The Time Hunters and the Spear of Fate (The Time Hunters Saga Book 3)

by carl ashmore

  Through the dimness, Becky watched as a final Minotaur statue marked the corridor’s end. At once, she could see it was different from the others; its eyes were shut tightly as if in prayer, its head bowed humbly, and its large fingers were wrapped around a basin, fashioned from orichalcum, which rested on a rostrum adorned with spiralling dolphins. To the basin’s left was a panel, about the same size as the Gadeirus Tablet, written upon which, in fine gold lettering, were more Atlantean words.

  ‘Edgar, what does it mean? Becky asked quickly.

  Edgar moved to her side and leaned down. ‘Err - let me see …’ After taking a few seconds to consider the translation, he inhaled a great squall of air and said in a low, shaky voice:

  ‘I am bright in the day, but black in the dark

  I am warm to a sphinx, but cold to a shark

  I pour and I drip, with no raincloud in sight

  And should I desert you, yours will be boundless night

  Thus if you’re my brother, and your soul be true

  Just let me see daylight, else the damned shall find you …’

  The instant the words left his mouth, the corridor ahead brightened as if powered by a hidden electric light. Becky jolted with shock. A short distance away, lining the floor like sentry guards, were twenty oblong stone caskets, each standing over six feet tall. They pitched long, ominous shadows onto the dusty floor. The caskets’ frontages were decorated with men, painted in vivid colours, their eyeless sockets bleeding, their mouths wide open, screaming with terror as if victim to an indescribable torture.

  ‘What are they?’ Joe gasped.

  ‘I believe, Joe,’ Uncle Percy replied uncomfortably, ‘they may be sarcophagi...’

  ‘You mean they’re coffins?’ Becky choked.

  ‘They are the twenty …’ Edgar squeaked with a mixture of shock and horror.

  A scraping sound rent the air - it was coming from the casket closest to them. Suddenly, bandaged fingers, twisted and thin, curled around the casket’s lid. Slowly, it was forced open to reveal a corpse, wrapped from feet to neck in long sweeps of cracked, bloodstained linen, its head fully exposed, with shriveled, yellowing skin that was stretched thin across bone like rice paper.

  Layla screamed.

  A second casket was pushed open … then another … and another…

  ‘Mummies!’ Joe exclaimed.

  Chapter 25

  Mamma Mia

  Becky was paralyzed with terror. She watched dismayed as the mummies raised orichalcum swords into the half-light, their blades glinting orange. Then, as one, they stepped jerkily from their caskets, their eyeless sockets, black and cavernous, staring eerily ahead.

  Fighting the urge to run, Becky spluttered, ‘What do we do now?’

  Joe raised his Joe-Bow and took aim. ‘Maybe they’re like zombies - one arrow, one brain, one less mummy.’ He sent an arrow through the air. It thumped into the nearest mummy’s skull. The mummy didn’t falter. Instead, it reached up and, in one clean movement, yanked the arrow out. Then it turned chillingly towards Joe, as if somehow identifying its attacker.

  Joe gulped. ‘Okay,’ he said, much less confidently than before. ‘Anyone else got a plan?’

  Will withdrew his sword. ‘We cut them to bits.’

  Dissatisfied with this answer, Becky looked at Uncle Percy, her voice panic-stricken. ‘You got a better idea?’

  ‘What was the riddle about?’ Uncle Percy replied urgently. ‘I didn’t quite hear it.’

  The mummies took another step forward.

  ‘Summat to do with sharks,’ Joe replied quickly.

  Never shifting his gaze from the mummies, Uncle Percy slipped his hand into his cloak pocket. ‘What about them?’

  ‘Them being cold. Oh, and Sphinxes being warm.’

  The mummies advanced another step.

  ‘And what else?’

  ‘It wants you to be its brother?’

  ‘Anything else?’

  Joe was about to answer, when the nearest mummy lifted its sword high. With a bloodcurdling hiss, it charged, powering towards them with unnatural speed.

  Becky’s insides tumbled. Then she saw Uncle Percy draw something from his pocket – there was a thunderous BANG - a dazzling flash of blue. Her eyes widened. Uncle Percy was holding a gun! She glanced back at the mummy - the strangest thing had happened: it had frozen, mid-run, like an ice sculpture. Seconds passed, everyone staring at the mummy with disbelief. Then, like waking from a deep sleep, the mummy came out of its frozen state. Momentarily confused, it hissed wildly and was about to continue its assault when –

  Uncle Percy shot it again.

  Once more, it fell stock-still.

  Becky gasped.

  Then the other mummies advanced as one, a step at a time, like a lethal wall, swords aimed forward. Uncle Percy fired twice – two more frozen mummies.

  A bone-chilling hiss rent the air. The remaining mummies charged.

  Layla screamed again.

  Without hesitation, Will raced into the onslaught. Mummies surrounded him on all sides, slashing at him, baying for blood. But he was lightning fast. He blocked a strike, parried another. With a clean swing, he sliced off a mummy’s hand, sending its sword rattling across the floor.

  ‘William!’ Edgar yelled, dashing after him into the fray. He plucked up two mummies like they were bails of hay and hurled them powerfully against the wall.

  All the while, Uncle Percy kept firing. Each shot hitting its target. Before he knew what was going on, however, Joe had pulled his sword free from its scabbard. ‘No, Joe!’ he panted.

  ‘You can’t use a sword, you donk!’ Becky shouted at him.

  ‘Watch me learn,’ Joe replied. With a fearless yell, he rushed into the fight.

  ‘Uncle Percy, they’ll be killed,’ Becky shrieked.

  Grim-faced, determined to protect Joe at all costs, Uncle Percy fired at the two mummies closest to Joe, striking them both full on. Then he glanced back at the Minotaur statue, his mind racing. ‘Cold shark, warm sphinx, brother.’ Realization lit his face. ‘Edgar … get back here,’ he shouted. ‘We need your blood…’

  In that instant, Becky knew he’d solved the riddle. Blood.

  Edgar, however, couldn’t hear him over the clatter of swords.

  Becky swallowed a great lungful of air. ‘EDGARRRRRR!’ she screamed at the top of her voice. ‘GET YOUR BACKSIDE HERE NOWWWW!’

  Edgar heard that. Barrelling a mummy out of his path, he sprinted back, panting madly. ‘What is it, child?’

  Becky produced Orff’s knife. ‘We need your blood. It’s the answer to the riddle.’

  Edgar scrutinized the tiny knife. ‘The metal would not break my skin.’

  Looking round, Becky glimpsed the discarded sword. Without stopping to think, she sped off.

  Uncle Percy looked horrified. ‘Becky?’ he yelled. ‘What’re you doing?’

  Becky didn’t hear him. She dodged one mummy, then another, before dropping to her knees beside the sword. Her stomach turned when she saw the mummy’s severed hand still gripped the hilt, its fingers wriggling like rotting worms. From behind, she heard a sickening snarl. In the blade’s reflection, she saw a mummy raise its sword. BANG. The mummy froze. Scooping up the sword, she scrambled to her feet and raced back to Edgar.

  ‘To the statue,’ Becky told him, the sound of the battle ringing in her ears. She and Edgar ran over. Standing at the basin, she thrust the sword into Edgar’s hands. ‘I’m sorry but you’ll have to cut yourself.’

  Edgar held out his hand and, without drawing breath, sunk the blade into his palm, slicing deep into flesh. Blood leaked out, thick drops landing in the basin, staining the orange surface a deep crimson.

  At that moment, everything changed. The mummies ceased their assault, their swords falling to their sides. Then, one by one, they turned slowly and, like automatons, shuffled back to their caskets, returning inside and closing the lids. As the final lid thumped shut, a disbelieving silence swept the cha
mber.

  Breathless, Will and Joe returned to the group. No one knew quite what to say. Eventually, it was Butterby who spoke, ‘Well done everyone. Marvellous. I’m sorry I wasn’t much use, but you’re quite the little outfit, aren’t you?’

  Becky didn’t hear him. Instead, she flung her arms around a surprised Joe. Her relief at his wellbeing, however, soon morphed into anger. ‘Are you mental?’ she barked at him. ‘You’ve never even used a sword before!’

  ‘I have on Assassin’s Creed,’ Joe replied with a smirk.

  ‘Oh, shut up.’

  Uncle Percy extended his hand, a disapproving look on his face. ‘Sword, please …’ Joe passed it over. ‘What did I tell you about doing something stupid like that?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Joe replied, head down.

  Will, on the other hand, gave him a proud smile. ‘You are truly your father’s son,’ he said. ‘When we return to Bowen Hall I shall instruct you in the true art of swordplay. Although my instincts tell me you’ll require little tutelage.’

  Joe’s face lit up. ‘Ta, Will.’

  Becky looked at Uncle Percy’s gun. ‘And what kind of gun is that?’

  ‘I call it a Temporevolver.’

  Butterby looked impressed. ‘May I take a look at it?’

  Uncle Percy passed it over. Up close, it looked like a very old pistol, the kind you might see in a western, with an octagonal forged barrel and a pearl handled grip, but there was one notable difference: a small black box with a tiny electric light embedded within was fixed just above the cylinder.

  Enthralled, Butterby turned it in his fingers like a child with a new toy. ‘Very impressive. And no bullets?’

  ‘Not as such,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Exclocidiant pellets.’

  ‘Really? So it’s like a standard Temporaliser?’

  Becky recalled the Temporaliser Uncle Percy had used on her mother the previous month.

  ‘In essence, yes,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Of course I had to design a more concentrated method of maintaining its molecular structure until the point of impact, hence, the construction of a pellet. But the principles are the same.’

  ‘Fascinating,’ Butterby replied. ‘And only you could invent a pistol that was completely harmless.’

  ‘Well, I’m never going to invent a killing machine, that’s for sure.’

  ‘It’s well cool,’ Joe said.

  ‘Thank you, Joe. I certainly hope it’ll be something Tracker division may be interested in looking at.’

  It was then Becky noticed Edgar was not with them. He had moved to the far side of the caskets, his huge bulk filling what appeared to be a doorframe, the other side of which was bright light. She nudged Uncle Percy, who looked over, took a nervous breath and said, ‘Shall we get out of here?’

  Becky moved over to a trembling Layla, whose gaze never left the sarcophagi. ‘Come on,’ she said, trying to sound as upbeat as she could. ‘You’re safe now.’ She took Layla’s hand and together they approached the doorway, everyone following close behind. Watching Edgar disappear into the space beyond, she trailed him through.

  The sight that greeted her was nothing less than astonishing.

  They were in a sprawling cavern, its roof hidden by towering trees; flowers were everywhere, their petals shining brightly in a symphony of colour.

  ‘I don’t get it?’ Joe breathed. ‘This is impossible.’

  ‘The Spear makes the impossible possible,’ Edgar replied.

  Butterby looked on the verge of fainting. ‘The Spear created all this?’

  ‘The Spear is life,’ Edgar replied simply. ‘That is its gift, its power. It gives life where it should not exist.’ His voice lowered with reverence. ‘We are in its presence now...’ He disappeared into the forest.

  Becky felt like she was in a dream. She inhaled deeply. The air tasted like honey on her lips. They had only advanced a hundred metres or so when Edgar came to a sudden halt. Looking ahead, she saw why. Through overhanging branches, four steps led up to a magnificent structure constructed entirely of white marble, with an external colonnade of tall pillars, inscribed from top to bottom in Atlantean script, which supported a sloping truss roof.

  ‘The Temple of Poseidon!’ Butterby exclaimed, voice aquiver. ‘It exists.’

  Becky’s mouth tumbled open. She heard Joe whistle with astonishment. Unsteady on her feet, she trailed Edgar up the steps, when a long, wide hall stretched before them, at the far end of which, shimmering like a sun, was a gigantic golden statue of Poseidon sitting atop a chariot pulled by six winged horses.

  ‘Oh – my – Lord,’ Uncle Percy panted.

  Thrilled beyond words, Becky surveyed the statue. Then her spine turned to jelly. Poseidon’s outstretched left hand was curled around a spear, its lozenge-shaped tip glowing as bright as any star; a silvery haze surrounded the spearhead, blurring the air around it like a mirage.

  Not one of them was in any doubt: The Spear of Fate.

  All round, Becky heard loud gasps of wonder. As the last gasp faded, stillness filtered through the hall. She glanced over at Butterby, who wore a jubilant expression. She would have felt exactly the same way if she hadn’t noticed Uncle Percy draw his Temporevolver, his eyes alert and vigilant.

  ‘Be on your guard everyone.’ His voice dropped to a mutter. ‘This is usually the point where it goes very wrong.’

  With a soft click, Will and Joe extended their Joe-Bows.

  Becky felt a jolt of anxiety, when she sensed movement to her right.

  Butterby had stepped forward, an oddly distant look on his face.

  ‘Hang on, Charles,’ Uncle Percy urged. ‘Let’s just make sure everything is safe before we proceed.’

  Butterby ignored him, his gaze set immovably on the spear; trancelike, as if drawn by an unseen magnetic force, he continued to walk.

  Becky was confused. What was Butterby doing?

  ‘Charles!’ Uncle Percy repeated, more firmly this time. ‘Please… wait -’

  At that moment, a low growl resonated from behind the statue, sonorous and bloodcurdling, threatening to shake the very columns themselves.

  Becky’s blood turned to ice.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Uncle Percy breathed. ‘CHARLES. GET BACK HERE NOW!’ he yelled.

  Butterby kept on walking, his pace quickening.

  In a blur, an enormous creature, as big as a car, hurtled into their line of sight, its furred body patterned red and black, its muscular front and back legs tipped with giant hooked claws.

  ‘A Sphinx!’ Edgar said with disbelief.

  ‘Y-you said that Sphinxes were the size of poodles,’ Joe spluttered.

  ‘This creature has been cursed,’ Edgar replied darkly. ‘This is Thoth’s doing.’

  ‘Who cares?’ Becky uttered. ‘MISTER BUTTERBY!’ she screamed, but it was too late.

  The Sphinx’s four yellow eyes locked on Butterby, burning into him, venomous, spiteful. Before he could do anything, it gave a hideous roar, gluey twines of saliva splashing the floor, and then charged at him. With a powerful swing, its claws slashed at his face, striking hard, sending him crashing across the floor. His body skidded to a lifeless halt, face down, contorted and broken.

  Layla’s screams echoed through the hall.

  Satisfied with its first kill, the Sphinx turned on the others, snarling wildly, its face frozen in a mask of anger. Then it moved towards them.

  ‘Uncle Percy,’ Joe said quickly. ‘Use the Temporevolver. Shoot it.’

  ‘There’s no way it could temporalize something of that size, of that raw power,’ Uncle Percy replied solemnly. He glanced behind, his expression showing he knew full well that escape was not an option.

  ‘Becky, Joe, take Layla. Get as far away from here as you can…’ He pulled his sword into the light. His eyes met Will’s. ‘Old friend, we once defeated a Hydra. Perhaps we can do the same again…’ He didn’t sound confident.

  Will took a heavy breath. ‘Perhaps we can …’

  Chapter 26
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  The Snake in the Grass

  Joe raised his bow. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he said resolutely. ‘Becky, take Layla and …’

  Becky was about to tell him to tell him where to go, when another voice filled her ears.

  ‘This is not your fight, my dear friends,’ Edgar said. He rose to his full height, head held high, chest swelling. He sucked in a huge breath and his eyes locked on the Sphinx, which stopped its advance when it saw him. ‘Thoth left this poor creature for an Atlantean to defeat. If there is to be a fight, then it should be mine and mine alone.’

  Becky had never heard him sound like this before. Gone was his usual timidity, replaced by an assuredness she never would have thought was in him. ‘But you once said it yourself - you can’t fight.’

  Edgar’s kindly eyes fixed on her. ‘If I remember correctly, Miss Becky, I said I don’t fight. I didn’t say I couldn’t.’ He forced a smile. ‘You forget, I was raised with two rather boisterous brothers.’

  He stepped forward. Gaining confidence with each step, he strode impressively across the floor.

  Becky looked horrified. ‘Uncle Percy, he’ll be torn to bits.’

  Uncle Percy didn’t know what to say.

  Edgar approached the Sphinx and bowed deeply. ‘Noble creature,’ he said. ‘You have been wronged in the past. This should not be your home. And we are not your enemy. I am not your enemy.’