Merrick - Anne Rice [99]
Neither of us dared take a step. The precious articles surrounding the burial were too beautifully arranged. We could see the ear ornaments now, glinting, as the soft moldering earth nearly swallowed them, and across the would-be chest of the being we saw a long richly carved scepter, which perhaps he had held in his hand.
“Look at all the debris,” she said. “No doubt he was wrapped in fabric full of precious amulets and sacrifices. Now the fabric’s gone and only the stone objects remain.”
There was a loud noise behind us. I could hear pottery smashing. Merrick gave a short cry, as though something had struck her.
Then willfully, indeed, as if driven, she plunged forward, dropped to her knees, and picked up the brilliant green mask. She darted back with it, away from the remains of the corpse.
A flying stone struck me on the forehead. Something shoved at my back.
“Come on, let’s leave the rest for the archaeologists,” she said. “I have what I came for. It’s what Oncle Vervain told me to get.”
“The mask? You mean you knew all the time there was a mask in this tunnel, and that’s what you wanted?”
She was already on her way to the outside air.
Scarcely had I caught up with her when she was pushed backwards.
“I’m taking it, I have to have it,” she declared.
As we both tried to continue, something unseen blocked our path. I reached out. I could touch it. It was like a soft silent wall of energy.
Merrick suddenly gave over her flashlight to me and in both hands she held the mask.
At any other time of my life, I would have been admiring it, for it had an immense amount of expression and detail. Though there were holes for eyes and a gash for the mouth, all features were deeply contoured and the gloss of the thing was beautiful in itself.
As it was, I moved with all my strength against this force that sought to block me, lifting both flashlights as if they were clubs.
Merrick again startled me with a gasp. She held the mask to her face, and as she turned to look at me it appeared brilliant and faintly ghastly in the light. It seemed suspended in the darkness, for I could scarce make out her hands or her body at all.
She turned it away from me, still holding it to her face. And again there came a gasp from her.
The air in the cave fell silent and still.
All I could hear was her breathing and then my own. It seemed she began to whisper something in a foreign tongue, though I didn’t know what tongue it was.
“Merrick?” I asked gently. In the abrupt and welcome stillness, the air of the cave felt moist and sweetly cool. “Merrick,” I said again, but I could not rouse her. She stood with the mask over her face, peering ahead of us, and then, with a surprising gesture, she ripped the thing away and gave it over to me.
“Take it, look through it,” she whispered.
I shoved my flashlight through my belt loop, gave hers back to her, and took the mask in both hands. I remember those little gestures because they were so ordinary, and I didn’t know yet what I thought about the stillness around us or the dimness in which we stood.
Far, far away was the greenery of the jungle, and everywhere above us and around us the coarse but beautiful mosaics glittered with their tiny bits of stone.
I lifted the mask as she had directed me. A swimming sensation overcame me. I took several steps backwards, but whatever else I did, I don’t know. The mask remained in place and my hands remained on it, and all else had subtly changed.
The cave was full of flaring torches, there was the sound of someone chanting in a low and repetitive manner, and before me in the dimness there stood a figure, wavering as if he were not entirely solid, but rather made of silk, and left to the mercy of the scant draught from the entrance of the cave.
I could see his expression clearly, though not define it entirely or say what