"Are you telling me he's dead?"
"If he's lucky."
The Librarians were almost done with the recovery. Given the warning Jenkins had given them about this outing, they had been expecting a lot more trouble. The region was a hot spot for magic, with multiple Lay Lines in area. When all got active at the same time, as was happening now, enchantment was everywhere, and not always in the best way. The clipping book sent them, all of them, to recover a box said to contain a cursed item. As long as it remained sealed, everything was fine, but someone had cracked the seal, ever so slightly. Not yet open, but ominously threatening. Even Jenkins didn't know exactly what was in there, and he didn't seem all that anxious to find out.
But it had been very straight forward, with the box being exactly where it was expected to be – on display in a small local museum as a piece of regional history. Nothing more than a knickknack someone had found clearing land for planting. It was smaller than they thought, not much bigger than a deck of cards. There was only one museum guard, really more of a docent, who had been easily manipulated by Jones's theft of a nearby figurine.
Jacob Stone started to wonder if there was more to all of this than they had seen on the surface. The clipping book didn't generally make mistakes like this, and Jenkins, for all of his bluster, was not prone to hyperbole. He had been worried about this one, and yet it had been the easiest recovery Jacob could remember. Still, something didn't feel right. Maybe his Librarian sense was kicking in a bit, but he had the distinct impression taking this box through the portal back to the Library was not a good idea.
"Jones – hold up a minute."
"Why – I want to get back. I have plans for the evening that can still work out"
"Whatever you plan to steal will still be there tomorrow – we need to talk about this. Cassandra darlin', let me see the box for a minute." Whenever he got tired or anxious, his Midwestern drawl kicked in a little more than usual. She liked it.
She handed him the bag she'd had slung over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know – but I got a feelin' something is." He reached into the bag and unwrapped the box from the scarf they'd secured it with. It was warm to the touch, much more that it should have been. It looked to him like there was a faint glow to it as well, but that could be the sunlight on it. Dropping the bag, he walked over to a more sheltered area, away from the glare. In the shade of the buildings he could see the source. The small crack in the seal was emitting a faint pale green glow.
"Did you guys see this before? Was there light here"
"I don't think so, but we never really took the time to look." Cassandra took a couple of steps forward, but Jake held up one hand, stopping her. "Do you think maybe you should wrap it up again?"
"Call Jenkins and ask him about this. Tell him the box is getting warmer too. And it's…" The box started vibrating in his hand, and he watched almost hypnotized as the crack spread to break the seal. He tried to drop it, but couldn't seem to let go. The lid flung back violently and the glow flashed to light the area, then disappeared.
He could hear Jones and Cassandra calling his name, shouting at him to drop the box, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak. The box had come alive in his hand and was transforming. Almost snake like it began to unfold and wrap itself around his wrist, tightening like bands of leather. The pain started slowly but began to spread up his arm. He'd been hurt in the past, thrown from a horse or falling from a rigging, not to mention countless Saturday night bar brawls. But nothing that came close to this. A stabbing fire shot up his arm, his shoulder and into his chest. He couldn't help the scream he let out, already feeling the guilt for scaring the others. And he could see they were scared – terrified in fact. But he couldn't stop. The shots of pain kept coming, radiating through his limbs and torso until he could stand no longer and collapsed to the pavement below. His friends tried to come near, but he shouted them off, forcing a voice that he didn't believe he had the strength for. "Get out – get away – get help." His head dropped with one more anguished cry, then there was silence.
They watched him on the ground, unmoving for several seconds until there were signs of life again. Slowly, with his back to them, he stood up, extending his arms, flexing his joints and stretching out his neck muscles. Cassandra to a couple of steps toward him, speechless with relief that whatever that had been was over. Then he turned and she froze in place. Jake's warm blue eyes were ice black, and almost physically pierced through her. His friendly smile was an evil sneer, and the voice was quite clearly from the depths of some kind of hell. "You heard the man – get away. Get help – not that you'll find any."
He swept his arm towards them and they were sent flying backwards. He turned and walked away, not looking back.
.-.. .-.. .-.. .-.. .-..
Jenkins didn't even look up from his research when the library door opened. "Put the box in the container on the table and lock it. I'll put it into storage when I finish with this." When he got no response he raised his eyes. One look at the duo in front of him resulted in a pit in his stomach that went right down to his toes. "The box was opened?"
"It opened on its own, after we took it. Stone was holding it. I think he knew something was wrong. He didn't want it in the library for some reason."
Cassandra just stared wide eyed at Jenkins, unable to speak yet.
"And exactly where is Mr. Stone?" Neither of them could answer. Jenkins reached over to his phone and hit speed dial. He hated the modern technology, but it was convenient when one was in a hurry. "Colonel, I believe we have an issue that requires your assistance. Mr. Flynn as well if he is…oh, very well. That does seem to be important as well. But I believe you will want to get here as quickly as possible." He was quiet for a moment as he listened, trying to form his answer. "I believe…I'm afraid we have lost Mr. Stone."