Michael Belmont and the Tomb of Anubis (The Adventures of Michael Belmont) (2 page)

Look at the mighty, centuries-old fortress looming into the sky above, a monument to the rich history of our great Scottish homeland.
 
The flags raised upon its upstretched 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.

Observe 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 might 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 read it and smiled.
 
"Shamus McGinty was a very passionate man," she told him.
 
"He was a bit full of himself, but also very good-hearted and caring.
 
Keep reading the book, you'll see what I mean."

In actuality, Michael had already read through most of it, and he was amazed at some of the adventures that Shamus McGinty had been involved in.
 
He had written of safaris, archeological excavations, political leaders, and other famous people he had met and worked with.

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 saw while traveling.

Michael’s parents seemed to have their share of adventures, although some of their work seemed a bit boring to him.
 
His Uncle Lincoln, or "Link" as they called him, did a lot of traveling himself.
 
He owned an antique store in Sedona, 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.

And then there was Declan MacDonald, Liam’s father.
 
He was a historian who 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.

It seemed that everyone around Michael led a much more interesting life than he did, but perhaps that would change someday soon.
 
He continued to thumb through McGinty’s memoirs.
 
For now, he’d just have to be content with his books.

It was about two o'clock in the afternoon when the Belmonts 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 wore 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 met Michael in a firm handshake.

"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," Emma called 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.

"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, who 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 with 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 alright?" 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 Abigail'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 far beneath him.

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 sound again.
 
It was the same noise he had heard just a few moments ago in his dream; the sound that had pulled him back into the uncomfortable world of reality.
 
He sat up once 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 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 Abigail'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 abounded, 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 the beam was 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 as stealthily as he could, often shining his light back behind him to take a look and ensure nobody was sneaking 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.
 
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.