Chapter 215: At Last, the Book of the Dead
Meanwhile, Ethan and the others were preparing to leave the second burial chamber they had discovered. Though they had found nothing useful inside, the murals on its walls confirmed that the main burial chamber lay just ahead.
"We're almost there," Cyril said, his voice filled with excitement. Even Snape, usually so cold, wore a hint of a smile.
Their journey so far had been relatively smooth. They had encountered some dangers, of course, and faced attacks from the pyramid's various internal defenses, but thanks to their extensive protective measures and alchemical creatures serving as scouts, none of them had been injured. They had only lost a few alchemical items. In fact, the dangers had been far fewer than Cyril had anticipated.
Even so, after his initial excitement, Cyril offered a word of caution. "It's been easy so far, but there's no telling what the rest of the way holds. Stay vigilant."
The others nodded in agreement.
Suppressing their eagerness, the four of them continued along the narrow, downward-sloping passage. After moving a short distance, they found their caution somewhat unnecessary. The dangers here were no greater than before. The excitement they had suppressed began to resurface. Ethan and the others even found their minds wandering, imagining what the Book of the Dead might look like and what secrets it might contain.
*I hope it holds a method for resurrection,* he thought.
His thoughts drifted to the three men waiting at the entrance. The strange commotion with the flying carpet had left him uneasy. Now, on the verge of fulfilling a wish he had held for so many years, he couldn't help but dwell on it. He voiced his concern. "I wonder if Robert and the others bothered to cover up our dig site. I'm a little worried now. The signs we left are pretty obvious. I hope they don't attract any unwanted attention."
During their previous digs, the areas they had excavated were small, so they rarely worried about such things. This time was different. Their excitement at breaking through the passage had gotten the better of them, and since they would need that same route to get out, they hadn't bothered to hide it. Looking back, Cyril regretted it.
"I'm not sure," Ethan said, shaking his head. "I assume they did something to cover it up."
But they had come too far to turn back and ask Robert. They could only press on.
As for why they did not simply call out, the answer was simple: within the pyramid, they could not. The total distance they had traveled from the entrance was not actually that long. The winding path was perhaps a kilometer in total. Yet they could no longer hear Noé and the others. Less than ten meters in, after rounding a corner, the previously clear voices of Noé's group had abruptly faded. A bit further on, Ethan and his companions could hear nothing at all. They had discussed it at the time. The magic at work seemed similar to the enchantments on the entrance to St. Mungo's or Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, as if it separated one space from another. The effect here, however, was weaker. It only isolated sound; it did not create a separate world.
Based on this and the layout of the priests' temples in other pyramids, they guessed that the builders had cast such a spell to ensure that the pharaoh's rest would not be disturbed by the profane sounds of the world during funerary rites.
Burying his worries deep, Cyril turned his attention to the reliefs carved into the walls of the passage leading to the main chamber.
"Look at this!" Cyril spotted something new on the relief. From a distance, he pointed at a depiction of an open book resting on a high platform. "Is this the Book of the Dead?!"
"It's possible," the others agreed after studying it. The relief, as they interpreted it, showed the pharaoh's subjects kneeling before their ruler, who had been resurrected by the power of the Book of the Dead.
While Ethan and the others were getting excited about the mural, a very different scene was unfolding elsewhere. Mael and Robert were fleeing for their lives, following the tracks Ethan's group had left behind.
Under normal circumstances, following the first group's exact path would have required caution, as some traps and defenses were designed to reset and strike again. But with over a dozen people in hot pursuit, they had no time to worry about lingering dangers. They just ran. Both men were injured. They'd applied Essence of Dittany, but some wounds still bled. They pressed on, gasping for breath.
They had, however, noticed the pyramid's strange acoustic properties. As long as they couldn't hear their pursuers clearly, they were relatively safe.
"Don't slow down! Even if we can't hear them, I guarantee they're right behind us!" Robert yelled at Mael, who was starting to lag.
"Right." Mael picked up the pace. He'd slowed because the silence from their pursuers had caused his focus to waver. Guilt washed over him. He'd failed Noé.
Finally, he couldn't help but ask, "Robert, what do you think happened to Noé?"
"I don't know. But it doesn't look good," Robert replied as he ran, a man who'd seen his share of life and death. "Judging by the attack they threw at you, these people came to kill. They weren't holding back. I doubt Noé fared well once they got their hands on him." There was a note of regret in his voice.
"That bastard Isaac! He betrayed us! If I survive this, I'll make him pay!" Mael's hatred was now fixed on the traitor, Isaac.
"Save your breath and run! Worry about revenge if you live through this!" Robert snapped, pushing himself to run even harder.
But unlike the two men fleeing for their lives, their pursuers were in no particular hurry. They had already confirmed that Apparition was impossible inside the pyramid. So as they followed the tracks, they moved with deliberate caution. After all, if they ran headlong into Ethan's group while winded and gasping, they might not even be able to cast a spell properly. They had also noticed the blood on the ground. It was clear the path wasn't entirely safe.
So Gis's group split into two. Three men took the lead, moving cautiously and watching for any residual traps that might reduce their numbers. The remaining four, including Isaac, brought up the rear, effectively sandwiching Saphir's four men and Nadim in the middle. It was a formation designed to protect themselves in case of an ambush.
Saphir understood their reasoning perfectly, and he did not care. He had already seen from their attitude toward Noé that these men would not suddenly turn on them and start killing. So, with others clearing the way, Saphir felt safe enough to admire the murals lining the corridor, his mind wandering.
*An unexplored pyramid,* he thought, his heart burning with avarice. *The treasures it must hold!* *Just these murals alone would fetch a fortune!*
"Ah!" A scream echoed through the otherwise quiet corridor, shattering his reverie. The sound bounced off the stone walls. Everyone's grip on their wands tightened. They had no idea what had caused the sudden cry.
"Thomas!" Saphir's expression changed as he recognized the voice. He spun around to look at Thomas, who should have been nearby but had somehow fallen behind.
The wizard lay on the ground, his left hand clutching his right, a dark miasma spreading over his face. His body twitched and spasmed.
*Poison? Or a curse?* Saphir's mind raced through the possibilities.
"Laurent, go check on him." Faced with an unknown danger, Saphir certainly wasn't going to investigate personally.
Laurent was far from willing. But under Saphir's hard stare, he kept casting every defensive charm he could think of on himself and reluctantly edged toward Thomas.
"You were right next to Thomas. Did you see what hit him?" Saphir asked Nadim as Laurent crept forward.
"No. I wasn't watching what he was doing. But I don't think anything suddenly appeared to attack him." Watching one of the men who'd held a wand to his head get struck down filled Nadim with immense satisfaction, though he kept it completely hidden. *I hope he just dies. It would save me the trouble later,* he prayed silently.
Saphir knew Nadim's attitude toward him was far from friendly at the moment, so he didn't press further. He focused his attention on Laurent, who was illuminated by the combined light of over a dozen wands.
"There's a small cut on his finger. Could it be poison?" Laurent, who hadn't dared get too close, finally suggested after his lengthy examination.
"Poison? What did he do?" Saphir was baffled. Everyone else was fine. Only Thomas was down. He must have done something extra. "Idiot!"
Saphir noticed a fresh smear of blood glistening on one of the golden inlays of the mural, and he cursed under his breath.
"I've told you countless times to keep your greed in check. Let Thomas be a lesson to you. I hope you'll remember it now." He glared at Laurent and his other remaining subordinate.
The murals were decorated with gold leaf. Everyone had seen it. But until the job was done, the others had resisted the temptation and kept their hands to themselves. Only Thomas, worried that his share would be too small, had deliberately lagged behind to pry off a piece of gold for himself. He'd been careless, and the gold's protective curse had sliced his finger, injecting a dose of venom.
*What a bunch of incompetents,* Gis thought with inward scorn.
"Give him the antidote. The rest is up to fate." Saphir's order to Laurent was cold and detached.
"Let's go." They left Thomas where he lay, to live or die on his own, and continued on their way, now even more cautious than before.
Saphir's callous abandonment of Thomas only deepened the already profound distrust between the two factions. They were not truly allies. If any of them were injured in the coming fight, there was no telling what this Dark wizard might do.
The delay caused by the incident gave Robert and Mael more time to flee, though they were unaware of it.
After passing through the second burial chamber and seeing the shattered stone statues littering the floor, the pursuing group pressed on.
"We're here. This is the main burial chamber. The Book of the Dead should be inside."
Standing before a magnificent set of doors, Ethan and the others felt their excitement threaten to burst from their chests.
"Get ready. I'm opening the door." Cyril took a deep breath and prepared to cast his spell.
But at that moment, Ethan's ears pricked up. He thought he heard something.
"Wait. I hear something," he called out quickly, turning to face the dark passage behind them.
The footsteps grew closer, more distinct. Cyril stepped in front of Ethan, shielding him. The four of them stood with their backs to the door, wands aimed at the corridor.
The footsteps were rapid. Who would dare to run in here? Puzzled, Ethan activated his special sight to identify the runners.
*Robert and Mael? What are they doing here? Where's Noé? And so many souls! There are others inside!*
Though he recognized the two as allies, Ethan didn't relax his guard. Their behavior was too strange.
"Who's there?!" Cyril shouted.
"Cyril! Help! There are people in here!" Robert's desperate cry echoed through the corridor.
"Robert?! Stop right there!" Cyril felt something was wrong.
Rounding a corner, Robert and Mael came into view. The four figures had their wands raised, pointing straight at them.
"Don't come any closer! What's going on? Who's in here? And where's Noé? Why isn't he with you?" Cyril fired off questions the moment they came into sight.
"We're being hunted..." Though a little annoyed, Robert understood Cyril's caution.
Once he'd caught his breath, he and Mael took turns recounting what had just happened.
"Isaac led them here?!" Cyril was stunned. He couldn't wrap his head around Isaac's betrayal.
"Yes. He was the one who stunned Noé. There were too many of them. We could only save ourselves. We have no idea what happened to him." Mael's guilt resurfaced.
"Noé is dead." Only then did Ethan understand why Noé's soul had looked so strange. It was moving among the souls of Isaac's group, but noticeably higher than the others.
Upon entering the pyramid, Ethan had scanned the structure with his sight to ensure no dangerous creatures lurked within. He had then deactivated the ability, which was less effective in the enclosed, dark environment. He hadn't expected so many people to enter the pyramid in the meantime.
"We need to get inside the burial chamber," Cyril said, recognizing the urgency. "This corridor is too narrow. They outnumber us. Fighting here puts us at a severe disadvantage. We need to find cover inside."
"There's still time. They're moving slowly. We have about five or six minutes before they get here." Ethan gave his estimate based on the speed of the approaching souls. Revealing this aspect of his ability was a risk, but the situation was desperate.
Unlike the main entrance, the doors to the inner chambers of the pyramid were actual doors and weren't heavily warded. They had easily opened the first two burial chambers, and this one was no exception.
"Alohomora!"
Cyril's spell worked, and the doors to the main chamber swung open.
But unlike the previous chambers, the moment the doors parted, rows of torches mounted on the walls burst into flame, illuminating the vast, vaulted space.
*The Book of the Dead!*
Even before stepping inside, Ethan could see it: a book, lying open, floating in the air above a raised dais directly opposite the entrance.
The group rushed inside, and the doors slammed shut behind them with a boom that echoed through the chamber. Ethan spun around and tried the doors, but they had already sealed shut.
"There's no way out now," said Noé.
"The book," said Cyril, ignoring him. "That's what we came for."
Ethan studied the dais. The Book of the Dead hovered above it, its pages slowly turning on their own, as if someone were reading it. The dark energy emanating from it made his skin crawl.
"How do we take it?" asked Gis.
"Carefully," said Cyril. "Mael, you're up."
Mael, the muscular wizard, stepped forward, his face pale but determined. He approached the dais slowly, his eyes never leaving the book. When he was about ten feet away, he stretched out his hand.
The moment his fingers touched the pages, a deafening scream tore through the chamber. The book's pages stopped turning, and a ghostly figure rose from within them, reaching for Mael with spectral claws.
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