18

Tomb Sweet Tomb

Nick entered the mausoleum and closed the metal door to keep the wind from blowing in. A chill shivered down his spine when he eyed a deadbolt on the back of the door. A deadbolt on the inside of a tomb? He wasn’t sure how to process that bit of strangeness, but, reflexively, he slid the deadbolt into the doorframe.

When he turned around, he saw the Kareima glowing richly in Lottica's palm, giving the tomb an oddly warm, embryonic glow. The Kareima’s light easily outshone the anemic flashlight beam. The inside of the mausoleum was snug: about eight feet by ten feet. Directly opposite the door, the sarcophagus rested, a solid cement box about eight feet long, four feet wide and three feet high topped with a thick lid of decorative concrete.

It was hard to believe that their parents were in there. Nick and Lottica had not seen their parents' bodies since they were removed from the house on the night of the explosion. At the funeral, their grandparents had explained that their parents lay side-by-side in the sarcophagus, as was customary in Lebreima.

Nick shivered at the thought of his parents in that cold, dark concrete box. Nevertheless, he stepped forward to where his sister was peering intently at the top of the sarcophagus. Letting the flashlight follow her eyes down, Nick‘s eyes widened at what the flashlight illuminated. On the lid of the sarcophagus was an engraved hawk with the inscription: Lebreima lumeinatus de Kareima.

"I don't remember seeing this before," Nick admitted to her.

"Me either, or if I did, it didn't really register.” Lottica sighed heavily. “What do you think it all means?"

Nick knew she wasn't talking about the translation. They knew what the words meant in English: The Heartstone of Lebreima burns with life. Lottica was asking a bigger question. Why were their parents dead? Why did their grandparents want to take them to Lebreima? Who were these men in capes chasing them? What exactly was the Kareima?

"I wish I knew,” Nick said with a shrug. Then he swept the paling beam of the flashlight around the mausoleum and brought it to bear on the engraved hawk. "Though, even you have to admit that hiding out in your parents’ tomb on Halloween night must make all those dead parent stories you've read seem about as scary as Snow White."

"Nick, that was a dead parent story, too,” Lottica huffed, “and Snow White was poisoned by a witch."

"Okay, but you know what I mean. Those were just stories. This is for real."

Lottica didn't say anything, her eyes fixed on the engraved hawk. She put her index finger on it and began to trace the outline.

"Shine the light here, Nick."

He pointed the flashlight at her finger as she moved it down the concrete.

"Do you see it?" she asked him.

"What?"

"A crack. It goes all the way to the edge." She moved around to what she assumed was the front end of the sarcophagus, and a grating sound at her feet startled them both.

"What was that?" Nick asked.

"Shine the flashlight down here."

Nick knelt and put the light at Lottica's feet. Broken cement was scattered near the base of the sarcophagus. Lottica’s shoes had scraped over small pieces of concrete. Nick moved the light up to where Lottica's finger had traced to the edge, and then they both understood where it had come from. The concrete lip of the sarcophagus was cracked as if someone had tried to pry up the lid.

The realization staggered them: someone had tried to pry open their parents' sarcophagus. A grave robber!

"That's why there was no lock on the door. It was cut off." Nick reasoned.

Lottica shook her head in dismay. "Why would anyone do that?"

KAAAA-KLANG!

Lottica shrieked at the enormous bang on the metal door behind them. Nick dropped the flashlight, and its faint but welcome beam went dark.

Outside someone was pounding furiously to break in. To get at them.

Fortunately, the deadbolt Nick had fastened thwarted whoever was trying to enter. The ferocious banging reverberated in the chamber as if Nick and Lottica were in an empty oil drum. They retreated to the far side, pressed against their parents' sarcophagus.

Abruptly, the pounding stopped. The silence unnerved the children as much as the loud banging had. After a few tense moments, they heard low voices outside, though they could not make out what was being said.

Lottica suppressed an urge to scream. Instead, she shouted, "Leave us alone!"

A hearty, somewhat engaging laugh boomed through the metal door. Then the heavily accented voice Lottica had heard once before filtered into the chamber. "I told you that Lebreima was no place for you or your parents. Here you can be together. We will leave you alone."

Nick lunged towards the metal door and yelled, "What do you want from us?"

"For you to stay in America and for the Kareima to return to its home in Lebreima."

"But, it's our father's," Lottica pleaded.

"It should never have been!" The voice outside had suddenly turned sharp and bitter. "It is mine! Rightfully, it belongs in Lebreima with the Fareima, its sister stone. You must return it."

The Fareima? Lottica visualized the fiery red gemstone that hung around the caped man's neck. She couldn't stomach the thought of giving her father's treasure to this terrible man.

"No!" she screamed back through the door.

"Time is a great teacher," came the voice through the door, once again composed and commanding. Almost immediately, the children heard a brief clinking of metal and a solid mechanical click, then the cool voice, "Think about it, little Breimas. We'll soon be back with our tools."

In the stunned silence that followed, Nick and Lottica heard receding footsteps. They remained motionless for a few moments, and then Nick slid back the deadbolt and pushed on the door. It didn’t budge. His hand searched for the inner latch and found it, but it would not lift. The caped men had imprisoned them in their parents’ tomb.