a circle around the girl, a dozen more of the wolf men attentively watched the attack, eagerly waiting to join in. Diabolical, hungry looks were pasted across their twisted faces.
Michael found the scene very unsettling. "Werewolves? Why would anyone want something like this hanging in his home, even if it is a damp old castle?" he said to himself angrily.
His eyes returned to the portrait of the man who looked so much like a wolf. "I don't like your friends over here any more than I like you, ugly."
He had never seen artwork that he found more detestable, and wondered why Mr. MacDonald would be interested in having such a morbid display hanging in his castle.
He decided to continue on with his search down the corridor, and after a short time came to the base of a winding staircase. He stopped and listened again, but still couldn't hear the bagpipes. He did however, notice a slight draft that flowed coldly up the stairwell. It gave him the chills.
By this time, Michael was wide awake and did not have the desire to return back to bed, but the idea of getting lost in a creepy, unknown section of the castle in the middle of the night didn't appeal to him either.
As he was deciding whether or not to continue on and go up the stairs, he suddenly heard a shriek off in the distance. It was faint, like the piping had been, but there was something about it that once again chilled the blood in his veins.
The scream wasn't sharp and pointed like that of a woman being attacked; it was more of a drawn out, agonizing, crazy scream. It came from something that was terrified itself, and hoped to terrify others.
Michael stood very still and listened for a few moments, and then the shrieking stopped.
He looked again toward the ascending stairs. They now looked even less inviting than they had just a few moments before. He decided that it might be better to explore during daylight, when Liam could keep him company. Shining his light all around him once more, he cautiously proceeded back toward his bedroom.
Upon reaching the end of the corridor where he had first begun, he turned once again, looking down into its mysterious depths.
He thought for a moment about going and waking Liam so that they could explore together, but Liam would most certainly not appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night so that Michael could take him on a wild goose chase. He was almost certainly already familiar with this section of the castle.
Yes, he decided, tomorrow would most certainly be a better time to resume the adventure.
After checking on Abigail once again, he went to his own bed and pulled the covers up over his head.
Chapter 2
A Series of Unsettling Matters
When the alarm went off the next morning, Michael wasn't entirely sure he had ever gone back to sleep. His excursion during the earliest hours of the morning had left him exhausted. In a way it had all felt like an odd, surreal dream. He was painfully tired, but dragged himself out of bed, got dressed, and ran a comb through his hair. He checked his sister's room, which was empty, and then headed downstairs to have breakfast.
When he got to the dining room everyone else was already there, and the first thing he noticed was Liam's father pouring himself some coffee.
"I can get that for you sir," said Mr. Finnegan, the butler.
Mr. Finnegan was a short, burly man with a balding head. He had a perpetual expression on his face that could best be described as a hybrid of bemusement and constipation.
"Nonsense," responded Mr. MacDonald. "You tend to the eggs and bacon and I'll see to it that this gets distributed properly." He waved the coffee pot back and forth as if trying to conduct an orchestra with it.
"Very well Sir," said Mr. Finnegan, and he promptly exited back through the door that led to the kitchen.
Looking around, Michael saw his father sitting near the head of the table, and his mother seated beside him; she looked in his direction and gave him a little smile. Abigail, who looked like a miniature duplicate of her mother, sat next to her and bounced happily in her chair, anticipating the arrival of one of her favorite things in life, beloved bacon.
Sitting across from his father was a man whom he didn't recognize. He looked older than Michael's father, but younger than his grandfather. He was large and muscular, had a fairly dark complexion, salt and pepper hair, and was dressed in an expensive looking suit. He seemed to be sitting a bit lower than everyone else, and Michael noticed that he was in a wheelchair.
Upon looking up and seeing Michael, he nodded. His face looked kind, but also wore sadness.
"Ahh, Michael, I hope you slept well lad," said Mr. MacDonald "Come on in and have some breakfast. I don't believe you've had the pleasure of meeting my latest guest. Say hello to Mr. Aiden Osiris."
"A pleasure to meet you sir," said Michael as he reached out to shake Mr. Osiris's hand.
"The pleasure is mine," the man responded. His voice was deep and slightly raspy, and he had a firm grip. "You will forgive me if I don't stand up," he added with a wink. Michael let out a nervous chuckle and smiled back at him.
"Sit here with me Mikey," said Liam as he waved to Michael, motioning to the large wooden chair next to his.
The dining room table was long and elegant, and had ornate carvings on the corners and down the legs. It complimented the warm feeling of the room quite nicely.
The castle was full of such ancient items, as Liam's father was a dealer of antiquities. Many of the items in the castle were already there when Mr. MacDonald had inherited it, but over the last few years he had fitted it with countless historical items such as the table, which came from another castle somewhere in France.
As Michael walked towards the seat that Liam was still impatiently waving him to, his attention was drawn to the large stone fireplace in which a fire blazed, adding a bit of hominess to the large room.
"That was a pretty neat trick you played last night with the bagpipes," Michael whispered to Liam as he sat down beside him.
Liam gave him a puzzled look and frowned slightly.
"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about, it had to be you. Who else would try to pull a trick like that in the middle of the night?"
"What in the world are you going on about?" Liam retorted.
Michael shot him a disapproving stare. It reminded Liam of his school principle, who had accosted him last year for bringing his father's bulldog to class dressed up to look like the queen of England.
"We'll talk about it later," Michael whispered curtly.
Mr. MacDonald poured some coffee for Mr. Osiris, and patted him gently on the back.
He looked at Liam and Michael and said "Mr. Osiris here was just filling us in on some of the details of our trip before you lot came in. Please go on where you left off Aiden."
"Well, as I was saying, the necropolis to which we are traveling is located in the desert a few miles west of Edfu, Egypt. It was originally excavated in 1991, and extensive research was conducted as I'm sure you are aware, Declan. Your uncle Shamus was greatly involved in the process. His expertise and skill in archeological cartography was arguably unparalleled."
"What's archeological cart-grophany?" asked Liam.
"Archeological CARTOGRAPHY," his father retorted, "is the practice of mapmaking for archeological sites and excavations. And please don't interrupt our guest, Liam."
"Quite all right Declan," said Mr. Osiris. "I love to see a healthy curiosity for the sciences in a sharp young mind."
Liam beamed at his father, who raised an eyebrow and cracked a slight, sarcastic smile back at him.
"Liam," said Mr. Osiris, "when an archeological find is first discovered, it is absolutely essential that meticulous care is taken to make maps and drawings of every detail involved, no matter how minor. Painstaking work must be done to record the location and position of all artifacts, as well as drawings of the rooms. This is especially true for ancient sites such as those found in Egypt. The information gathered can be invaluable in regards to learning about the history, practices, religion, and various other details of a culture. Your great uncle was a world renowned master."
"Is that the same uncle you inherited this castle from Mr. MacDonald?" Abigail asked.
"Yes dear, it is," he responded. "He disappeared many years ago, and was eventually declared dead. He was a great man, it's a shame you never met him, because he really liked children. I spent a large part of my own childhood exploring the grounds of this castle, and he was always very kind to me. He never had any tikes of his own, and he willed me everything he owned, including McGinty Castle. But we digress. As you were saying Mr. Osiris."
"All right, where was I? Oh yes; now I remember. An entrance to the necropolis was discovered and excavation began in 1991, and work continued until the Egyptian government closed the site in 1995 when the senior archeologist and five diggers were mysteriously killed."
"Mysteriously killed?" asked Liam. "In what way?"
"Well, there was a partially collapsed chamber far underground that the men were clearing out. It was apparently the burial chamber of a greatly respected and decorated warrior. There were many weapons and military artifacts that had been preserved along with the body of the man. It was a tremendous find and the work was being done very slowly in order to preserve every item and ensure the integrity of the structure.
The team had nearly finished with the work when a passageway was discovered behind the sarcophagus. It led out of the burial chamber and into a small subterranean tunnel, just large enough for one man at a time to crawl through.
The team reported strange sounds and the glow of a dim green light emanating from the opening. Dr. Farley, the senior archeologist, wrote a short description of the events in his journal before he died. From his handwriting, you can tell that he was shaken by the experience. He doesn't mention his own fear, but records that the workers were scared nearly witless and refused to enter the passageway.
Dr. Farley sent one of the diggers to the surface to bring back some additional equipment and fetch his two assistants so that they could begin to explore the passageway, but when they returned, the Doctor and five workers were dead. They all had terrified looks frozen on their faces, and rumor has it that their eyes had all turned green. No other marks were found upon the bodies."
"Sir, when you say that their eyes had turned green, what exactly do you mean?" asked Michael.
"The color of their eyes had changed to green. A brilliant green. All of the men had previously had brown eyes, except for Dr. Farley, whose eyes had been blue."
Mr. Osiris stroked his beard for a moment, and then said, "But again, this is only a rumor. The details of the deaths and the state of the site have been kept very quiet, until now."
"Aiden, do you think the mysterious deaths could have anything to do with the Tomb of Anubis?" asked Mrs. Belmont.
Suddenly Michael remembered that this was the name of the jackal headed Egyptian god. The man in the painting was holding a staff that reminded him of Anubis.
"Come on Rachel," said Mr. Belmont. "The Tomb of Anubis is nothing more than a legend."
"Don't be so sure," she told him pointedly. "You know that references to the tomb have appeared in several of the ancient manuscripts we've come across lately."
Her husband rolled his eyes.
"I tend to agree with your husband Rachel," said Mr. Osiris. "The legend of the Tomb of Anubis is an interesting one, but some of the aspects of the story are very far fetched, and I'm afraid there's no real evidence for any of it."
"What aspects are far fetched?" Michael asked him. "I mean, what exactly is the Tomb of Anubis anyway?"
His father cut in. "Michael, the tomb of Anubis is supposedly the very place where the god Anubis would escort the dead through the veil to the afterlife. We know that it's only a myth because the ancient Egyptian gods aren't real, are they sweetheart?" This last part he said while giving his wife a patronizing look.
She stuck out her tongue at him.
"At any rate," said Mr. Osiris, ignoring them, "as you may or may not know Declan, your uncle Shamus was infuriated when the site was closed. He demanded that a more thorough investigation be conducted after the deaths of his companions, and he even volunteered to lead it himself. He also believed that the excavation should continue despite the unfortunate events. His requests fell upon deaf ears however, and the site remained closed."
"Yes," said Declan nodding his head, "I did know. In fact I spoke to him after the dig was closed and to say that he was infuriated about it hits the nail right on the head. It wasn't long after that when he seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth."
He got a very serious look on his face. "I've never told this to anyone before, but I think he may have re-entered the tomb to investigate on his own, and if he did, it appears he never came out again."
Osiris nodded. "You are not the first to suggest such a thing, but I can tell you that the main entrance to the tomb remained under guard and appears not to have been disturbed, so if that was the case he must have found another way into the necropolis that nobody else has yet discovered."
Mr. MacDonald stared distantly in silence, a contemplative look on his face.
"Is there a chance that Uncle Shamus is still alive?" piped in Liam.
"No," his father told him, "he was nearly eighty years old when he disappeared, and that was about seventeen years ago. Also, he wasn't the kind of person who would just disappear quietly without contacting anyone. He was too much of a people person, to put it mildly."
There was silence for a few moments.
"It's a strange story," said Mr. Belmont. "Aiden, do you have any idea why the government is now willing to reopen the dig?"
"Well, said Osiris, "Egypt has recently appointed a new man as the Minister of State for Antiquities. He is called Hasani Khalil. He is a very serious fellow and has never bought into the superstitious aspects of the story. Soon after he took office, an investigation was ordered to look into the prior events at the site. After much deliberation, the location was determined to be perfectly safe. As it turns out, the mysterious passageway discovered by Dr. Farley could not even be located."
"That sounds suspicious," said Mr. MacDonald. "How could the passage have just up and disappeared? Do you feel that an adequate investigation was done?"
"I should certainly hope so," said Mr. Osiris with a grin. "You see, I was a member of the investigation team."
"You know we respect your opinion Aiden," Mrs. Belmont told him, "So if you're confident that the dig is safe we have no reason to believe it's not."
"Thank you Rachel."
"If it's a safe place mommy, then why can't we go with you this time?" said Abby with a pursed lip. It sounded more like a statement than a question.
"We've already discussed this young lady. Your father and I are going to be extremely busy for the next few weeks, and the necropolis is no place for children." Then her voice softened a bit. "Mr. Finnegan will look after you for the next few days until Elizabeth gets here, and then in a few weeks you'll be able to join us in Egypt. If you're lucky, you may even get to go down and see parts of the necropolis." Abby hugged her tightly, but retained her pouty expression and red face.
Liam leaned over to Michael. "Who is this Elizabeth woman again?" he whispered.
"Her name is Elizabeth Harrison. She's my mother's best friend, they've known each other since high school."
"Is she pretty?" Liam asked with a smile.
"Well, I've always kind of thought of her as an aunt, but yes, she's actually very beautiful."
Liam nodded at him approvingly.
Breakfast was finally ready, and everyone ate and continued to chat about the days ahead. Michael thought about how happy he was to be gathered here with his family and friends, and how lucky they all were to have each other.
The air smelled fresh from the rain that had lightly fallen throughout the night, and the sun occasionally peaked out from the overcast skies above. Liam was escorting Michael and Abigail through the garden behind the castle. It was a very beautiful and impressive place, and Abigail always looked forward to spending time here during her visits with the MacDonalds.
Colorful flowers and mature trees made the garden a fascinating place to visit, but Michael's favorite part of the garden was the hedge maze.
"The gardener does an amazing job," complimented Michael. "I wish I had a place like this in my backyard at home."
"There are really cool places near your home too. Remember last year when we visited your uncle and went to Oak Creek Canyon and Slide Rock Park?" said Liam.
"Sure I do, but those places are miles away from my house. You get to just walk outside and come out here," retorted Michael.
"That's true," said Liam. "I guess I am pretty lucky."
"You're very lucky," broke in Abby. "Any kid would kill to live in an ancient castle and have a garden like this."
After walking and talking for a while, they came to a part of the maze that Michael couldn't remember ever having gone down before. He had been in the maze many times, and thought he knew it fairly well.
"Liam, what's down this way?" Michael asked him.
"Uh, oh, um, well, I don't really ever go down there," stuttered Liam. He now looked rather nervous.
"Why not?" asked Abigail.
He scratched his face. "Well, uh, I'm not sure I want to…uh, you wouldn't believe me anyway," he told them quickly.
"What is it?" Abby said with a giggle, as she began walking down the path backwards, happy to tease Liam.
"Uh, don't go DOWN there," he said with a startled, raised voice.
This only made Abby turn around and break out in a run. Michael and Liam both followed her. They ran down the path a short distance until it finally came to an end, opening up into a small green valley.
Abigail came to a stop, taking a look around her, and so did both of the boys. A bright blue pond could be seen off to their left, and a dense forest stood in the distance. A few dozen grass covered mounds protruded in the valley below them.
"What is this place?" asked Abby.
"The Fianna Barrows," said Liam in a cold voice. "It's the site of an ancient battle."
Abigail no more than took a step forward before Liam grabbed her arm. "HEY, THAT HURTS," she shouted at him.
"You DON'T want to go down there, it's NOT a safe place," Liam yelled back at her, letting go of her arm. His face was now a bright red color.
"Liam, what's wrong," asked Michael. "What's got you so freaked out?"
"This is an evil place," he said. "We don't belong here."
"What's so evil about it," asked Abigail. "I think it's beautiful."
"Just because something's beautiful doesn't mean it's good," retorted Liam. "This place is cursed."
"Cursed?" asked Michael doubtfully. "What's cursed about it?"
Liam just shook his head. He obviously didn't want to talk about it.
"If you don't tell us, then I'm going to go down there," said Abby in an irritated voice. She was angry with Liam for grabbing her, and wasn't about to show him any mercy.
"Look," he told them, now speaking a little more calmly "that's the last place my mother went before she died. It's the reason why she got sick."
"Liam," said Michael sympathetically, "why would this place have anything to do with your mother getting sick? That just doesn't make any sense."
"Believe what you WANT," Liam snapped and turned around to walk back into the hedge maze. "You can't say I didn't warn you."
Michael looked at Abby. She had a guilty, but unyielding look on her face. "Come on," he told her harshly and set off to follow Liam. "You need to work on your attitude."
"Who do you think you are, Dad?" she hissed at him. But she followed along behind him, sheepishly.
When their walk through the garden was over, Liam took Michael and Abigail for a bike ride along the shore of Loch Lomond. The sun was now shining brightly overhead, but the air was surprisingly refreshing and cool.
They all rode along the stony path as it ascended and descended over the small green hills. Michael enjoyed the sound of the bikes fat tires digging into the small rocks and gravel beneath him. It felt good to get out in the open air and exercise after having traveled all the way from Arizona the previous day.
After going a few miles, Liam noticed that Abigail appeared to be falling behind a bit, so he pulled over to a small, quiet picnic area down by the lake. The three sat under an oak tree and gazed out across the water. They rested for a few minutes in silence, taking in the peaceful scenery around them.
"Now what's all this piping business you were going on about?" asked Liam as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Weren't you playing some sort of joke with that bagpipe music? It woke me up in the middle of the night, and I tried to figure out where it was coming from, but before I could, it stopped. It had to have been you, Abby was sleeping and I don't know of anyone else who would be playing a stunt like that in the middle of the night."
"It wasn't me. Sorry to disappoint you but not all Scots play the blooming bagpipes," he said in a sarcastic tone.
Abigail picked up a flat, round stone and sent it skipping across the water.
"Well, what do you suppose I heard then?" asked Michael
"The way I see it," said Liam, "there are two possibilities. Either you have finally cracked for good, and one of those voices in your head has taken up music lessons…"
Michael narrowed his eyes in a look of disapproval.
"…or…you've heard the piper ghost of Argyll," he continued with a wry smile.
"Who's the ghost piper of Argyll?" asked Abby.
"He was a very unlucky bloke who had his hands cut off for playing the bagpipes. I can't remember why, maybe he wasn't very good at it. He is supposed to haunt Duntrune Castle, off to the north of Loch Crinan in Argyll. Don't know why you'd of heard him in McGinty Castle though. That doesn't make much sense."
Michael looked Liam straight in the eye. He could usually tell when his friend was joking around or trying to get him to fall for something, because Liam got a great sense of satisfaction from his own pranks, and usually gave it away by the look on his face. Michael didn't see that now.
"When we get back home, I'll have Finnegan tell you the story. I haven't heard it in years, haven't really thought about it until now," said Liam.
"Well I didn't hear anything last night," Abby stated with a frown. She didn't appear to be too keen on the idea of strange things happening at night while she was sleeping in a large, dark castle.
Liam looked at her, and could see the concern in her eyes. "Its just some silly story Mr. Finnegan told me when I was a kid," he told her. Liam had always liked Abby, and although he wasn't particularly pleased with her due to the morning's events, he didn't want to scare her with ghost stories.
"Well what about that corridor with all the horrible paintings, like the one with the werewolves?" asked Michael.
"Werewolves?" retorted Liam. "Maybe you have flipped your wig after all. We've no paintings of werewolves in the castle." He looked at Michael in a very interrogative way, as if trying to read his thoughts.
"Sure you do, I was there last night. It's where the bagpipe music led me. As far as I could tell it was coming from down that corridor."
"And just where is this corridor with all the strange paintings?" asked Liam.
"It's just down the hall past Abigail's room, before you get to the stairwell which leads down to the Great Hall."
Liam continued to stare at him, trying to take this in.
"Oh I see, now it's you that's trying to pull a fast one over on me. Getting me back for all those times I've had you going, are you?" He laughed and slapped Michael on the back.
Michael let out a dry, nervous giggle and performed a half nod. He wondered if maybe he was going a little crazy after all. It didn't make any sense for Liam not to know about an entire wing of the castle when he had lived there his whole life. Could all the events of the night before really have been a dream? He had never had a dream that seemed so real before, but maybe he was tired from traveling, and his mind was playing tricks on him.
He wanted to change the subject. "Well, lets get going. We can't sit around here all day. Are you ready to go Abby?"
She nodded and got back on her bike, and then the three of them continued on down the long rocky path.
Abigail felt as though she could hardly continue standing after the long bike ride along Loch Lomond. Michael was proud of her, because he could see how tired she was, but she hadn't complained or asked for mercy even once. He would make sure they went a little easier on her next time.
He wondered if he was the only big brother in the world who saw qualities that he envied in his little sister.
Michael and Liam helped her get situated for a rest on the couch, put some cartoons on for her to watch, and then went on a search for Mr. Finnegan. They wanted to ask him about the Piper of Argyll, but he was nowhere to be found.
Mr. MacDonald was in the kitchen preparing lunch.
"Hello boys. The haggis will be ready momentarily."
Michael winced.
"I'm only joking Michael, not to worry. You like steak don't you?" he said and gave him a wink.
"Yes sir, that sounds a little better."
"Well it's not quite ready. But don't run off too far." Then he held up his finger as he always did when suddenly getting an itch to proclaim an order. "On second thought why don't the two of you go and fetch Mikey's parents and tell them that lunch is nearly ready." Michael gave him a thumbs up.
"Da, have you seen Mr. Finnegan?" asked Liam.
"He went to the market to stock up on groceries," Mr. MacDonald responded. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason, just had a question for him," said Liam as he pulled Michael out of the room.
"What about your dad, does he know the story?" asked Michael.
"Maybe, but he won't tell us as much as Finnegan. We can talk to him later when he gets back from the market and he can tell us everything we want to know. Sometimes he pretends like you're bothering him, but it's all an act."
They started off down the hall to fetch Michael's parents.
"Now you can show me that mysterious corridor with all the gruesome paintings," Liam said, patting his friend on the shoulder.
"Right," said Michael, and he gave Liam a timid grin.
They reached the stone staircase that led up to the guest bedroom wing, and Liam said, "After lunch, I'll show you the oubliette."
"Oubliette, what's that? Sounds girlish to me."
"Oh yeah, well you wouldn't think so if you'd ever been put in one tough guy," Liam retorted. "Its kind of like a small dungeon where they used to keep prisoners. Well, sent them to die more often than not. There's a trap door off the old throne room that opens into a shaft down to the cell. Used to be some spikes at the bottom sticking up out of the ground, really ruin the day of anyone unlucky enough to land on one of them."
Michael got a visual image of this and winced in sympathetic pain.
Liam noticed. "I agree," he said.
They got to the top of the stairs and soon came to the section of wall that had been opened up the night before. A solid stone wall was all that Michael saw. He quickly turned his gaze back in front of him so as not to alert Liam, who seemed to have forgotten about the corridor in his excitement over telling Michael about the oubliette.
"Da just had the thing cleared out a few months ago, you wouldn't believe the amount of bones they pulled out of there. Pretty gruesome business."
They arrived at the Lords and Ladies chamber, and Michael knocked on the large wooden door.
"Come in," called his mother. Michael opened the door and the two boys entered the room. His father was sitting at a wooden table with some maps of the excavation site spread out before him. His mother was standing at the other end of the room looking out of the window with her hands behind her back.
Liam moved excitedly to the table to take a look at the maps, but Michael walked over to his mother.
"Hey guys, did you enjoy your bike ride?" she asked them.
Michael nodded. "Abby did great, we wore her out pretty good though."
"She's a pretty tough little gal," said his mother. "It's nice of you and Liam to let her tag along. I know she can be a pest. Just keep in mind that she takes it pretty hard when your father and I travel."
"I know," he said. "She was a being a kind of mean to Liam earlier today. He got a little upset actually."
"What happened?"
He quietly told her about their walk through the hedge maze, and how Liam had reacted to the valley of the Fianna Barrows.
"Yes," she said softly, nodding her head up and down slowly. "Liam believes that place is cursed, because he believes the barrows to be located on a faery path."
"A faery path?" he questioned her. "What the heck is a faery path?"
"Exactly what it sounds like," she responded. "It's a kind of trail, or road used by faeries. Liam's father told us that he believes his mother was cursed by the creatures that live in those woods, because she broke their rules by entering unwelcomed into their territory."
"That's one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard," said Michael with a frown.
"And that's why Liam didn't want to tell you about it. His mother was American, and she didn't believe the old stories, so he probably thinks you and Abby wouldn't believe them either."
"He'd be right. Do you believe them," he asked her.
"No, Michael. Liam's mother died because she got cancer, not because she was cursed," she said with a sad smile. "But, I do believe that there are many strange and beautiful things in this world. And I know for a fact that Liam's mother believed that too."
Michael thought about all this for a moment in silence. He knew that many of the people in this country were superstitious, but he had a hard time wrapping his mind around something as strange as a belief in faeries.
"So what are you up to," asked Michael, "prepping for the trip to Egypt?"
She nodded, and putting her hand on his shoulder, she led him over to the table where her husband was pointing out some things to Liam. "Take a look at these maps of the excavation site, Michael. It's amazing just how big the necropolis is."
Mr. Belmont took out one of the maps from the bottom of the pile and moved it to the top.
"Here is the city of Edfu, the home of the Temple of Horus." Then he moved his finger across the map to a location miles outside of the city. It looked like nothing more than a small area of rock and rubble. "The original entrance to the necropolis was found here. From the way the chamber is constructed however, I think there may be another way in from the Temple of Horus itself, someplace that hasn't been discovered yet."
"Wouldn't it be obvious?" asked Liam.
"No, not really, you'd be surprised how well a few thousand years worth of sandstorms can conceal things. Besides, the entrance from, or underneath the temple would most likely be kept a secret to deter thieves. It would probably be easier to discover it from within the necropolis, if it does indeed exist."
He then took out a detailed map of the catacombs. Michael was astonished at how big the place was.
Michael's mother put her finger to the map. "This is the first level. The other maps detail the chambers that go deeper underground. In terms of sheer scale, this is one of the biggest discoveries that exists in regard to ancient Egypt."
The boys were impressed, but they were also hungry. "Oh, Mr. MacDonald wanted us to tell you that lunch is just about ready."
"Great, I'm starving," said Mr. Belmont.
"Right, Mark," said his wife. "Sitting on your butt looking at maps all morning must have really taken its toll on you."
He looked at the boys and rolled his eyes. "Let's go eat."
Declan MacDonald turned out to be a pretty good chef, at least when it came to grilling. Like any man with pride, he took steak very seriously. He had spent some time in Texas during his college years, where he had learned the fine art of grilling. In fact, he considered these skills just as important as any other aspect of his college education.
Declan had met his wife Linda in Texas, and the two of them spent hours in the kitchen. Both loved to cook and spend time together. While Linda enjoyed baking and experimenting with new recipes, it was grilling that Declan enjoyed the most, and the sounds and smells of the grill always turned his thoughts to his beautiful wife and the time they had enjoyed together.
Before her death, nearly seven years ago, she had moved back with him to Scotland. Living in McGinty Castle had been a dream for both of them, and he was glad that she had gotten to experience it for at least a little while before her passing.