Michael Belmont and the Tomb of Anubis (The Adventures of Michael Belmont) (21 page)

"Excuse me, sir," said Michael.
 
"But do your people have the ability to change form whenever they want to?
 
It certainly appeared that way last night."

"Well, it works like this.
 
We can change form whenever we want, but we become stronger as the light of the moon increases.
 
However, with this blessin', there comes a curse.
 
The fuller the moon, the less control we have, until finally durin' the
full
moon, our people become mindless creatures, unable to control our actions or thoughts.
 
That's a dangerous time for us, as well as anyone who happens to be around."

"Why are
you
so interested all of a sudden?" Ulf growled, thumping Michael meanly on the head.

"Oh," he responded, trying to ignore the pain.
 
"I just find it all er, very fascinating."

Liam looked at him as though he suspected Michael might be losing his mind.

"And who can blame the boy?" Fenris boomed to his friend.
 
"Besides, it's good for our pups here to know the history of their people."

Michael took a closer look at the children.
 
There were four boys and two girls.
 
One of the boys really stood out.
 
He looked to be about six or seven years old, had a very sad face, and kept his eyes cast toward the ground the whole time they were talking.

"What about the…um, the thirst for human blood?
 
Is that part of the curse as well?" Michael asked.

"Let's just say that's more of a family tradition," chuckled Fenris.
 
"Of course, when we've been moonstruck we have no control over what or who we attack.
 
We'll eat just about anythin', except for each other.
 
As for a thirst for human blood, well, it's no stronger than the thirst one occasionally has for say, bangers and mash?"

Both Fenris and Ulf began to laugh, but Michael and Liam felt like they were going to be sick.

"And what of the magical staff?" Michael tried hard to ignore his upset stomach.
 
"Do your people still have it?"

At this, Fenris made a look that could have curdled milk.

"No," he said angrily.
 
"The staff was stolen from our people when my father was murdered by a despicable, thievin' dog named Shamus McGinty, nearly twenty years ago.
 
Our village was raided and plundered in an attempt to wipe my people out of existence.
 
Since then we've relocated and rebuilt.
 
It hasn't been easy, but we've managed to survive."

Michael found it interesting that this man, who was a monster, thief, and murderer, was angry with someone else for allegedly committing the same crimes that he was so proud of carrying out himself.

"Unfortunately, I never got to exact my revenge on the old badger.
 
He's presumably dead.
 
But now that our people are strong once again, someday soon we're goin' to raid that castle of his.
 
We'll taste the blood of his every livin' relative, and recover what is rightfully ours."

Michael nodded, as if to say he understood and agreed with what Fenris was saying.
 
He looked at Liam out of the corner of his eye.
 
It was a good thing that these creatures had no idea where they'd really come from.

"Well, enough talk."
 
Fenris put a smile back on his face.
 
"There's still work to be done, and I can tell you pups more about all this when we've got more time."
 
He reached down and scratched a few of them behind the ears.

"You two," he pointed to Michael and Liam, "get over there and help brin' over some more fire wood."

He turned around to walk away, but then turned to Michael once again.
 
"You may be alright lad, you may be alright, but, sorry to say, I'm still going to eat your sister."

Later that afternoon, the celebration began.
 
There was feasting, music, and dancing, and if Michael had been able to forget their predicament, even for a moment, he may have been tempted to enjoy himself.
 
As things stood however, his little sister was going to be slaughtered, his best friend was going to be saved for slaughter, and he himself would either be facing the same fate, or even worse, be turned into one of these horrible creatures.

Michael and Liam were given seats at a table with the other children.
 
As they were sitting there, a particularly hairy woman walked by and scruffed up the hair of a dog faced, pre-teen girl.
 
"Don't get attached to them, dear," she said nodding her head toward the two of them.
 
"Remember that they're livestock, not pets."

The girl smiled at them, revealing sharp, canine teeth, and Liam gave Michael a distasteful frown.

Food was brought out and placed before them, and although they were starving, both felt too sick to eat anything.
 
Besides, the food looked normal, but neither boy was going to fully trust anything that was served to them by man-eating werewolves.

The festivities went on, and after about an hour, Michael saw two women walking out from the huts, dragging a reluctant hostage between them.
 
It was Abigail.
 
She was wearing an elegant white dress, and her long blonde hair was braided behind her.
 
She was kicking and fighting as best as she could, but the two large women who were leading her along easily restrained her.

They carried the girl out to the middle of the clearing, and tied her to a large pole as all the villagers around them cheered.

Liam began to tap Michael frantically on the arm.
 
"I see her," he whispered.
 
"We need to help her somehow."

Before he could make a move, Ulf walked up behind them.
 
"Hey, twerp," he said.
 
"If you want to say goodbye to your sister, you'd better do it now."

Michael got up and ran toward Abigail as fast as he could.

When he got to her, he expected to find her crying, but she really just looked angry.

"Are you okay?"
 
Michael tried to stay calm, but his whole body was shaking.

"Yes."
 
Her voice was weak and raspy from all the screaming.
 
"But I don't think they intend to keep things that way."

"Abby, it's going to be okay.
 
I don't know what we are going to do yet, but, well, we're going to think of something."

"Well, you'd better do it quick," she told him.
 
"Actually, I may know of someone who might be able to help."

"Really?" Michael was surprised to hear it.
 
"WHO?"

"I met a boy this morning.
 
He's actually very nice, he's not like the rest of them."

Michael listened intently.

"They call him Wolfie.
 
He told me he was six years old."

Michael remembered the boy who had looked at the ground earlier that day when they'd been speaking to Fenris.

"I think I know who you're talking about.
 
Is it the sad looking kid with black hair?"

"Yeah, that's him.
 
He told me he may be able to get us out of this, but he seemed scared.
 
You need to find him, and convince him to help."

"I will," he told her with a determined look on his face.
 
"I love you Abby, we're going to be okay."

"I love you too," she began to weep miserably.
 
"I'm sorry I've been such a pest lately."

"It's okay, I wouldn't trade you for anything."

"Go, you need to hurry, we don't have much time."

He kissed her, and reluctantly walked back to his table.

Liam, who'd been watching them the whole time, leaned over to him.
 
"Is she alright?"

Michael told him about everything she had said.

"Yeah, I remember that kid too," Liam whispered.
 
"He didn't look too happy about the things Fenris was saying."

"We need to find him right away and speak with him."
 
Michael began to rise from the table, just as Ulf came up behind them.
 
He placed a large strong hand on each of their shoulders.

"Come on," he said gruffly.
 
"Unless you two want to end up as a late night snack, it's time to put you both in the cage."

Ulf slammed the door on the large iron cage.
 
Thick iron bars surrounded them on every side and across the top.

"You'll be safe in here."
 
Ulf sneered, as if he regretted that fact.
 
"Just stay in the center of the cage, and don't expect to get any sleep tonight."
 
He laughed to himself as he walked away.

They could still see the clearing, as well as Abigail.
 
The villagers had lit a bonfire and were now waiting for the sun to go down.

Michael was on the verge of becoming frantic, when he noticed the small form of a boy crouching in the shadows near the tree line off to their right.
 
He waved, but the boy remained motionless.
 
He had to draw him over somehow.
 
"Hey," he whispered loudly, "come here for a minute."

The boy stared at him for a moment before cautiously creeping over to them.

"Hi, my name is Michael, and this is my friend Liam." Michael smiled and Liam nodded politely.
 
"Are you Wolfie?"

"That's what THEY call me," he responded angrily.
 
"But I
hate
it."

"Oh, sorry," Michael apologized.
 
He wanted to be careful not to offend the boy and scare him off.
 
"What
do
you like to be called?"

"My name is
Raymond
."
 
He seemed to calm down a bit.

Michael reached up to hold the bars.
 
"Nice to meet you.
 
That's my sister Abigail over there, the one tied to the pole."

"I know," he said sadly, lowering his face back to the ground.

"She seemed to think that you might be able to help us."

The boy immediately raised his head, where a look of hope gleamed in his eyes.
 
Then, just as quickly it was replaced by a look of despair.
 
"Well, I don't know.
 
I'd like to try, but they'll kill me if they find out.
 
Besides, I don't even know if it would work."

"You keep calling them
'they'
," said Liam.
 
"Are you saying that you aren't one of them?"
 
It just occurred to Michael that the boy wasn't speaking with a Scottish accent.
 
He sounded like an American.
 
Liam must have noticed this from the beginning.

"No," he said quickly, "I mean, I didn't used to be."

"What do you mean?" Michael urged him.

The boy began to sob.

Michael suddenly realized that this kid might need their help as much as they needed his.
 
"It's okay, you can trust us.
 
Tell us what happened."

"Well," said Raymond, "My parents and I were site-seeing when our car broke down.
 
My father went to look for help, but after a long time, he didn't come back.
 
Then THEY showed up and brought my mother and I here.
 
They locked me up in a cage in one of their huts, and I never saw either of my parents again."

He began to weep uncontrollably.
 
Michael and Liam looked at each other, both wondering if this boy's mother had fallen victim to the same fate that now awaited Abigail.

"The chief decided they should make me one of them, and I've been living here ever since."

"Listen," Michael told him.
 
"Maybe we can help each other, if we get out of here we can take you with us, but we need to act
now
.
 
Is there really something you can do to help us?"

Raymond jumped to his feet.
 
"Maybe," he said.
 
"I'll try."
 
And then he shot off into the trees without another word.

Liam winced nervously.
 
"What do you think he's up too?"

"I don't know, but whatever it is, I hope he hurries.
 
At most, I think we've only got a few hours."

The party continued while the two boys sat in the cage, waiting for Raymond to return.
 
It seemed like an eternity, as the fear and anxiety gnawed away at them, yet all they could do was wait.

The sun dipped behind the tree line, and as each minute passed, the sky grew darker.
 
It became harder to see Abigail off in the distance, but as the villagers added wood to the bonfire, the light bounced off her white dress, and they watched as she struggled with the ropes that bound her to the pole.

All of a sudden, the crowd became silent, something was happening.
 
They heard the sound of a heavy drumbeat coming from the clearing, and watched in horror as the villagers began to change shape, howling to the beat and raising a maniacal song into the cool night air.
 
A small group of were-wolves began to circle Abigail, who screamed in fear as the creatures closed in on her.

The nearly full moon was now shining brightly in the sky just above the tree-line, occasionally peaking out from the dark clouds which passed overhead.

Michael and Liam stood holding the bars of their cage, looking out into the horrific scene that unfolded before them.
 
The werewolves danced and ran about in a frenzy, and no one in the camp now remained in their human form.
 
The boys could do nothing but stand there and wait.
 
Michael's heart sunk a little further every second; his eyes fixed only on his little sister.
 
He had never loved her more than he did at this moment.
 
He couldn't lose her to these creatures.
 
He refused to accept the idea.