Bakkian Chronicles, Book I - The Prophecy (4 page)

“
I’m no expert, but I’d say that they weren’t. I’ve seen actual hieroglyphs on documentaries. These don’t look like them.” She leaned forward and peered closer. “We could do some research online when we get a chance. Remind me to take a couple of digital pics for later.”

Steve and Sarah walked through the doors into the master bedroom. This room, along with every other room they had explored thus far, conformed perfectly to the antique motif of the rest of the house. Paintings, tapestries, bookcase-lined walls, large comfortable-looking armchairs, and even a fireplace a shade smaller than the one on the first floor met their eyes. Everything seemed to be in its place.

Sarah walked over to the nightstand on the right side of the bed and picked up a small, leather-bound book.

“
What do you have there?” Steve inquired.

“
Looks like some type of diary. A journal, maybe.” She flipped it open and read the inscription on the inside cover. Or at least tried to.

“
I can’t make this out. Take a look.” She offered him the book.

Retouk e R’Tal dedonde lu manis er’ fasim olande djeren – Kri’Entu er’ Ny’Callé

Steve was perplexed. “What language is that? It’s not Spanish.”

“
It’s not French either. I can’t make out any words at all.” Sarah looked as stumped as he was.

He started to flip through the book, fearing it was all written in this unknown language, when he chose a random spot near the middle of the book and stopped. It was clearly written in English. He read aloud to Sarah.

“’
We finally located the manuscript in Capily. I’m anxious to start reading about Volan’s legendary travels, but Grace is anxious to return. The Nayan is very eager to see the manuscript, and I believe Grace would like to share the discovery with her.’” Steve closed the small book. “Capily? Where’s that? I haven’t heard of it.”

“
Me either. Probably somewhere in Europe.” Sarah looked thoughtfully at the journal, then at Steve. “You ought to read that. It might help you to get to know your grandparents better. Maybe find out why they wished to seclude themselves up here all the time.”

Steve frowned. “Isn’t that a violation of privacy? I don’t want to pry into their lives. I wouldn’t want someone I don’t know reading my journal.”

“
Hon, they were your family. You’re the self-appointed family historian. I’m sure it’s okay. Besides,” she pointed out, “I don’t think they would care. They’re dead!”

Steve finally conceded the point and slipped the journal into his jacket pocket. They continued to look around the master bedroom before returning to the ground floor. He didn’t know about Sarah, but he was starting to have second thoughts about putting this place up for sale. This wasn’t the dump he figured it would be. Everything they had discovered thus far had been tasteful and elegant, indicating subtle wealth everywhere he looked. This was the home of a very civilized couple that enjoyed a comfortable lifestyle, surrounding themselves with unique possessions that interested them. Besides, the house was freakin’ huge!

With each passing moment as they explored the manor he was starting to visualize both he and Sarah living there. In fact, he was already mentally claiming the study/office on the northern side of the first floor for his own when Sarah spoke.

“
What are you smiling at?” Sarah’s question yanked him back to the present. She had been watching him, trying to figure out what was going through that head of his. Just then, Steve’s cell phone started ringing. He unclipped his cell from his belt and checked the caller ID.

“
It’s your sister. Wonder why she didn’t call you?”

“
My cell is charging.”

“
Probably ought to go outside. Better signal.”

Sarah nodded. She took the cell and headed outdoors.

“
Seester!!”

Steve shook his head and chuckled. Hearing Sarah call her sister that always made him smile. Sarah and Annie were as close as sisters could be, which meant this call could last quite a while. He sat down on one of the couches in the sitting room and pulled the journal out of his pocket.

Outside, Sarah had wandered (deliberately) over to the gardens while chatting with her sister.

“
Omigod Annie! You should see this place! The house is beautiful! Not at all what I expected! The grounds are gorgeous! And I wish you could see this garden! I think I'm in heaven!” Sarah sank blissfully down onto a stone bench in the middle of a group of hydrangea bushes.

“
Do I really have to hear this?” Annie sounded jealous. “You get this fabulous mansion for free, along with your dream garden, and now you gotta brag about it?”

“
You better believe it! I so wish you could see this with me!”

“
Where's Steve?”

“
Oh, I left him in the house. I think he's probably looking around. Annie, I don't want to sell this place.”

“
Then just tell him. Steve's a reasonable guy. I'm sure he'd understand.”

“
You didn't hear him. He truly sounded like he didn’t want this place. Almost like he was offended that he was given it”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, tough break.”

Back inside the house, Steve was flipping through the journal when a sentence caught his eye.

We’ll place the necklace in the safe…

That got his attention. A safe? In this house? He stood up and walked to the living room with the ridiculously large fireplace. He scanned the room. Where would somebody hide a safe? Where else! Behind a painting! He practically ran to the closest painting and tried pulling it away from the wall. He promptly succeeded in knocking it off its holder. The gigantic painting fell noisily to the ground with a loud crash. A plant stand, complete with an exotic-looking plant, were also knocked over in the process.

Sarah came sprinting back into the house. There was her husband, down on his knees, hastily scraping spilt dirt back into the base of a large, potted fern.

“
Fifteen minutes! I leave you alone for fifteen minutes and you already break something! What did you do?”

A five-year-old child caught with their hand in the cookie jar couldn’t have looked more guilty.

“
Umm, well, the thing is…”

Sarah looked at the blank spot on the wall. Her gaze traveled down until her eyes rested on the painting and the fallen plant.

“
What were you doing? Don’t tell me you were looking for a hidden safe.”

“
Actually, I was. Get a load of this.” Steve showed the journal entry to his wife.

Sarah was silent as she studied the journal. Steve noticed with satisfaction that his wife’s head was slowly swiveling about as she took in the layout of the room.

“
See? That’s what I was doing! I was checking to see where they might have hidden a safe.”

“
Okay, for the sake of argument, let’s assume there is a safe somewhere in this house. Do you actually think it would be hidden behind a painting?” Sarah paused. “They have safes that are hidden in the floor, you know. For that matter, they’ve hidden safes behind panels, bookcases, etc. We could search for days in here without finding any traces.”

Steve looked thoughtful. “Remember those two rooms on this floor that could pass for offices? Let’s check there. Umm, I’ll take the one on the left; you take the one on the right.”

“
Sounds good. I don’t want to waste too much time on this, though.” Sarah thought a moment. “Let’s give it about ten minutes, then go on to something else. We can always search later.”

They split up, Steve going to “his” office and Sarah to hers. Where to start? There was a mahogany desk on the far wall, bookcases everywhere, several plants, and he counted five paintings on the wall. Oh, and in the corner to the right of the desk was a statue of some mythological creature. Steve had to delve into his fantasy encyclopedia to come up with the name: griffin. A creature with the head, wings, and forelegs of an eagle, and the rest of the body
resembling
a lion. Cool!

He went to the desk first and rifled through the drawers looking for any clues that might indicate the location of the safe. Nothing. He checked the paintings, carefully this time, and discovered bare walls behind them. He eyed the bookcases. There were five of them that were all filled with huge, musty tomes that looked as though they’d fall apart if he so much as touched them.

He moved to the first bookcase when he stopped and listened. There was a faint humming noise that hadn’t been there before. He pivoted in place, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. The odd thing was that it sounded like it came from everywhere in the room. Not a loud, unpleasant noise, but a constant soft, musical humming.

Was this noise in all the rooms? Steve started moving toward the door when he froze. The humming had stopped.

“
What the hell?”

Steve spun around and eyed the room again. He still couldn’t determine where in the room the sound was coming from. Eager to see if it would start up again, he stood in front of the same bookcase and waited. Sure enough, the humming returned.

“
Where in the hell is that coming from?” Steve spun in place again. Nothing out of the ordinary. He took a step toward the bookcase and cocked his head toward the books, fully expecting the humming to increase in volume. It didn’t. He experimentally took a couple of steps back and the humming ceased. Bemused, he stepped forward again, and the humming started. Back, and it stopped. Started, stopped. Stopped, then started. Stopped again.

Sarah came around the corner and started to enter the room when she saw her husband. She stifled a laugh. What was he doing, the Hokey Pokey??

Unable to refrain any longer, Sarah burst out laughing. “What are you doing?”

“
Hey, don’t laugh! Check this out!” Steve stepped towards the bookcase. The humming started.

Sarah stopped laughing and cocked her head. Was someone humming?

“
What’s that? Where’s it coming from?”

“
I have no idea. It seems to be centered on this spot. If I move from it, like this…” Steve stepped away from the bookcase. The humming stopped. “See? It stopped. And if I go back, it starts again. What do you think?”

“
Something is reacting to your presence. But what?” Sarah looked around the room. Nothing was out of place and there didn’t seem to be anything in the room that had an electronic brain.

“
Here, you stand here and let me see if I can tell if anything changes.” Steve stepped back to get out of the way as Sarah took his place. Both of them froze as they realized that the humming did not resume.

“
What the hell?” both said, in perfect unison.

Sarah stepped to the left and motioned Steve to join her. He returned to her side and was shocked to discover that the humming had resumed.

“
It’s you! Not me, but you! This is really spooky!” Sarah’s eyes had widened until they were the size of saucers.

“
Okay, I’m gonna move around the room. Something is making that noise. Stand over by the doorway and see if anything changes.” Steve walked the length of the bookcases on the far wall.

“
The STATUE!! Stopstopstop!!! Look at the statue!!” Sarah was practically jumping up and down as she gestured wildly at the stone statue of the griffin, whose eyes were glowing green.

Steve froze in place as he looked at the statue. The griffin’s eyes were definitely glowing. The eyes grew brighter as he ventured closer. Stepping directly in front of the statue, the griffin raised its right foreleg, revealing a button that was recessed into the pedestal it was standing on.

Steve was silent as he stared at the button. “Oh well, what the hell.” He pushed it.

The front panel of the pedestal swung open. Inside the hidden chamber was a brass container the size of a shoebox, several stacks of papers, a small pewter box, and several sacks of an unknown substance.