The Tomb of the Maharal Part 5A Chapter by CLCurrieThe Templars have been hired to track down a pair of grave robbers before they meet their end. A simple job, more than likely not, nothing is ever simple for the Templars.The
tomb under the house wasn’t much of a tomb at all but more of a maze with
endless corridors heading in every direction. Some of the tunnels had to reach
all the way to the town and under it. Every few feet they would find sealed up
arched ways with different colored bricks than what the floor and walls were
made from. Charlotte tapped on the set of bricks, asking, “What is on the other
side?” “I don’t know,” Nova said, staying
behind Augustine and close to Richard. “You didn’t bother knocking them
in?” Richard asked. “Didn’t think it’s a good idea,”
Nova said. “Most likely not,” Augustine agreed
with her, and all the clues of his previous rage had gone away from his
demeanor. He was once again the stoic Lord the teenagers had become accustomed
to. “There is magic behind them,”
Charlotte said, moving her hand along the wall. She looked down the hallways
they were standing in staring off to somewhere in the darkness. “There is magic
everywhere.” “I thought you said you couldn’t
feel any,” Richard said. “I couldn’t feel any in the house,”
Charlotte remarked, “but the house could’ve been hiding it from me. Also,” she
leaned closer to the wall, ” it is very light.” “Does your father still practice the
Arts?” Augustine asked Nova as he looked back at her. “Yes, sir,” Nova said with a nod. She wasn’t going to ever forget
to call him sir again, Richard smirked. “Is there a source for the manna here?”
Augustine turned to Charlotte. She nodded a hard, yes. “Its old magic, very old,” she
mumbled. “Lean the way,” Augustine gestured
with an open hand. The next two hours led them to two wooden doors gilded with
rusted gold and the Star of David in the center of it, but they didn’t care too
much about the gold or the door. It was the flicking light coming from under
the door along with the three sets of voice that had them on edge. They could
tell from the other side of the door that one of the voices was Dyson, but the
other two they could not place. They all glanced back at Nova whose
eyes were wide with fear and shock. She shook her head with her hands raise, “I
don’t know anything.” “Could the Golden Children have
tracked you guys down?” Augustine asked. “I guess so,” Nova said with the
fear of Augustine building up in her eyes, “they could have, but I don’t know.
We were the only two in the house.” “There could be easily other ways
into the tunnel,” Richard said with his guns in his hands. “You might be right,” Augustine said,
backing up from the door pulling Charlotte with him. Richard stepped in front
of the door with a grin, happy for some action. He glanced over at Nova eyeing
the Dragon Slayer. “You might want to get that thing ready.” “Right, right,” Nova said, shaking
the fear from her eyes and freeing the Dragon Slayer. Richard kicked in the
door with his pistols at the ready finding Dyson, a tall, broad shoulder man
and rope burns around his neck, being held to the ground by two other men. Men
who jumped from the ground whipping their guns around to face the thundering
sound of the door. Richard wasted no time letting the led fly, but he swore he
thought heard Dyson screaming for him not to shoot. The drums of his guns
killed any words coming from Dyson. The two men fell to the ground with Nova
racing her to father. “Dad, they came,” Nova said as she
slid to him, but he had grabbed her and shouted, “Run.” Run? Richard didn’t
understand why he would give such an order, there didn’t seem to any other foes
around until the whole building starts to shake. Richard spun around to find
the source of the sudden roaring in the old library but couldn’t find any hint
of it. He had made his way to Nova and Dyson followed by Augustine while
Charlotte stood off the side. She shot Richard a glance of terror
with sweat dripped down her face. The magic was building up in the library, and
she started to feel the pressure from the manna overflowing the room. She
visibly shook from the power. “You shouldn’t have shot them,”
Dyson said being helped up by Nova. “Why?” Augustine asked. “Extreme violence summons it,”
Dyson said, holding his leg and pointing back at the nine-foot statue standing
behind them. They all turned to face the statue while the face of the demon
began to open its mouth; the four fangs, two on top, tow on bottom of the mouth
started to glow with rivers of a black light running in the markings carved
into it. The markings were curved all throughout the body of the golem, and it
was all lighting up. The stone man took a stumbling step forward, forcing
everyone to jump back from him. It took another step, and Richard dashed
forward, watching the blacklight glowing brighter. “What do we do?” Richard asked. “We need to run,” Dyson said, “and
hope we can get out before the golem gets us.” “We,” Augustine said eyeing Dyson
holding his leg and tapping his own leg with his cane, “won’t be able to get
away in time.” “There is no way to stop it,” Dyson
snapped back at the Lord, watching the golem stepping closer and picking up
speed with every movement. The monster seemed to be working out the knots in
its body like a person would do after waking from a long sleep in a stiff bed. “There is always a way to stop it,”
Charlotte said, racing to help Dyson. “Do you know where the spell is for the
golem?” “If I did then I won’t be here,”
Dyson said, letting her help. “We have to find it,” Charlotte
said. “Keep the golem distracted,” she told Richard. “I knew this was going to be
painfully for me,” Richard said, opening fire at the monster with Nova doing
the same as everyone else got out of the way. © 2019 CLCurrie |
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Added on September 2, 2019 Last Updated on September 2, 2019 Tags: #adventurestory #steampunk #hist AuthorCLCurrieHarrisburg, NCAboutI am a storyteller who comes from a long line of storytellers. I literally trace my heritage back to some Bards (poets and storytellers) of England. My family, in the tradition of our heritage, would .. more..Writing
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