Indiana Jones and the Dance of the Giants

by Rob MacGregor

  No, this wasn't right, she told herself. Hadn't this already happened? Yes, in front of the pub, but that had been a dream, and this must be another one.

  "Thank you for finding the scroll for me. I doubt that I would've found it in time without your help. My guess is that the room you found when you and your friends removed the stones was a very special one, the very one where Guinevere stayed. The monk's sister probably hid the scroll in the chimney just before the wall was built closing off the room for all time."

  Deirdre hugged her arms around her, waiting for him to vanish so she could wake up. But he kept moving closer, and she could see the details of Adrian's face, his smile, the cleft in his chin, and those dark eyes that looked right through her.

  "You can't fool me. You're not real. I'm dreaming this."

  "Oh, dreaming, are you? Can't you remember falling through the ceiling? You were lucky. You landed on one of the beds, but unfortunately you fell off and hit your head."

  "Where're Indy and Jack?"

  Adrian stopped outside the cage, and ran his fingers along one of the bars. "What does it matter? This is a dream, isn't it?"

  He laughed. The hair rose on her arms. She closed her eyes, wished him away. She ordered herself to wake up. She and Indy must have fallen asleep after they made love, and she'd dreamed it all. None of this had happened. They hadn't gone to Stonehenge, or to the convent. They certainly hadn't broken through a wall and climbed up a chimney. She'd just dreamed they'd found the gold scroll and that they'd crawled through passages under the roof and then fallen through the ceiling of a bedroom.

  She'd had dreams of wandering around large, old houses before. But then she felt the bites on her arms and legs, and she recalled something else. When she last saw Adrian in her dream, he was wearing a black robe, not a white one like he wore now.

  "Don't go back to sleep, Deirdre. I'd hate you to miss all the fun."

  The voice sounded so real. She opened her eyes, and he was still there. She touched the sore spot on her head, and rubbed her arms. Not a dream. It was real and it was horrible.

  "Let me out of here. You can't get away with this, Adrian."

  He walked around the cage as if he were inspecting an animal.

  "Where's Indy?" she demanded.

  "I'm afraid you've seen your Professor Jones for the last time, Deirdre." He signaled the men, and they each took one corner of the cage. They lifted it, and carried her toward a set of double doors.

  "Put me down!" she shouted, but no one paid her any heed. She clung to the bars as she was rocked and bounced through the convent's musty air. "Adrian, please stop this. It isn't funny."

  He stopped at the double doors and turned to her. "You are truly fortunate, Deirdre. Truly fortunate. You are the chosen, the select. You will be remembered."

  She didn't know what he was talking about, didn't want to know. Powell pushed open the doors, and the night swallowed her.

  22

  Milford Remembers

  Indy was seated on a cold stone floor. His hands were tied to either leg of a bed that was behind him. Shannon was next to him, tied in the same way to another bed. They were captives in the room they'd fallen into. Indy had landed on his feet after the fall, but Shannon had dropped on top of him and they'd both crashed to the floor. When Indy had untangled himself, he was staring into the barrel of a gun that Powell was holding.

  Indy had tried to help Deirdre when he saw her slumped on the side of the bed, but Powell had kept him away from her. When his thugs finally showed up, they took her away, and he hadn't seen her since. He hadn't seen Powell either.

  Now Williams stood guard at the door with Indy's Webley in his hand, Indy's knife on one side of his belt, and Indy's whip on the other. Indy had asked him how Deirdre was, and where they'd taken her, but the caretaker hadn't responded. He hadn't said a word, except to tell them not to talk.

  They'd been quiet a long time now so Indy decided to try again with a different tack. "You have any experience with whips?"

  Williams ignored him.

  "Indy could give you a quick lesson if you untie the rope for awhile," Shannon said.

  "Jack, let me—"

  "I told you, no talking." Williams smacked the butt of Indy's revolver against his palm.

  "Sorry," Shannon mumbled.

  Now he'd have to wait, Indy thought, and try again.

  The bolt in the door was pulled back and Powell entered the room in a white robe. "I hope you're comfortable, gentlemen. I'm leaving now, but we will be back for you later. Thank you, by the way, for finding the gold scroll. The timing could hardly have been better. It makes me realize that everything is working as it is intended."

  "What did you do with Deirdre?" Indy demanded.

  "Don't worry. She's in good hands. She has her role to play." He opened the door to leave.

  "You hurt her, Powell, and I'll shove that Omphalos down your throat."

  A cruel smile twisted on Powell's lips. "No, I don't think so. The Omphalos will be buried in the center of Merlin's Precinct, and no one will dig it up for a thousand years."

  "Or until the next archaeologist picks up a shovel," Indy said.

  "That won't happen," Powell said confidently. "Just last week Parliament passed a proclamation allowing for the planting of a tree at the center point of Stonehenge, and marking the site as off-limits to all digging. In fact, I am here as Parliament's representative. Of course, my colleagues don't know about the Omphalos or that Deirdre's blood will consecrate the ground above the sacred stone when the tree is planted at dawn. But it's all part of the prophecy, our legacy."

  "Like hell it is!" Indy shouted, struggling against his bond.

  "You'll spend the rest of your life in prison," Shannon said. "Someone will talk."

  "Not likely. Not likely. You know so little about me. But enough talk. The others await my arrival."

  The door slammed shut after him, and Williams stepped in front of it.

  "Sounds like he's got a big night planned," Shannon muttered.

  "We've got to do something," Indy said under his breath as he eyed Williams. If he could get the guard to move within reach of his feet, he could trip him, and knock him out with a kick to the head. They could lift the beds and work the ropes under the bottoms of the legs. But he was tied to the bed farthest from Williams and that made the plan tougher to pull off.

  "Indy, you must know something about druids," Shannon said. "Do they really sacrifice people like Powell was saying?"

  "The old druids. The real ones." As Indy spoke, he watched Williams out of the corner of his eye. "They were involved in animal and human sacrifice."

  "Then I guess Powell is picking up their bad habits," Shannon said.

  "Stop talking like that," Williams said. "Both of you."

  Williams looked uneasy. What they were saying obviously bothered him more than the fact that they were talking. "It might do you good to hear what kind of things your friends are up to," Indy said. "Druids killed by burning, hanging, or drowning. It represented the three elements: fire, air, and water."

  "There's no water or trees at Stonehenge, and no fires are allowed," Williams said.

  "They also stabbed victims," Indy said. "They used their entrails for divination."

  Williams silently mulled over what he'd said.

  "I guess you don't know much about Powell," Shannon said.

  The man grunted, looked away.

  Indy decided to push him further. "You're not a druid, are you? You're not wearing a robe, and you're not going to their ceremony."

  "Maybe he's in training," Shannon said.

  Williams took several steps forward, and cracked the butt of the gun against Shannon's ribs. "I'm not a druid. I'm a carpenter, and the caretaker here."

  "You're an ass," Indy shouted.

  Williams raised the Webley by the barrel, and moved toward Indy. Good. Now was his chance. He tensed his legs, prepared to bring Williams down with one quick swipe. A little farther;
one more step. Come on.

  But the caretaker abruptly stopped and turned as the door creaked open. Indy cursed under his breath as Williams moved out of his range. Indy saw it was the kid, Randy. Thanks, you little bastard.

  "What are you doing here, Randolph? I told you to stay away," Williams snapped.

  "Dad, listen to me. We have to let them go."

  "What are you talking about? It's none of our business. We can do nothing about it, or the others will kill us."

  Randy looked past his father to Indy and Shannon. "They're forcing us to do these things. My father is not a bad man. They paid him too much money to make a cage, and made him take the money."

  "A cage?" Indy asked. "What kind of cage?"

  "Made from wicker. Dad is a very good carpenter. But they said he owed them services, because of the money he accepted. He couldn't say no. The first day it was just a few chores, then they made him guard your friend, and they made me watch the train station. And even now I still have to watch the station for unusual people every time the train arrives."

  Randy turned toward the door, and at that moment the last person Indy expected to see stepped into the room. "Dr. Milford, what are you doing here?"

  "Never mind that now." Milford set his black leather case down on the floor, and looked around. "What the devil is going on here?" He scowled, and turned to Randy's father. "I order you to release these men. They're not criminals. At least, not that I know of."

  Williams looked as baffled as Indy. "I can't. Powell will kill me."

  "Then I'll do it," Milford said, and he slickly pulled the knife from the man's belt before he could react. He moved over to Indy, and sliced at the rope.

  "Stop that," Williams ordered. He raised the butt of the gun above his head.

  "No, Dad. Don't." Randy grabbed for the gun, and father and son struggled for it.

  Indy pulled his arm as hard as he could as Milford sawed away at the rope. Suddenly, it snapped, and Indy rolled over, lifted the foot of the bed, and freed his other arm. He leaped to his feet and jerked the revolver out of Williams's hand.

  The man backed against the wall. "What are you going to do to me?"

  "Hand over my whip."

  Williams hesitated, then did as Indy ordered. "Don't hit me. I wasn't going to hurt you."

  "No, you were just guarding us so someone else could kill us later."

  Randy lifted the other bed and Shannon freed himself. "Now I remember where I know you from," Milford said to Shannon. "You're the one who played the horn after dinner at Indy's."

  "That's right." Shannon sounded amazed.

  "Yes, it was so loud my ears hurt for days."

  "Sorry about that," Shannon said as he moved over to Indy. He grabbed Williams by the shirt collar. "I didn't appreciate the way you smacked me with that gun."

  "You can hurt me, but don't hurt my son," Williams said.

  "We're not going to hurt either one of you," Indy said. "We just want some cooperation, and if things work out our way, you won't have any trouble with Powell."

  "We'll help you," Randy said. "You can count on it."

  His father looked away, then nodded, grimly.

  "Where's Deirdre?" Indy demanded.

  "They took her to Stonehenge in the cage I built."

  "Swell. Keep an eye on him, Jack," Indy said, then he turned to Milford. "Now what in the world are you doing here, Dr. Milford?"

  "I'm on an important mission."

  Indy stared at the old professor. "You are?"

  "Yes, I am." He bent down to his black case and fiddled with the catch. "Locked. Now what did I do with my key?" He stood up and started searching his pockets.

  "How did you know I was here?"

  "Weil, you weren't home, and..." He pulled out a key from his pocket, examined it, then knelt down and tried it. He shook his head. "No, that's not it. Don't know what it's for, either." He stood up, and continued his search through his pockets.

  "I wasn't home, so you just figured I was here?" Indy asked in a skeptical tone.

  "No, Marcus figured that out."

  "Brody?"

  "That's right. Marcus got worried and sent me a cable, asking if I'd carried out his instructions."

  "What instructions?" Indy asked.

  "That's exactly what I wanted to know. So I cabled back and asked what he was talking about." He pulled out a handkerchief, was about to wipe his forehead when a key fell to the floor. "That's where I put it. Wrapped it up so I wouldn't forget it."

  "What about these instructions from Marcus?"

  "Well, he sent back another cable reminding me that I was carrying something I was to give to you. I'd had it in the bottom of my bag all the time, but it was in a box under some papers, and—"

  Indy was exasperated. "Dr. Milford, what are you talking about? What is it?"

  "The Omphalos, of course."

  "The Omphalos." Indy shook his head. "It was stolen by Adrian Powell, the man who tied us up here."

  Milford waved a hand. "No, that one's a fake. Marcus got the idea of making a duplicate after a Dr, Campbell kept asking about the Omphalos and warning that it was going to be stolen. So when the duplicate was ready, he put it in the display."

  "How ingenious of ol' Marcus." Indy paused, looking perplexed. "And then he gave you the real one so you could give it to me."

  Milford beamed. "That's right. I was already going to London, and he didn't think anyone would suspect what I carried." Milford scratched the fringe of white hair on the side of his head. "Of course, things got fouled up when I forgot about it. Then to top it off, when I found it, I couldn't find you, but Marcus said something about an eclipse at Stonehenge and that you'd probably be there, one way or another."

  "He got that right."

  Milford opened the case, and lifted a plain, square box. "Here you are, Indy. By the way, Marcus told me it's best not to handle the stone for some reason."

  "Yeah, I've heard."

  23

  Revelry

  "I need to borrow your carriage for awhile," Indy told Randy. "I've got to help Deirdre."

  Shannon opened the door. "I'm going with you."

  "Not me," Williams said. "I won't go out there."

  "Dad! You said you'd help."

  "We don't need any more trouble, Randolph."

  "Okay, you stay here with your son and Dr. Milford," Indy said. "Go to the constable, and tell him the druids are planning on murdering a woman at the ruins."

  "Can't do that," Williams said.

  Indy gave the man a sullen look. "Why not?"

  "Because the constable's out there wearing one of those robes. He's a druid."

  "Great. That's just swell. Let's go, Jack. Dr. Milford, thanks for your help. I'll see that the Omphalos gets back safely to Marcus."

  "Do you want to leave it with me?"

  Indy didn't especially care to take it with him, but he didn't like Milford's suggestion any better. "I'll take it with me."

  "Suit yourself. If you don't mind, I'm going to lie down in one of these beds. It's well past my bedtime."

  Indy opened the top of the box and looked down at the black, cone-shaped artifact with its petrified, net-like lacing embedded on the surface. It amazed him how much trouble such an unattractive, nondescript relic could cause. He didn't believe much of what the gold scroll said about Merlin's life, but one thing about the Omphalos was true. It had fallen from the sky. It was a meteorite that in the ancient past had been worked into its present shape, probably by having been rubbed with an abrasive while under running water.

  He held open his jacket pocket, and tipped the box upside down. The Omphalos fell nose-first into the pocket. It protruded slightly, but Indy zipped the pocket closed. He patted his bulging jacket, feeling the added weight.

  "Okay, let's go."

  Indy and Shannon left the room and moved through a maze of hallways and finally into a chapel. They headed directly to the main door, moving at a determined pace. They hit the doub
le doors at the same time, but were stopped in their tracks.

  "Locked," Indy exclaimed.

  Shannon backed away. "Now what?"

  "I know the way out," Randy yelled from the other side of the chapel. "Follow me."

  Indy shrugged. "Let's go."

  They crossed the chapel, and headed through another door and into a hallway, which led to an exit at the side of the building. The horse and carriage were waiting nearby. "I'll drive," Randy said. "You're going to need my help."

  "Is it okay with your father?"

  "Yes, it is," Williams said, approaching the carriage. "I'm going, too," he said, grudgingly. "We're already in trouble. Can't get much worse."

  Indy climbed atop the carriage with Randy, while Shannon and Williams sat inside. They pulled away from the convent and headed for Stonehenge. He didn't know what to expect, but he knew it wasn't going to be a quiet night at the ruins.

  Deirdre lay in her wicker cage near the slaughter stone. She was aware that Powell was talking to the crowd and some of the druids were standing just a few feet away. But she had no will to call out for help. Nothing seemed to matter. She felt heavy, sleepy, and unconcerned. It was a magic sleep. That's what Adrian had called it. Maybe he'd put something in the water she'd drunk, or maybe it was just Adrian's voice. He had ridden with her in the back of a truck, and all the way he had talked and talked about druid things, about the sun-god and Merlin, the underworld and the other world, and she had wondered what had happened to the man of Parliament.

  Now though, as she listened to him relate a Celtic myth, she saw the connection. It was a story of a boy hunting in a time when many in the land were lacking will and were faint of heart. The boy came upon the castle of the King of Suffering and in an interior court spied a gold bowl. He discovered the bowl had the ability to restore the dead to life and to heal, and when he took it from the castle and showed it to the people, the despair vanished and the people were strong again. Deirdre realized it was a parable for Powell's quest to stop the Commonwealth, which he saw as weakening the strength of the land, and who supported it were lacking will and faint of heart.