The Silver Casket (3 page)
Authors: Chris Mould
“I love it!” cried Stanley as he turned to Daisy. She could hardly hear him. The wind whistled through the cave's opening, and the crash of the surf almost drowned out his voice.
“Why the cupboard?” he asked.
Daisy shrugged her shoulders and held her hands aloft. “Don't know!”
“Why didn't you tell me before?” he shouted through the thunder of the water.
“Well, I've hardly had the time,” she answered. “We've both been more than busy since we met!” She came closer so that she could be heard more easily. “Stanley, we should get back. Mrs. Carelli will be suspicious.”
“Does she know about this place?”
“No, but she will if we don't get a move on. We can return when we need to. Come on!”
Stanley looked at his candle. The gust had wiped out its flame.
“Prepare yourself, Daisy,” he announced. “We'll have to make our way in the dark.”
And she held on to the tail of his jacket as they felt their way back through the blinding blackness.
Out from the Tomb
An ancient stone block began to shift, disturbing the stalks and tendrils that had held it fast for a thousand years. Hordes of spiny black insects were startled into movement in every direction.
A skeletal hand with brittle, blackened nails curled itself around the crumbling slab and forced a meager opening. Two narrowed eyes peered out from the black pit. And then, snakelike, the bony frame of Angel Cuzco
slithered out from this prison. Dressed in red, he had a shock of white hair, with two odd bumps on his back.
slithered out from this prison. Dressed in red, he had a shock of white hair, with two odd bumps on his back.
Nearby, an identical stone moved sideways, and out climbed two more figures. They were dreadful to behold, swathed in long coats embedded with silt and sand, stinking and soggy. Long, lank hair hung over their shoulders, and their red, bloodshot eyes struggled in the light that they had not seen for so many years.
“What names do you go by?” asked Angel Cuzco.
“I am Captain Alvaro Villegas and this is my twin brother, Mauricio,” said one of the pair.
“I remember you. We fought together along the coast of South America,” said Angel. He felt his rusty memory come back to life. “We were the pride of Peru for many years. Everyone feared us. You, Alvaro, were my captain and we were, all of us, like a band of brothers.”
The twins stared, their memories coming back too. They remembered the might of Angel Cuzco and how they had been proud to fight for each other like mad men.
“Why did you awaken from your ancient tombs?” asked Angel.
“The same reason that you did,” declared Alvaro. “The Ibis is alive, and the silver casket sits in wait for the final piece in the puzzle. Will you join us on the journey from Peru?”
A green glow appeared in Angel's eyes, a fire
from within. His passion for the Ibis was strong. Stronger than anybody's, he thought. The Ibis belonged to him and only him.
from within. His passion for the Ibis was strong. Stronger than anybody's, he thought. The Ibis belonged to him and only him.
“No. I shall not join you. I shall go alone, and when I reach the home of the Ibis I will take it for myself and no one and nothing will stop me.”
He said no more. And before they could show their surprise, he drew his sword and cut both of them in two.
Their bodies lay slumped at his feet. He grinned the most evil grin, which turned into vicious laughter. It rang out into the
air, and even the parrots in the branches above flocked away.
air, and even the parrots in the branches above flocked away.
He pulled back the lid of the ancient tomb and threw the brothers' filthy bones back inside.
Only then did he set off. He walked for days until he reached Arequipa and then he headed to the southern coast. When at last he reached the sea, he kept on walking directly into it. There was no boat or ship to take him, but he didn't care. He simply kept on going in the right direction. The water washed around his feet and he felt his weight sink slightly into the sand. Shoals of sea life darted around him.
Soon his submerged body was walking along the seabed. His lank hair floated in back of him, along with his coattails, and his sword was drawn at his side.
On he went through night and day, through the light and dark of shallow and deep waters. As he walked he spoke these words:
“Drive my ancient spirit unto the sacred bird.
Deliver thy casket forged of silver. Prepare for the coming of the Angel, for he walks alone among the dead.”
Deliver thy casket forged of silver. Prepare for the coming of the Angel, for he walks alone among the dead.”
If he had said it a million times, he would surely say it a million times more. Over and over it went. He crushed small bones and fossils beneath his feet as he trod along the cloudy sea bed. His blade swished through the water, and on he marched, farther and farther into the sea.
In Search of the Ibis
Stanley and Daisy were deep in discussion about the Ibis. It was time to get their hands on it, whether Mrs. Carelli liked the idea or not. Perhaps she would be too busy cleaning to notice what they were up to.
“What's the plan then, Stanley?” asked Daisy cheerfully.
“The plan, Daisy, is that we don't have a plan,” he announced.
“Very well,” she sighed in an unconcerned fashion, and they set off together over the moor.
The wind was against them and it was harsh out on the hills. Most days you would feel the worst of the weather there, in one of its many forms.
They passed the old water mill and Stanley remembered the rough winter, when they had ventured out together into the blinding snow.
It wasn't long before they were back at the lake. It was calm and serene, save for the wind blowing ripples across the surface and the reeds shaking in the breeze.
Stanley and Daisy stood staring across the
water for some time. They did not really know what they should do about retrieving the pike, but it was peaceful and right now they were happy to sit and enjoy the moment.
water for some time. They did not really know what they should do about retrieving the pike, but it was peaceful and right now they were happy to sit and enjoy the moment.
Soon the wind dropped and the sun came out.
“We should have brought a picnic, Stanley,” laughed Daisy.
“Yes, too bad we are empty-handed,” said Stanley.
But at that moment the huge body of the pike leaped up out of the water and landed neatly in his arms. Freezing water drenched Stanley from head to foot and the icy body of the fish chilled him through.
The pike began to speak.
“Ahh, Stanley. I knew in my heart that you would have the good sense to return. Now let us take to the hills, and we can get me home,
where the warmth of the Hall awaits me. I have had quite enough of the dark depths of the lake. I don't think I shall be returning, not just yet!”
where the warmth of the Hall awaits me. I have had quite enough of the dark depths of the lake. I don't think I shall be returning, not just yet!”
Stanley and Daisy looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
“Come along, come along. I will catch cold out here in the open air,” instructed the pike. “Once you put me in place, we can discuss your next move. There is much to be done.”
“Do you still have the Ibis?” questioned Stanley.
“My dear boy, of course I do. Why do you underestimate me so?”
“I wasn't sure I could trust you once you'd entered the water!”
Stanley admitted. “Well in all my watery
days, I have never been so insulted,” the pike startedâand as the unlikely trio marched across the moor, the argument continued.
days, I have never been so insulted,” the pike startedâand as the unlikely trio marched across the moor, the argument continued.
Stanley and Daisy weren't sure how to best approach the house with the pike in hand. They decided to slip in through the coal bin at the back of the house and into the kitchen. From there they would sneak across the ground floor and wind their way unseen through the maze of corridors to where the bronze warrior stood in wait for them.
Gingerly, they crept toward the garden gate, taking a good look at the back of the house. All was quiet.
Unbeknownst to them, Mrs. Carelli was staring out of the bedroom window that looked out over the garden.
Something out on the moor caught her eye. She looked up: nothing. Must have been
a bird. As she moved to the back of the room, doing this and that, Stanley and Daisy quicky carried the pike across the lawn.
a bird. As she moved to the back of the room, doing this and that, Stanley and Daisy quicky carried the pike across the lawn.
Mrs. Carelli moved back to dust the window. She could hear noises, but by then Stanley and Daisy had clambered through the opening to the coal bin.
“Strange,” said Mrs. Carelli to herself. “Young Buggles is up to something, I swear it.”
She pressed her face to the window and peered down. But the three were already winding their way carefully through the corridors.
Their feet raced across the floor, and at last Stanley and Daisy reached the lonesome soldier.
Daisy tugged at the handle. It was stuck!
The familiar clang of Mrs. Carelli's brass
dustpan resounded nearby. They looked up in panic. She wasn't there, but she was close.
dustpan resounded nearby. They looked up in panic. She wasn't there, but she was close.
“Hurry, Daisy, hurry!” pleaded Stanley.
“I'm trying,” she panicked.
And then the pike started complaining. “Stanley, where is this? I did not request to be placed in this part of the house.”
“Quiet!” insisted Stanley.
“Is that you, Master Buggles?” came a familiar voice.
CLUNK. Daisy did it. But she was forced to pull the heavy door open by herself while Stanley stood with his arms full, feeling frustrated.
The gap was forced wide enough for them to sneak through. Once inside, they pulled it
shut, realizing that they were without a light to show the way. Daisy bravely went first, and pulled Stanley along because his arms were full.
shut, realizing that they were without a light to show the way. Daisy bravely went first, and pulled Stanley along because his arms were full.
“Ridiculous,” continued the pike. “It is as cold and dark in here as in the dreary lake. This is a punishment, is it not?”
They felt their way through the darkness.
“Where will we put him?” quizzed Daisy.
“What about the old cupboard?” suggested Stanley.
“Yes. Good,” said Daisy. When they finally reached it, Stanley was desperate to be rid of the pike's weight. He hurled it through the door, and it landed with a thud.
“This is nothing short of bullying and abuse!” persisted the pike. “I was not aware I would lose my status in the house simply because I've been away a short while. How
can I be an adviser from here? Ridiculous!”
can I be an adviser from here? Ridiculous!”
In the midst of the waves of protest, they closed the door on the ill-tempered pike. But his voice resounded through the casing of the cupboard. What if it echoed through the cave and was heard in the house?
Stanley gritted his teeth. “Please bear with us. We cannot let Mrs. Carelli know we've rescued you. It's either here or the lake, I'm afraid.”
Stanley knew that would shut him up and sure enough, the pike was absolutely silent. Stanley had great respect for the pike, but there were times when he had all the qualities of a badly behaved dog.
They closed the bronze door on the dear old pike and headed back into the hallway.
“That's sorted out then,” smiled Stanley, turning to Daisy, who was staring over his
shoulder. Mrs. Carelli was standing behind him, peering at the two of them, with one eyebrow raised.
shoulder. Mrs. Carelli was standing behind him, peering at the two of them, with one eyebrow raised.
“That's what sorted?” she asked. “You're up to something, Stanley. Something sinister. I do hope it's not one o' your crazy plans.”
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