Indiana Jones and the Dance of the Giants

by Rob MacGregor

  Somewhere far off, she thought she heard a steady pounding and the distant sound of horns. But Powell continued talking. "The gold bowl is not unlike the gold scroll, which, as I promised, I have brought to you. It brings us great hope and returns the power of the Omphalos to the Dance of the Giants. Listen now to Merlin's amazing story."

  Then she heard Powell reading the scroll. She grasped the wicker bars in both hands and pulled herself to her feet. She could see Powell atop the slaughter stone, and noticed that he wasn't reading from the scroll, but from a sheet of paper. One of his more knowledgeable cronies must have translated it for him. When he finished, Powell spoke in a ritualistic voice. "What was written here in ancient times confirms what we knew, but many have doubted. Merlin, a druid, was indeed the architect of Stonehenge. He is the envoy of the Omphalos, and foresaw this day when the gates of power would reopen at the Dance of the Giants.

  "Now, we will bury the Omphalos and at dawn, after the consecration is completed, the great powers of the Omphalos will spring forth as Apollo and Merlin merge as one, and I, your servant, take their place in the flesh. Believe what I say, colleagues of the great orders. If what I say is not true, may the sky fall upon my face, and the wrathful flames of the gods destroy me."

  I hope they do. The thought seemed to pop into Deirdre's mind from outside of her, and it made her start to think about her predicament, and about what was going on. What am I doing here? I've got to get out of here.

  The beat of drums grew closer; the horns sounded like a wild, howling wind. Deirdre looked over the field of white robes and saw Adrian moving to the center of the inner horseshoe. He lowered something into the ground. As he stood, he stared directly at her, holding her gaze.

  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't look away. Finally, he smiled, and she shifted her eyes to the crowd. She couldn't believe what she saw. She sucked in her breath, and gaped. She squeezed her eyes shut. She refused to look. It can't be. I don't believe it. Then she made herself look. With an odd sense of relief, she welcomed the sight of the robed druids. What was wrong with her? For an instant, she was sure that she had been looking at a herd of deer.

  "This is not a night for speeches; this is our night of revelries, of high adventure," Powell shouted. "Listen now to the drums, and the horns as they approach." His voice was hypnotic. "Release, fly, soar with the night. Release, fly, soar with the night."

  Randy stopped the carriage near a truck outside the ruins. "That's how they brought the cage out here." Randy pointed at the truck.

  They walked over to it, but as soon as Indy saw that it was abandoned, he turned his attention toward the stone monument. He could hear music, and see shadowy figures moving about in jerking, swirling motions. "Let's get a closer look."

  "You better stay here, son," Randy's father told the boy.

  "I've come this far. I want to go, too."

  "I said stay here."

  "Your father's right, Randy," Indy said. "It's better if you wait out here."

  "Oh, all right." He gave them a hurt look, then stomped off to the carriage.

  "Watch out," Shannon hissed. "Someone's coming."

  The three men ducked behind the truck, and watched as two robed figures approached the carriage. "What are you doing here?" one of them demanded when he saw Randy.

  Williams started to stand up, but Indy jerked him down.

  "I've come to see if anyone wants a ride back," the boy said, innocently.

  "We're not through, and besides we like to walk," one of the druids said. "You go on now."

  "Let him stay for awhile," the other man said. "Maybe someone will need a ride back."

  "Just stay here. Don't come any closer," the first man warned. "You understand?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good going, Randy," Indy whispered in a voice that only Shannon and William could hear.

  When the guards had disappeared from sight, Indy motioned forward and they darted for the outer ring of stones. They stopped beneath one of the trilithons, blending into its giant shadow. Indy gripped his gun tightly, looked around, but no one had seen them.

  The drumming was loud. It pounded in Indy's ears. The horns blared, and the air was riddled with sounds. Several bottles of wine were being passed around the crowd. He saw someone costumed like a bull, someone else wearing a bird headdress. For an instant, he glimpsed a man wearing only a loincloth, dancing and playing a harp.

  Some of the druids, both men and women, were writhing about on the ground, moving their arms as if they were birds soaring through the night sky. He knew the practices of the old Celtic druids were derived from ancient shamanism, and these new druids were obviously following the same pattern in their ritualistic practices. He still remembered how one of his professors at the Sorbonne had described the process in a lecture on shamans of the Upper Paleolithic: "Sensual stimulation, emotional stress, and disorientation induce disassociation, trance, vision, ecstasy."

  But now wasn't the time to ponder druid behavior. They had to take advantage of the situation. He had to find Deirdre before she became a victim of the revelries. He signaled Shannon and Williams to wait, and edged away from their hiding place.

  Just a few feet away one of the druids was twirling and staggering in his direction. Indy grabbed the man by the cowl and cracked the butt of the gun over his head. He slumped to the ground, and Indy immediately pulled off his robe and put it on himself, dropping the revolver into a pocket. Shannon and Williams looked from the fallen man to Indy, surprised by the swiftness of his actions.

  "Watch him while I find a couple more robes." Indy pulled up his cowl, and slipped away from the shadows of the trilithon. Several robed men were building a bonfire on top of the slaughter stone and Indy knew he had to hurry. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and froze. He turned and recognized the same bearded, overstuffed druid who had been standing guard at the heel stone before the eclipse. The man held out a bottle of wine. Indy took it, and gulped the last of the wine. "Thank you, brother."

  The druid was frowning now. "Say, you took my robe and didn't return it to me."

  "I see you found another one, though. Mind if I borrow this one, too?"

  "What?"

  Indy cracked the bottle over the man's head, and the man toppled over. He grabbed him under the arms and quickly dragged him back to the trilithon. "This guy needs to lose some weight," he huffed as Shannon and Williams helped him.

  They stripped off the big man's robe, and Shannon put it on. It fell over his feet. "You could've found someone a little smaller."

  "No time to be picky. They're already stoking the fire."

  "Watch out! Someone's coming," Williams said.

  Indy looked up just in time to see another druid. This one, however, was approaching warily.

  "What's going one here?" he demanded, looking down at the prone robeless figures. Indy grabbed Williams by the collar.

  "We caught them spying on us."

  "Williams, what are you doing here?"

  "You know him?" Indy asked.

  "I'm the constable. I'm in charge of security." He bent over to look at the two men on the ground and Shannon grabbed him by the neck and rammed him against the upright block of stone. But the constable was only stunned. He staggered a couple of feet, then pulled a gun from his robe. Indy shoved Williams out of his way, and at the same time reached into his own robe for the Webiey. The constable leveled his weapon at Shannon. A gun fired. Shannon jerked back in surprise. But the constable fell.

  "God, I shot him." Indy stared at the motionless body, and suddenly felt sick.

  "Thanks," Shannon said. "That's why I'm alive." He pulled the robe off the constable and handed it to Williams.

  "I don't want to wear it," Williams said, pointing at the hole in the chest and the patch of blood.

  "It looks like spilled wine," Shannon said. "Either wear it or go back. Make up your mind."

  Reluctantly, Williams put on the robe, and the three of them, with cowls pulled f
orward, moved away from the trilithon. Shannon immediately tripped over his robe, but caught himself. He pulled the robe up and held the hem in one hand as Deirdre had done. His awkward movements didn't attract any attention since nearly everyone was moving in spastic turns, gyrating to the music, and more and more of the revelers were falling into trances, quivering, shaking, undulating.

  All to their advantage, Indy thought as he tried to shake off the sickening feeling in his gut. They moved toward the slaughter stone and he saw the bonfire blazing. He thought of Deirdre and toughened his resolve. A dozen or so druids cavorted around the stone. Among them were robed figures beating drums or blowing horns, and one pranced about wearing feathered wings and a scaly, snakelike headdress. "Back there, behind the slaughter stone," Indy said to Shannon when he spotted the wicker cage. He turned to Williams. "Start dancing, and follow me."

  Indy kicked his feet, swung his arms in a swimming motion and snaked his way around the massive stone. He looked back once and saw Williams imitating his moves, and Shannon improvising his own. His hands were at his mouth as if he were playing his cornet, and he was gyrating to his own beat.

  Then Indy saw Deirdre lying on the bottom of the wicker cage. She wasn't moving. Bastards probably drugged her, he thought. They were so confident she wasn't going anywhere that no one was guarding her.

  He hurried to the gate of the cage, and Shannon positioned himself behind him and continued dancing. "Deirdre," Indy whispered. "Wake up."

  She turned her head, blinking her eyes. Her jaw dropped. "Indy!"

  "Shh!"

  He jerked the lock on the latch, felt the wicker bars. Williams crouched down next to him. "Give me my knife. I can open it fast without the key."

  Indy looked over at Williams, wondering once again if he could trust him. "Okay. Here."

  The carpenter took the knife, held it up, smiled, then turned and went to work. Ten seconds later, the latch snapped and the door popped open. Deirdre started crawling out; but then the trouble began.

  24

  Axis Mundi

  "Indy!" Shannon shouted.

  He turned, and saw white.

  A horde of druids descended on them. Shannon raised the constable's gun, but didn't fire it. Williams dropped his knife, and Indy simply stared at the surging robed mass of men and women. At the last instant, he snapped out of his lethargy, and dropped to the ground. He pulled Deirdre after him. He crawled under legs, zigzagged, twisted, rolled. He was stomped on and kicked. Hands grabbed him, pulled his hair, tugged his arms and legs. He bit, clawed, and punched. But all to no avail.

  He heard someone yelling. "Lambs, lambs. Get the lambs. Don't let the lambs escape."

  More and more hands grabbed him; they pulled, poked, shoved. Finally, he was pushed through an opening, and he felt a jumble of arms and legs around him. Someone pushed his feet, and a door snapped shut. He rolled over, and bumped into someone.

  "Indy, you okay?" It was Shannon.

  He managed to sit up and get his bearings. He was in the cage, and crowded with him in the cramped quarters were Deirdre, Shannon, and Williams. "I guess we didn't make it."

  The cage door was bound by a rope and the druids were turning away to continue their merrymaking as if nothing had happened. "This is my fault," Deirdre said. "You should have just gotten away while you had the chance."

  "That wasn't even an option," Indy said.

  "But now look at us."

  Indy reached for Deirdre's hand. "Don't worry. Powell can't kill us in front of all these people. He may think he's a druid, but he's living in the twentieth century like the rest of us."

  "What's that you say, Jones?"

  Indy looked up, and could hardly believe his eyes. Powell wore only a loincloth and a wreath woven from laurel leaves and twigs. He held a harp under one arm and his face was so caked with makeup that it looked like a mask.

  "I said you can't kill us in front of all these people. They're not all corrupt like you. You'll never get away with it."

  Powell laughed, and strummed his harp. "Jones, you have no idea of my powers. They see what I want them to see. You will be sacrificial lambs, and that is all. Even now, they are laughing and talking about how the little lambs almost escaped when their cage door broke open." Powell playfully strummed the harp again. "Now, my little lambs, I've got to wassail awhile, but we'll be back for you very soon."

  Powell skipped off, like a carefree child.

  "He's crazy," Shannon snorted.

  Deirdre squeezed Indy's hand. "I think it's true what he said. He must have some ability to make people see what he wants them to see."

  Indy stared through the wicker bars at the revelers. "Mass hypnosis. I've read that the ancient druids had mastered it." Powell was even more dangerous than he'd thought.

  "That explains why I couldn't fire the gun," Shannon said. "I just let them knock it out of my hand."

  "It's witchcraft," Williams wheezed. "That's what they are, witches. Something made me drop my knife before they even touched me."

  "Any way you look at it, we can't do anything against him," Deirdre said, rubbing her hands over her face. "We're like ants about to be squashed under his thumb."

  "Let's not talk about ants," Shannon groused. "My legs are still on fire from where the little bastards were chewing on me."

  Indy tried to find a more comfortable position. From where he sat he could see the glow of the bonfire from beyond the slaughter stone. "Okay, let's think about this a minute. First of all, Powell isn't invincible. He may have created some sort of temporary effect on us, but he doesn't control us. Otherwise, he wouldn't have to keep us in this cage."

  "So? We're still not going anywhere," Shannon said.

  "So we've just got to figure a way to outmaneuver him."

  "But how?" Deirdre asked.

  "First of all, we've got to take advantage of his arrogance. He thinks he's more powerful than he is. He's put us in a cage, but we're not tied up, or gagged." He patted his side. "They took my gun, but not my whip."

  Or the Omphalos, he thought.

  "He doesn't need to tie us up or watch us," Williams scoffed. "We can do nothing against him."

  "Maybe you should've stuck with the bad guys," Shannon said dryly.

  "I was never with Powell. There was nothing I could do."

  "Sounds like a regular problem of yours," Shannon commented.

  Indy waved a hand to cut him off. "Jack, that's enough. You're wasting time."

  "Psst. Psst." They all turned and saw Randy crouched behind the cage.

  "Get out of here," Williams growled.

  "Be glad that he's here," Shannon said.

  "I've got a knife. I can cut your way out."

  Indy reached his hand through the wicker bars. "Give it to me. Now get back to the carriage, and wait for us, or you'll end up in here."

  Randy nodded, then crawled to the outer ring of stones and scampered into the darkness as Indy went to work carving at the rope holding the gate closed. "Take off your robes. You'll be able to run faster," he said.

  "But they'll see us," Shannon protested.

  "It doesn't matter. They see us as lambs, not druids." He kept slicing at the rope and was almost through the rope when Shannon touched his forearm. "Hide the knife."

  He tucked it away as several men approached. They surrounded the cage and grasped hold of the wicker bars. One of them counted to three, and they lifted the cage in unison. They moved it several feet, then lowered it to the ground and regrouped. "They're heavy," one of them said.

  "Yeah, we're not lambs, boys. Open your eyes," Shannon said.

  One of the men looked up, and Indy recognized Narrow Eyes. "Not all of us need the veil. But your yells and screams won't work with the others. Adrian is powerful. All they'll hear is the bleating of lambs before their sacrificial deaths."

  They lifted the cage onto their shoulders this time and started walking. The crowd moved back, making way for them. Indy saw orange tongues of flame lick
ing the night sky as they neared the bonfire. He had to act, and fast.

  He pulled out the knife and started hacking at the hands gripping the cage. The men yelped and howled. Blood spurted from the wounds. The cage rocked, plunged downward, smashed against the ground, and broke apart. But the knife slipped from Indy's hand as he fell.

  Indy pried away the broken wicker with his hands and feet and rolled out the hole. He reached to his belt, and unhitched his whip as the others crawled out after him. The crowd stared, perhaps uncertain what they were seeing. He grabbed Deirdre by the arm.

  "Dash for it," he yelled.

  "Get the animals before they get away," someone shouted, and the crowd surged. Robes flapped; arms lunged. The escapees dodged between the ghostly figures, but finally they were corralled, surrounded on all sides.

  "Get down!" Indy shouted to the others and unfurled his whip. He swung it over his head hard and fast, and the knotted tip slashed across cheeks and chins, noses and foreheads. One after another the druids nearest them crumpled to the ground, holding their faces.

  "They've got claws," someone yelled.

  "Go, go," Indy yelled as gaps in the circle opened. While the others scrambled away on all fours toward the nearest trilithon, Indy covered them, snagging the neck of one of the druids who attempted to stop Deirdre. He spun the man around and pulled him to the ground, and several other druids tripped over him.

  Indy jerked back the whip, and hurtled ahead like a leather-helmeted fullback. He bowled into a couple of druids, then raced past the trilithon, and away from the ruins.

  Two druids were in close pursuit, but he saw the carriage and ran as hard as he could. The others were already aboard it and Randy was perched on top, ready to set the horses in motion.

  Thirty more feet. Twenty. Fifteen. Almost there.

  Then one of the men dived, caught his ankle. Indy stumbled, skidded, and rolled. He tried to get up, but the other man pounced on him. He grabbed the assailant by the neck, and punched him in the jaw. The man's head jerked back, and Indy rolled away from him. He leaped to his feet, but the other man grabbed him by the shoulder. Indy spun around, pulling back his fist. The man ducked and raised his hands, and Indy just pushed him away, turned, and charged after the carriage, which was rolling ahead now.