Angelfire
Page 63
"Let's get the sarcophagus inside before anyone sees us," Nathaniel said.
He and Wil lifted the box and carried it inside, setting it gently down in the middle of the main room. They had some trouble finding a spot free of the rubble our training had created.
"What do we have here?" Nathaniel asked no one in particular as he ran his fingers down the top of the box. "The seal of Azrael, as I'd thought. There's something in Enochian around the seal. But I can't read the divine language. No one can. What else do we have? Cuneiform."
"Can you read that?" I asked, looking at the strange markings. "Cuneiform is Sumerian, right?"
"They developed it, yes," he answered, picking a bit of dirt off a glyph. "But cuneiform evolved greatly over thousands of years and this is different from the Old Assyrian script I know best."
"So you can't read it?" I asked, disappointed.
"Not accurately right now, but I wil . I just need some time. I'm guessing that it's from the nineteenth century b.c., based on some of the most frequently occurring glyphs."
My jaw dropped. "That old?"
"How long do you think it wil take you to translate the glyphs?" Wil asked.
"Couple days," Nathaniel answered with a shrug. "I have an idea of where to start. I'l let you know."
I looked at the sarcophagus. Something ancient and evil was sleeping within. I almost didn't want to speak too loud, in case it might wake up. It needed to be destroyed before that happened.
Something prickled along my skin like tiny spiderlings. I could feel the Enshi's presence beneath the stone lid, his power rol ing across the floor like a thick fog, clouding my vision and my thoughts. A voice whispered to me, the echoes of some phantom whispering from deep inside my mind, drowning my senses. I lifted my hand and my fingers traced the lid.
Wil grabbed my wrist, and I snapped my eyes up to his. The concentration with which he studied my face made me wonder if he was trying to see through my skin straight to the bone.
"Are you al right?"
"Yeah," I said. "I can feel him in there."
"I know," Wil said, his expression dark. "I can sense your fear." He pul ed me close to him in a move that felt utterly natural. "I don't think you should touch it."
I didn't object. Whatever was inside that box wanted me. I could feel its lul ing voice stil creeping inside my skul , so hard to resist. There was a frightening urge inside me to lie across the top, to climb in, to get as close as possible. I shuddered and forced myself to look away. I held my winged necklace in my hand, concentrating on the warmth of the pendant as if it would protect me.
"How do we open it?" Wil asked.
Nathaniel knelt to examine the lid more closely. He scratched at the seal before standing. He pushed the lid as hard as he could, but it didn't budge. He shoved again, even harder. Stil , nothing.
"We should just burn it," Wil said.
"We can't burn it," Nathaniel sighed. "It's made of stone. Let me figure out what the inscriptions say before we do anything. Sit tight. I'l figure this out."
I wanted to believe him, I wanted to trust him, but I gazed upon the sarcophagus, watching the beautiful Enochian symbols vibrate and sway while nothing else moved. Between my fingers my necklace pulsed. I didn't think the others could see what I saw and or hear the humming inside my head. The gentle voice became more insistent by the second, until I could just make out the alien, childlike voice in the back of my mind.
"Pre-e-eliator . . ."
22
I FILLED MY HANDS WITH COLD, SLIMY INNARDS and dumped them into the kitchen sink. My unfortunate pumpkin had final y been gutted and now sat waiting for me to carve him some eyes. Kate was already carving her own pumpkin's fangs, and Rachel was even slower than I was, stil scraping away at the gooey guts. I watched with unease as Landon scooped as much of the pumpkin mess out of the sink as he could and put them in a popcorn bowl.
"What are you planning to do with that?" I asked warily. If he threw them at me, I'd kil him.
"You'l see." He took up the serrated knife and began carving a squinty-eyed face with a large O-shaped mouth on his own pumpkin. He took a handful of guts and let them glop through the top of the pumpkin, positioning the mass until a good amount spil ed out of the mouth and onto the counter. He stepped back, beaming and grinning wide. "Look! He is hammered drunk."
I looked at the mess in disgust. Now that he spel ed it out for me, I could see the sickened expression of the pumpkin and the "vomit" ejected onto my countertop. "Bril iant. Real y, Landon."
Kate glanced over and laughed. "Yes! That is awesome!"
"Oh, hel ," Rachel groaned. "That's so lame."
"It's awesome," Kate repeated, staring her down. "I think I might do that with mine. We need a couple beer bottles to go with them."
Landon made a loud, unintel igible sound. "You can't copy me, man. My genius should only ever be appreciated, never duplicated."
"That's not genius," Rachel noted. "That's just sick."
I carved a happy jack-o'-lantern face into my pumpkin. Despite my nightly extracurricular activities, I didn't real y like scary things. The jack-o'-lantern smiled up at me with blank triangle eyes and a blocky-toothed grin. Though he was adorable, he was severely overshadowed by the spooky vampire face on Kate's. Even Rachel's was better. Both of their pumpkins could beat the crap out of mine. In fact, I think they wanted to.
He and Wil lifted the box and carried it inside, setting it gently down in the middle of the main room. They had some trouble finding a spot free of the rubble our training had created.
"What do we have here?" Nathaniel asked no one in particular as he ran his fingers down the top of the box. "The seal of Azrael, as I'd thought. There's something in Enochian around the seal. But I can't read the divine language. No one can. What else do we have? Cuneiform."
"Can you read that?" I asked, looking at the strange markings. "Cuneiform is Sumerian, right?"
"They developed it, yes," he answered, picking a bit of dirt off a glyph. "But cuneiform evolved greatly over thousands of years and this is different from the Old Assyrian script I know best."
"So you can't read it?" I asked, disappointed.
"Not accurately right now, but I wil . I just need some time. I'm guessing that it's from the nineteenth century b.c., based on some of the most frequently occurring glyphs."
My jaw dropped. "That old?"
"How long do you think it wil take you to translate the glyphs?" Wil asked.
"Couple days," Nathaniel answered with a shrug. "I have an idea of where to start. I'l let you know."
I looked at the sarcophagus. Something ancient and evil was sleeping within. I almost didn't want to speak too loud, in case it might wake up. It needed to be destroyed before that happened.
Something prickled along my skin like tiny spiderlings. I could feel the Enshi's presence beneath the stone lid, his power rol ing across the floor like a thick fog, clouding my vision and my thoughts. A voice whispered to me, the echoes of some phantom whispering from deep inside my mind, drowning my senses. I lifted my hand and my fingers traced the lid.
Wil grabbed my wrist, and I snapped my eyes up to his. The concentration with which he studied my face made me wonder if he was trying to see through my skin straight to the bone.
"Are you al right?"
"Yeah," I said. "I can feel him in there."
"I know," Wil said, his expression dark. "I can sense your fear." He pul ed me close to him in a move that felt utterly natural. "I don't think you should touch it."
I didn't object. Whatever was inside that box wanted me. I could feel its lul ing voice stil creeping inside my skul , so hard to resist. There was a frightening urge inside me to lie across the top, to climb in, to get as close as possible. I shuddered and forced myself to look away. I held my winged necklace in my hand, concentrating on the warmth of the pendant as if it would protect me.
"How do we open it?" Wil asked.
Nathaniel knelt to examine the lid more closely. He scratched at the seal before standing. He pushed the lid as hard as he could, but it didn't budge. He shoved again, even harder. Stil , nothing.
"We should just burn it," Wil said.
"We can't burn it," Nathaniel sighed. "It's made of stone. Let me figure out what the inscriptions say before we do anything. Sit tight. I'l figure this out."
I wanted to believe him, I wanted to trust him, but I gazed upon the sarcophagus, watching the beautiful Enochian symbols vibrate and sway while nothing else moved. Between my fingers my necklace pulsed. I didn't think the others could see what I saw and or hear the humming inside my head. The gentle voice became more insistent by the second, until I could just make out the alien, childlike voice in the back of my mind.
"Pre-e-eliator . . ."
22
I FILLED MY HANDS WITH COLD, SLIMY INNARDS and dumped them into the kitchen sink. My unfortunate pumpkin had final y been gutted and now sat waiting for me to carve him some eyes. Kate was already carving her own pumpkin's fangs, and Rachel was even slower than I was, stil scraping away at the gooey guts. I watched with unease as Landon scooped as much of the pumpkin mess out of the sink as he could and put them in a popcorn bowl.
"What are you planning to do with that?" I asked warily. If he threw them at me, I'd kil him.
"You'l see." He took up the serrated knife and began carving a squinty-eyed face with a large O-shaped mouth on his own pumpkin. He took a handful of guts and let them glop through the top of the pumpkin, positioning the mass until a good amount spil ed out of the mouth and onto the counter. He stepped back, beaming and grinning wide. "Look! He is hammered drunk."
I looked at the mess in disgust. Now that he spel ed it out for me, I could see the sickened expression of the pumpkin and the "vomit" ejected onto my countertop. "Bril iant. Real y, Landon."
Kate glanced over and laughed. "Yes! That is awesome!"
"Oh, hel ," Rachel groaned. "That's so lame."
"It's awesome," Kate repeated, staring her down. "I think I might do that with mine. We need a couple beer bottles to go with them."
Landon made a loud, unintel igible sound. "You can't copy me, man. My genius should only ever be appreciated, never duplicated."
"That's not genius," Rachel noted. "That's just sick."
I carved a happy jack-o'-lantern face into my pumpkin. Despite my nightly extracurricular activities, I didn't real y like scary things. The jack-o'-lantern smiled up at me with blank triangle eyes and a blocky-toothed grin. Though he was adorable, he was severely overshadowed by the spooky vampire face on Kate's. Even Rachel's was better. Both of their pumpkins could beat the crap out of mine. In fact, I think they wanted to.
