“So, you’ve been searching eighteen years for answers to why your father went missing, and you’re hoping this bag,” she said as she lifted it and set it on the table, “will give you those answers, yes?”
“I do,” Nathan replied with conviction.
“Then please promise me you’ll look at this as an opportunity for peace. I think you’ve earned it after all this time, have you not?”
He stared at Calla Lily. “You sound like Lillian.”
“Just remember, sometimes the answers you seek don’t always come the way you hope. You may find something entirely different. Either way, keep your mind open to the possibilities that may be beyond your understanding.” She laid her hand on his. “I only hope for your peace, Nathan.”
“Thank you, but if you don’t mind me asking, why would you be concerned with my peace? You don’t even know me.”
She scooted out her chair to leave, bringing Nathan quickly to his feet to assist her.
“If you should need anything while you are here in Havenwood Falls, my shop is down the street. Mihail, Irina, or Madame Luiza can show you. Otherwise, I wish you well,” Calla Lily said, extending her hand.
Nathan was taken aback as to why she didn’t reply, but assumed it was because their business was unofficially concluded. “I will make certain before I leave town to find you and let you know what, if anything, I have found. It has been a great pleasure meeting you.”
“And you also. Be well.”
Nathan watched as Calla Lily retrieved her coat and made her way to the door. When she was out of sight, he sat and stared at the bag. He ran his hands over the supple leather, but flinched when a spark ran up his arm.
“Everything okay?” Madame Luiza asked.
“Yes,” Nathan stammered. “I’d like to pay my bill, please.”
Madame Luiza shook her head. “No bill. Dinner is served with your stay. If you get hungry later, and are looking for leftovers, we’re up late around here. Just come on down, and we’ll fix you a plate.”
“You’re too kind.”
“Have a good evening.”
“You as well.”
Nathan reluctantly reached for the bag but was surprised when it didn’t shock him this time. He made his way upstairs, and when he got to his room, he set the satchel on the dresser. All this time, and now he didn’t want to open it. What’s another day? he thought.
Chapter 4
Nathan lay in the bed, staring across the dimly lit room at the satchel. He wanted to open it, but feared the truth, now that it was here within his reach. He rubbed his fingers together, remembering the shock it had given him. Was that part of the reason why his father was missing, or was it the altitude and dry air here in the mountains? Get up and open it, you idiot. All the answers you seek are right there. But what if . . . what if what? His internal debate raged until he finally sat up with a renewed determination. Nathan reached over and turned on the lamp on the nightstand, before deciding to settle this once and for all. He stepped over to the dresser and picked up the bag.
With the light beaming on the satchel, Nathan ran his hands over his father’s name, and when he didn’t feel a shock, he opened it slowly. Inside, it was like a time capsule of Samuel’s life. Nathan knew in an instant this was indeed his father’s bag. He pulled out a leather-bound journal and set it on the bed, followed by a stack of pictures from the dig, dated in his handwriting days before his disappearance. Nathan removed the elastic band on the stack and flipped through them. They were nothing more than images of artifacts and some of the other Egyptologists posing with their finds.
He then unwrapped the leather strap on the journal and opened it. Tears came to his eyes. There on the first page was the last photograph of him and his father together before Samuel had left for Egypt. Snow covered the ground, and they were sitting on a sled. He remembered the day vividly. They’d had fun going up and down the hills near the cabin they’d been staying at in the Catskills. Nathan was sad but grateful to have it back. Samuel was only supposed to have been away for three months when he’d left. No one could have ever predicted it would’ve been the last vacation they’d have together.
Nathan flipped through the journal pages, but nothing stood out. There were field notes and scaled drawings, along with slips of paper with hieroglyphics sketched onto them. Everything in there, besides the photograph of him and his father, was related to his work. Nathan flipped to the center, where the binding of the journal was broken and the pages lay flat, exposing a detailed description of a canopic jar unlike anything he’d ever seen.
Notation: Most jars are cylindrical and between five to ten inches tall and range in material based on the wealth of the owner whose remains are inside. This one is different. It appears to be two jars connected as one, while still maintaining its individual shape. It is made of alabaster with ribbons of red and orange running through it and stands nineteen and a half inches tall.
Nathan read his father’s notes and wondered, just as he had, why such a jar would exist. When it was found, it was sitting on a ledge with a dozen or so red stones carved like scarabs and a shimmering liquid no one could identify. Nathan ran his fingers over the ancient symbols to the right of the page. They were unlike anything he’d ever seen. He wondered if maybe they were the key to explaining the jars and the mysterious liquid. Nathan scanned the next few pages, hoping they’d provide some insight, but found nothing. He closed the journal and decided he’d research this later, after he returned to New York, where he had the resources to uncover more information.
Nathan reached into the bag again, this time taking great care when lifting the field camera out. It was lighter than he remembered, but then again, he was a boy the last time he’d had his hands on it. He set it on the bed and stared at it a moment before something at the bottom of the bag caught his eye—a stack of aged images scattered across the bottom. Nathan moved to pick them up, but flinched when he got another shock, similar to the jolt he had received when he had picked up the bag the first time. What the hell?
He lifted up the satchel and dumped the rest of the contents on the bed. The pictures scattered, leaving a few of them facedown, but two were facing up. A beautiful blond woman with pale eyes was dressed in a simple sheath gown and stood slightly off center, as if there was someone standing next to her just outside of the frame. Nathan poked the corner, and when it didn’t shock him, he picked it up. The woman in the image was innocent and childlike, but there was something else about her, something powerful and seductive. He flipped to the next image, but it was nothing but a blur. Nathan reached for the other ones, but they were only shots of canopic jars and some interior shots of the tomb itself—nothing of note. Nathan flipped back through the stack until he was looking at the young woman again. There was something in her eyes, but he couldn’t decide whether it was sadness or something else.
Nathan set the stack of photos on the bed and turned his attention back to the camera. He clicked the clamp and watched as the front fell open. He examined it carefully, looking for clues. The lens was intact, the cloth bellows were in working order, and the leather on the outside was barely worn. For all intents and purposes, the camera hadn’t aged or changed a bit. It was as if time hadn’t touched it in the least. The rack and pinion still moved back and forth to adjust the focus, and the automatic shutter still clicked. The camera was in perfect working order.
But Samuel had two identical cameras. One used film, while the other used glass plates. His father used both mediums, depending on his need. Nathan was unsure of which one this was, but it would be easy enough to identify—not because of the obvious features, but because his favorite camera was engraved with the Eye of Horus. It had been given to his dad as a gift before his first expedition. The eye was considered a sacred symbol, said to protect anything behind it. Samuel would go on and on about its power to keep him safe on his journeys. A lot of good it did him on his last tour, Nathan thought.
Nathan flipped over the
camera and found what he was searching for. There it was. The “all-seeing eye.” Nathan wondered but doubted if there would still be any plates secured in the back. Samuel used to say he preferred to use the plates because of the way they captured the subject, while generally using film for quick shots of artifacts instead. Gingerly, Nathan examined the back and found a plate still in place. As he examined it closer, he noticed something etched onto the glass. He pulled it out and moved it into the light. The girl from the photograph was once again staring back at him—same dress, same look on her face, but instead of the pyramids in the background, there was a halo image behind her.
“That’s odd,” Nathan said and pulled his glasses out of his suitcase.
He rubbed his fingers over the bright spot to see if it was merely a smudge upon the glass, but it wasn’t. Whatever it was, it was imbedded into the glass itself. Upon closer inspection, Nathan noticed a silvery liquid moving under the surface and used his fingernail to try to pry apart the plates to see what it was. The shimmery liquid poured from the slit between the pieces of glass and fell into his hand.
“Mercury?” he whispered.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice called out.
Nathan froze. Where had that voice come from? He was alone—or at least, he thought he was. He set the items on the nightstand and walked around the room with the mercury shifting and swirling in his hand. There wasn’t anyone here.
“Please don’t leave me. I’m here,” the voice spoke again.
Nathan was rattled now, and that was saying something, considering all he’d endured when it came to creepy and odd things. He was an Egyptologist, like his father, and had seen countless bizarre and strange occurrences, but this—this was out of the ordinary for sure.
“The glass. Pick it up and look at me.”
Nathan took care not to spill the mercury, but he didn’t want to continue holding it either. It had long been suspected that its chemical properties caused men to go mad, but he couldn’t imagine its effects would happen simply by holding it. Nathan found a small glass vase with a handful of wildflowers on the dresser and decided to pour the mercury into it, but as he started to tip his hand, the voice spoke again.
“No. Hold the liquid and the image,” she demanded.
Nathan adjusted his glasses and picked up the glass slide. There on the surface, as clear as could be, was the beautiful young woman he’d seen earlier in the paper photograph. She was smiling a soft smile and holding her hand up in a faint wave.
“Hello,” she offered.
“I’ve lost my damn mind,” Nathan replied.
She shook her head. “No, you haven’t, but I am so grateful to finally have someone who can see and hear me. Can you free me from this place?”
“Free you? What the hell are you?” Nathan stammered. “I mean, a figment of my imagination, for sure, but how—why?”
“I am trapped here in this prison, and I wish to be free.”
Chapter 5
“Trapped? Free? What?” Nathan exclaimed in rapid succession as he stared down at the woman talking to him from between the two glass plates. She was real, as best as he could tell, and seductive—lord, was she seductive. The thin gossamer-looking gown she wore showed all of her curves along with details he wanted—no needed—to block from his mind, but he was too bewildered not to continue staring at her barely covered skin.
“Please don’t be afraid. I do not wish you harm. I only ask to be released.”
“Released from what? You have to be a figment of my imagination.”
Nathan looked down at his hand and cursed. He was still holding the mercury. That had to be it. He dropped the glass plate onto the bed before hastily grabbing the glass vase. He pulled out the wildflowers, spilling the water out before pouring the mercury into the vessel. There, he thought.
He hesitantly glanced at the plate and watched as the female within slammed her fists against the glass. Nathan could see her, but could only faintly hear her cries for help. He eyed his hand and saw a thin residue of the mercury still coating his palm. He rubbed his hand vigorously onto his pant leg, and her voice fell silent. See, it was the mercury messing with my head. Nathan picked up the image and saw that she’d dropped to her knees and was sobbing into her hands. Nope, you’re still insane.
Nathan sat there for a few moments, watching her cry, and began to feel guilty for causing her such pain. He didn’t want to see his imaginary dream girl cry. Nathan ran his thumb over her hair and was shocked when she moved. She dried her tears and sat back, looking up at him with the saddest expression he’d ever seen.
“Even if you were real, I don’t know what I could do to help you.” He watched as her mouth moved, but he couldn’t hear anything. “Oh, I understand. The mercury was how I could hear you. Hold on. Let’s see.” Nathan grabbed the vase and started to faintly hear her again, but it wasn’t until he poured the silver substance back into his hand that he heard her voice clearly.
“Please do not be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you. I only want out of here. I’ve been here for so long.”
“How long, exactly? Because I cannot wrap my head around the fact that I am sitting in a hotel room, in a town I’ve never heard of, talking to a beautiful woman trapped in between the plates of a camera lost eighteen years ago.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “What did you say?”
“Which part?”
“Eighteen years ago? Where?”
“Egypt. The tomb of Hatshepsut in the Valley of the Kings, to be exact.”
Nathan lost sight of the beautiful blonde for a moment.
“Hello? Where did you go?” he called out as he sat up, spilling the mercury in the process. Nathan scrambled to get it back into his hand before she returned to view, but it wasn’t working. He continued to chase it, like a spilled egg on a hardwood floor. The mercury was edging close to the Oriental rug, and he needed something to collect it before it soaked into the fibers. Nathan reached for the vase and began scooping its edge against the floor, using his fingers to coax the mercury back inside.
“Where is Samuel?” the woman asked in a rushed tone, her voice faint again.
“Excuse me?” Shocked, Nathan clenched his fist, breaking the vase in his hands. “Shit!” Blood pooled, and the mercury seemed to gravitate toward the cut on his palm. “No!”
Nathan ran out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom to grab a towel and ran back inside, hoping no one had seen him or heard his cursing.
“What’s wrong?” he heard her ask when he was back within earshot.
Nathan ignored her as he tried to clean up the broken glass, but she persisted in trying to regain his attention. His hand, however, was bleeding profusely. There was a chunk of glass still embedded in his thumb. Nathan bit his bottom lip and pulled it out. Blood fell in droplets now, and he wrapped the towel around the gash. As he moved to sit on the bed, the glass plate slid off and fell onto the floor, cracking the top piece.
“I can’t have this much bad luck.” Nathan sighed as he leaned down to pick it up.
The plate had landed right where he’d spilled the mercury, and now the mercury moved, as if deliberately, toward the cracks and crevices. Nathan reached for the plate, but as he did, the edge of the blood-soaked towel he held fell away, and a few drops of blood dripped onto the glass. As soon as it did, Nathan heard a loud pop, and a flame appeared at the plate’s center, growing higher and higher. It filled the room until, there before him, stood the beautiful blonde, in the flesh.
Chapter 6
Nathan sat back and stared with his mouth agape as he watched her move. She was real. Living and breathing real. This was not a figment of his imagination, and he was not insane. Good news, he assumed, but still utterly unreal and impossible.
“You freed me?” she said with a hint of disbelief as she took in her corporeal form.
“How? How did I do that?” Nathan stammered. “The mercury was in my hand. My cut. The blood and now, you’re real? I mu
st be dreaming.”
She spotted the bloody towel and then gazed into Nathan’s eyes. “May I?” she asked in a gentle tone.
Nathan was unclear at first as to what she meant, but watched as she reached for the towel. “It’s just a cut. I’ll be fine.”
“I can help,” she said, unwrapping the towel.
The blood was no longer gushing, but it was still flowing from the open wound. She touched her finger to the cut, and Nathan watched as gold streaks appeared on her skin. Some were lines, while others were symbols—hieroglyphics, he realized. The symbols pulsed and began to glow, bringing a liquid coursing through her veins and on a path straight to her fingertips, toward his thumb. A moment later, the gold liquid flowed into his cut, healing the wound almost instantly.
“How did you do that?” Nathan asked as he examined his hand.
She met his eyes. “I felt it was the least I could do for your sacrifice in releasing me.”
“Yeah, about that.” Nathan paused. “I am really confused. I don’t know how anything that has happened tonight, or for that matter the events leading up to this past week, are even possible. Who are you? What are you? I mean, do you even have a name?” he rambled.
“Yes.” She smiled. “My name is Amani.”
“I’m Nathan,” he replied in a rush.
“I can never thank you enough, Nathan.”
“I will take my thank yous with answers, if you don’t mind.”
“I think you must be related to Samuel,” Amani blurted. “I could see him once your blood touched my skin. I could see you as a young boy, though, and not the man you are now.”
“You knew my father?” Nathan flinched.
“Samuel is your father?” Amani questioned. “I assumed someone more distant.”
Legends of Havenwood Falls 2 Page 3
