Silver Tomb (The Lazarus Longman Chronicles Book 2) by P. J. Thorndyke
Authors: P. J. Thorndyke
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fabulous!”
After some bickering about who was going to lower whom, Lazarus let Katarina down into the chamber, and then fastened the rope around the base of a pillar and climbed down, wincing at the burning of his palms as he slipped a few feet.
He found himself in a wide chamber the corners of which could not be illuminated at one time by Petrie’s lamp. They stood in a basin that looked like it had been built to contain water. A block stood in the centre of it with a hole in the middle that had been used to receive a pole of some sort, probably the polished bronze mirror that had been used to direct the light of the moon. Petrie was over by the far wall examining the paintings and the hieroglyphics with acute interest. Lazarus joined him.
“Magnificent!” Petrie was saying, over and over again. “Look at the style! It’s Amarna period to a tee!”
Lazarus could indeed make out the images of Akhenaten and Nefertiti and their children in the distinctive realist style of their reign. The crescent disc of the moon hovered above, shining down its rays, just as images of the sun did at Akhetaten. But whereas those rays often ended in little hands or ankhs symbolizing the life given by the sun, these rays of the moon ended in the symbol of the amenta , representing the western horizon and the taking away of life. “If there was ever proof needed that we are in the city of death, then this is it,” remarked Lazarus.
“Can you two drop your scholarly interest for once and think about what we’re here to do?” said Katarina, showing uncharacteristic nervousness.
“Actually this is what I’m here to do,” said Petrie. “But I suppose my job will be easier if you two get rid of that American fellow and Mademoiselle Rousseau. Here’s a doorway, my goodness, it goes off in two directions. Which to take?”
“It’s probably a bloody maze down here,” said Lazarus, peering down each of the dark corridors. “What’s the plan? Split up?”
“Of all the stupidest ideas you’ve had since I met you, Longman,” growled Katarina, “that is the worst.”
“Surely you’re not scared down here, Katarina?” Lazarus asked, knowing that she could make out the grin on his face even in the dim light. “You have two strong men here to protect you.”
Katarina’s face turned to one of rage as she snatched the lamp from Petrie and headed off down the left corridor, her pistol cocked and held out, ready to shoot anything that got in her way.
“Well, at least she’s not pointing it at me,” Lazarus mumbled.
Chapter Nine
In which the experiments of Dr. Lindholm are revealed
Lazarus was reminded, with a certain degree of trepidation, of the labyrinthine tunnels beneath the lake in Arizona that connected the seven golden cities of Cibola. But whereas those tunnels were rough and hewn from the living rock, these were lined with well-cut bricks which made every turn sharp and angular. They passed through a series of rooms, richly decorated and clearly used for priestly functions. Nowhere were there images of deities common in other Egyptian temples—Anubis, Hathor, Osiris and Ra—only the image of the moon and its rays, bouncing off the walls in geometric lines.
“Stop!” hissed Lazarus, grabbing Petrie and motioning Katarina to halt her steady march into the unknown.
“What is it?” she demanded, holding the lamp up to his face. As she did so, she became suddenly aware that she no longer needed it. Lamps had been set up at regular intervals down the corridors.
“I think we’re nearing the viper’s lair,” Lazarus said. “Proceed carefully.”
There came a sound from the far end of a corridor that branched off to the right. It was a kind of scuffling, stomping sound, not slow, but fast and juddering. Lazarus was sure he was not the only one who was put in mind of a giant beetle scuttling down the passageway towards them.
The corridor was cloaked in blackness, but the three of them became
After some bickering about who was going to lower whom, Lazarus let Katarina down into the chamber, and then fastened the rope around the base of a pillar and climbed down, wincing at the burning of his palms as he slipped a few feet.
He found himself in a wide chamber the corners of which could not be illuminated at one time by Petrie’s lamp. They stood in a basin that looked like it had been built to contain water. A block stood in the centre of it with a hole in the middle that had been used to receive a pole of some sort, probably the polished bronze mirror that had been used to direct the light of the moon. Petrie was over by the far wall examining the paintings and the hieroglyphics with acute interest. Lazarus joined him.
“Magnificent!” Petrie was saying, over and over again. “Look at the style! It’s Amarna period to a tee!”
Lazarus could indeed make out the images of Akhenaten and Nefertiti and their children in the distinctive realist style of their reign. The crescent disc of the moon hovered above, shining down its rays, just as images of the sun did at Akhetaten. But whereas those rays often ended in little hands or ankhs symbolizing the life given by the sun, these rays of the moon ended in the symbol of the amenta , representing the western horizon and the taking away of life. “If there was ever proof needed that we are in the city of death, then this is it,” remarked Lazarus.
“Can you two drop your scholarly interest for once and think about what we’re here to do?” said Katarina, showing uncharacteristic nervousness.
“Actually this is what I’m here to do,” said Petrie. “But I suppose my job will be easier if you two get rid of that American fellow and Mademoiselle Rousseau. Here’s a doorway, my goodness, it goes off in two directions. Which to take?”
“It’s probably a bloody maze down here,” said Lazarus, peering down each of the dark corridors. “What’s the plan? Split up?”
“Of all the stupidest ideas you’ve had since I met you, Longman,” growled Katarina, “that is the worst.”
“Surely you’re not scared down here, Katarina?” Lazarus asked, knowing that she could make out the grin on his face even in the dim light. “You have two strong men here to protect you.”
Katarina’s face turned to one of rage as she snatched the lamp from Petrie and headed off down the left corridor, her pistol cocked and held out, ready to shoot anything that got in her way.
“Well, at least she’s not pointing it at me,” Lazarus mumbled.
Chapter Nine
In which the experiments of Dr. Lindholm are revealed
Lazarus was reminded, with a certain degree of trepidation, of the labyrinthine tunnels beneath the lake in Arizona that connected the seven golden cities of Cibola. But whereas those tunnels were rough and hewn from the living rock, these were lined with well-cut bricks which made every turn sharp and angular. They passed through a series of rooms, richly decorated and clearly used for priestly functions. Nowhere were there images of deities common in other Egyptian temples—Anubis, Hathor, Osiris and Ra—only the image of the moon and its rays, bouncing off the walls in geometric lines.
“Stop!” hissed Lazarus, grabbing Petrie and motioning Katarina to halt her steady march into the unknown.
“What is it?” she demanded, holding the lamp up to his face. As she did so, she became suddenly aware that she no longer needed it. Lamps had been set up at regular intervals down the corridors.
“I think we’re nearing the viper’s lair,” Lazarus said. “Proceed carefully.”
There came a sound from the far end of a corridor that branched off to the right. It was a kind of scuffling, stomping sound, not slow, but fast and juddering. Lazarus was sure he was not the only one who was put in mind of a giant beetle scuttling down the passageway towards them.
The corridor was cloaked in blackness, but the three of them became
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