Waking the Ancients

by Catherine Cavendish

  Dee greeted her in the bedroom where she had changed into pajamas. One look at her sister’s face was enough. “What’s happened now?”

  Before Paula could stop herself, she blurted it out.

  “The portrait. I think it’s alive.”

  Chapter 5

  Dee turned around from the portrait as Paula entered the library.

  “Good morning,” Dee said, smiling. “You slept well.”

  Paula ignored the inaccuracy of that statement. She had taken hours to get to sleep, jumping at every slight noise. It must have been after five when she finally dropped off. “You got up bright and early and I didn’t even notice.”

  “I woke at seven and you were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “How are you feeling today?”

  “Much better.” Dee stretched. “It’s funny how daylight puts everything into perspective, isn’t it? This, for example.” She pointed at the portrait. “In artificial light, we read all sorts of sinister things into it and now, in the light of the spring sunshine, we can see it for what it is. An exquisite example of a great artist’s work. It isn’t alive. It can’t stare back at us, and you were right when you said it shouldn’t be hidden.”

  Paula had fully intended to take it off the wall, shove it in a drawer, and attempt to forget about it, but as she approached it, she saw what Dee meant. Sunshine flooded the library and bathed the portrait in golden light. Paula took in the subject’s regal posture, the slightly hooked nose and that brilliant, charismatic eye. Granted, it brimmed with life, but it was a painting. How could she have been so scared? Paula shook her head.

  “You’re right, Dee. We wound each other up quite a bit last night. There’s enough weirdness going on here without creating any more.” Paula stared hard at her sister. She seemed different, somehow. “You’re looking quite radiant today, Dee. I was worried; you were so pale yesterday.”

  Dee smiled. Her eyes lit up. “Makeup. I didn’t wear any yesterday.”

  “Suits you.” But Paula remained unconvinced. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

  “Good God, no! Roger’s had the snip anyway. Remember, I told you? Last year.”

  Paula did remember. “You have a glow about you, that’s all.”

  “Do I? Well, I’m definitely not pregnant. It’s the makeup. Anyway, when are we going to the Palace?”

  “I thought around eleven.”

  “You know, it’s weird, but I really do feel much better today. I’m not jumping at shadows anymore.”

  “Glad to hear it. Ready for some more history, then?”

  Dee nodded. “Bring it on.”

  She seemed so rejuvenated and animated. In contrast, Paula felt tired and in need of a good night’s sleep not punctuated by recurring nightmares and strange apparitions.

  At the Schönbrunn Palace, they passed through room after sumptuous room, marveling at the enormous crystal chandeliers, the ornate mirrors and sheer opulence. The beautiful face of the tragic Empress Elisabeth surveyed them from portraits and photographs. Her eyes held a haunted quality.

  “It’s as if she’s begging to be freed from her lavish prison,” Paula said, not realizing she had spoken out loud.

  “Bit dramatic,” Dee said. “Anyway, what had she got to complain about? No money problems for her, no worrying where her next meal was coming from.”

  “I doubt she would have been too bothered about that. She barely ate anything, and she obsessed about her weight,” Paula said. “But she was terribly unhappy. She had no freedom. Certainly not when she lived here, anyway. She went abroad a lot, but tragedy seemed to follow her wherever she went. Her son committed suicide after killing his mistress, and she herself was assassinated in Switzerland. The emperor never got over it.”

  “Thank you for the history lesson.”

  Dee had positively snapped at her.

  “What’s the matter?” Paula asked, linking her arm through her sister’s. All the earlier enthusiasm had drained from Dee’s face.

  Dee gently freed herself from her sister’s grasp. “Just ignore me. I felt fine this morning but for some reason, I’m in a way with myself again.”

  Paula gave a half smile at the odd turn of phrase. Their mother had used that expression to describe herself, or someone she knew, when they were down or depressed.

  “I suppose it’s all the stuff that’s been going on in that house,” Paula said. “I’ll have a word with Phil tonight when he rings me. I think the time has come to seriously consider whether we can stay there—lease or no lease.”

  They moved to one side to let a party of excited young Japanese tourists pass. Dee’s eyes locked onto Paula’s. “I’ve been thinking about that. I don’t think you should move out. Not yet anyway.”

  That was unexpected. “Eh? Yesterday night you were all for getting out there and then.”

  “I know, but as I said this morning, in the daylight, you see things in perspective. Maybe the place is haunted. Maybe it isn’t. You know me, until now, I’ve always had a tough time believing anything like that anyway. In the dark, an old house, creaks, tricks of the light—”

  “Come on, Dee, you know it’s a lot more than that. That basement door—”

  “Okay, maybe I’m oversimplifying a bit—”

  “A bit?”

  “All right then. A lot. As you said, though, you’ve signed a three-year lease and the landlord isn’t going to release you from it simply because you think the place is haunted.”

  “More’s the pity.”

  “You’ve made huge changes to your life merely by coming here. Don’t you owe it to yourself, and Phil, to try to stick with it? You’ve said yourself, he’s got a lot of pressure on him right now and, to cap it all, he’s thousands of miles away. He’s bound to worry about you.”

  Paula thought for a moment. “If I move to a hotel until he comes back, he needn’t know.”

  “And what good is that going to do? You’ve still got to come back.”

  “At least I wouldn’t be alone. You’ve got to go back to England tomorrow.”

  “No, I don’t. Before you got up this morning, I rang my boss. I told him you were having some problems and I needed to stay longer. He’s allowed me to take a last-minute holiday. As long as I keep in touch, I’ve got up to two weeks. Someone will call me if anything urgent comes up.”

  “Understanding boss.”

  “It cuts both ways. He needed a lot of time off last year when his wife had a nervous breakdown. I covered for him. Now it’s payback time.”

  Paula wasn’t sure she liked the way Dee said that. It sounded mean somehow after what her boss had just agreed to. She pushed the thought aside. Dee had made a generous gesture. “You’ve certainly had a change of heart, but I can’t say I won’t appreciate your company. I really don’t think I could stay in that house on my own anymore.”

  “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. Perfectly fine.”

  They carried on with their tour, stepping into the lavishly paneled Walnut Room. The party of Japanese were chattering excitedly. A few of them smiled at Dee and Paula, who smiled back. Suddenly, one girl screamed. She pointed at Dee, her hand shaking.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Dee turned every which way to see what could have caused the girl to cry out. She had started to sob hysterically and had to be comforted by her friends. An older, male member of the party came up to Paula and Dee.

  “Excuse me. I am sorry but she says she saw something. Standing behind you,” he indicated Dee. “A woman, but not a real woman. A ghost woman.”

  “Can she describe her?”

  The man nodded. “She looks from another time. Egypt perhaps. She has long black hair, a long dress. Yuki saw the wall through her.”

  Paula and Dee exchanged glances. “First the Café Central, now here. Coincidence? Or
has whatever is in the house attached itself to us?” Dee said.

  “I don’t know,” Paula said. She thanked the young man and he returned to his party. Yuki seemed to be calming down now. Other tourists whispered among themselves.

  “Come on,” Dee said. “Let’s get out of here, I feel like an animal in the zoo.”

  * * * *

  That night, Paula felt rested after a long, hot bath. She climbed into bed, switched off the lamp, and closed her eyes. In the silent, dark room, she drifted into a half-awake, half-asleep state that made her limbs relax and her mind calm.

  A whisper, like the gentlest of breezes, lifted tiny hairs on the back of her neck. She incorporated it into her dreamlike state. She ran through a field on a summer day, bare legs brushing against fresh, green grass. The breeze came again and she shifted position. The field vanished and she found herself in the basement.

  The hieroglyphics blazed vivid scarlet. The portrait she had moved to the library was back where it had been. It didn’t look right. The profile had turned to a full face. Points of light shot from the eyes like lasers. They illuminated a man. Tall, long-haired, in a black, knee-length jacket. In his hand, he held a small gold statuette representing an Egyptian god.

  Set.

  Paula wanted to run away, to escape this man who shouldn’t be there. Couldn’t be there. An impossible man with no eyes. Dead. Mummified.

  Paula opened her mouth and tried to scream for help. No sound came out. The man stood still as a statue. The points of light shifted their beam away from him and onto the wall next to him. The air moved in waves. A shape began to form. Female. Long, black hair in many small braids. A deep-red silk gown. With a start, Paula recognized the woman who stood before her.

  The girl in the painting. The girl with the dagger. She held it now.

  She raised her arm.

  “Paula! Paula! Wake up!”

  Paula opened her eyes to find Dee shaking her arm.

  “What? Oh my God.”

  “You were having a nightmare. I didn’t know what else to do but wake you. You were screaming.”

  Paula struggled to sit up in bed, her hands shaking. “It was terrible, Dee. I was in the basement. This man… And the girl in the ceiling painting—the one I think is Arsinoe, Cleopatra’s sister—she was in it, too, and I think she wanted to kill me but you woke me up. Thank God you did. It felt so real.”

  “It’s all over now, so don’t worry anymore about it. Do you want some tea?”

  “No, I’ll be fine, thanks.” A sudden wave of exhaustion hit her. She yawned. “I’ll go back to sleep. Hopefully with no more spooks.”

  Dee smiled and left her.

  Despite her weariness, Paula lay awake for a long time before sleep would claim her.

  The next morning, she found Dee in the library, using her laptop. She closed it and looked up as her sister came in.

  “Hope you don’t mind. I had to send an email to work. My boss is covering a meeting of mine in a couple of days and needed to know where some important information is stored on my computer.”

  “No problem. I don’t have any secrets on there.”

  Dee sat back in her chair. “What do you fancy doing today?”

  Paula looked out at the teeming rain and leaden skies. “I suggest staying under cover, so maybe a museum? The Belvedere. Feast our eyes on some great paintings and forget all this.”

  “Or we could just stay around here and chill out for the day. Now I’m not going back so soon, there’s no major rush, and I expect you’re tired after last night.”

  Paula shivered at the memory. “I don’t want another nightmare like that in a hurry and that’s for sure.”

  “I had one once where I was being chased by some entity I couldn’t see or hear, but I knew it was there. It pursued me for miles until I reached this cliff edge. Then I had two choices, step off or turn around and face it. I felt absolutely terrified.”

  “What did you decide?”

  “I’ve no idea. I woke up in a sweat, bawling my eyes out. For a few seconds, I still thought I was there.”

  “Why do we have them? I’ve never understood—”

  A sudden loud crash sent Paula and Dee darting toward the kitchen.

  They stopped dead at the door. “What the hell…?” Paula inched forward, stepping carefully over broken crockery and glassware. Dee followed her.

  The heavy door to the basement hung drunkenly off its hinges.

  Dee’s voice shook. “What could have done that?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Paula. Stop. You’re surely not going down there again.”

  Paula didn’t reply. Some force propelled her forward. Her movements were not her own. It felt like she had invisible rope wound around her waist, tightening and squeezing the breath out of her. “For God’s sake, what’s happening?”

  Dee’s hands grabbed her from behind. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

  The force was too strong. Dee slipped, and the two were dragged to the doorway.

  Paula slammed her hands against the doorframe and pushed with every ounce of strength she could muster.

  The invisible force broke its hold and the sisters staggered backward.

  Paula panted, desperate to fill her lungs. “I don’t know…what that was…”

  “Call the agent. Tell him to get that door fixed today.” Dee’s eyes looked huge in her white face.

  Paula called Stefan. “You need to get here right away. Something is seriously wrong. I have got broken crockery all over the floor and that basement door is not only unlocked but falling off its hinges.”

  The silence at the other end of the phone was deafening. Either he didn’t believe her, or had been shocked by what he had heard. Right now, Paula couldn’t decide which.

  “I’ll come now.”

  “Fine, but bring a carpenter with you. And the pest exterminator. Might as well get both jobs done now that we no longer need anyone to unlock the basement door.”

  Paula cut the call and her finger hovered over Phil’s number. She desperately wanted to call him—needed to hear his voice—but what could he do except worry? He was so far away.

  In the kitchen, she found Dee doing her best to clear up broken dishes.

  “Leave that,” Paula said. “Let Stefan see how bad it is.”

  Half an hour later, the agent arrived, with the pest exterminator.

  Paula and Dee showed them into the kitchen. The exterminator let out a long whistle. Stefan looked uncomfortable. “I cannot understand how this has happened.”

  Paula nodded. “We can’t, either. Where’s the carpenter, by the way?”

  “He is waiting for my call. Gott im Himmel.” Stefan stared at the damage. Then he tentatively moved toward the shattered door. “Who could have done this?”

  “That’s what we would like to know,” Paula said.

  Stefan reached the door and peered inside. “Is there a light switch here? It is so dark.”

  “It doesn’t work,” Paula said. “You’ll need a flashlight if you’re going down there.”

  Stefan backed away into the kitchen. “No need, I think. We must call the police, unless… Have you called them already?”

  “Come on, Stefan. Cut the crap. We all know this wasn’t any burglary. I know perfectly well that there are things you’ve not told us about this house. Phone your carpenter and then I want you to tell us everything. Why is this happening? What is causing it? Everything.”

  Stefan shook his head. “I don’t know anything. Truly. I only know the stories about this house.”

  “My cleaner knows stories about it. I think you know more.”

  Stefan made his phone call to his carpenter.

  The agent and the exterminator exchanged a rapid-fire conversation. Stefan stepped aside to allow him
to edge his way over to the broken door. His boots clattered on the steps leading down to the basement, fading into the distance.

  “Right, tell me everything you know about this house.”

  Stefan looked from Paula to her sister and back again. If he hoped for sympathy from one of them, he would be sorely disappointed. He rubbed his eyes.

  “This is an old house. It has seen many strange things. Dr. Quintillus—”

  He didn’t have a chance to complete his sentence. A loud crash, a yell, the sound of heavy footsteps pounding up the steps from the basement, and the exterminator raced through the kitchen, babbling in rapid German. Stefan tried to catch him but the man shot out of the door.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Paula said, her own fear reaching fever pitch while beside her, Dee blanched whiter still.

  “He said there was something down there.” Stefan hesitated, shaking his head. “He said it wasn’t human, not an animal. I don’t understand.”

  “That makes three of us,” Paula said. “As soon as your carpenter gets here, let’s get this door repaired, or replaced, and seal up that basement again. Did any of the previous tenants have these problems?”

  If Stefan’s eyes had grown any larger, they would have popped out of his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t been working for this agency for very long. Only a couple of months. I know very little about any previous tenants. All I know is that this house has a…” He struggled to find the word. “Reputation. Some say Dr. Quintillus is still here. His ghost. There is supposed to be writing on the wall of the basement. Egyptian.”

  “We’ve seen it,” Paula said.

  Stefan looked as if he had been shot. “You have been down there? But how is that possible? The door was locked until…” He indicated the mess.

  “Not all the time,” Paula said. “We found it unlocked yesterday, so we went down. Like most basements, we found it creepy, but more than that. I haven’t been in any others with hieroglyphics scrawled across the wall.”