The Eighth Key: #1 Tomb Raider
Keiji Matsuzaki lifted the lantern higher over his head. Its warm glow illuminated the shadowed entrance to the tomb, casting a flickering light over the sandy steps.
"Layla, you down there?" he called. Though he had been an egyptologist for many years now, the idea of exploring the old tomb in the dead of night did not fail to unnerve him.
"Layla?" he called again. He could see his breath rise upon the air. The desert was bitterly cold, and its silence remained unbroken by a reply.
Reluctantly, Keiji lowered his lantern and descended into the tomb. At the bottom of the stairs, he found the iron gate ajar. The key rested carelessly in the padlock. He sighed. No matter how many times he emphasized the importance of safety measures, Layla always neglected such precautions.
A sudden noise from inside the tomb startled Keiji out of his thoughts. It sounded very much like metal being struck against stone, a hammer perhaps. Keiji furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. The heavy excavations had been completed several months ago. All that remained was to document and decipher the numerous rows of hieroglyphics that lined the walls of the burial chamber. What, then, could Layla possibly be doing that would require the assistance of such a destructive tool?
Keiji continued on into the tomb, curious as to what his wife had discovered. He was now entering the antechamber, and peering into the darkness ahead, he could just make out the silhouettes of the two giant statues that kept watch over the inner chamber. Two pairs of ruby eyes glared out at him from the jackal-headed guardians. Keiji shuddered as a sudden wave of apprehension overtook him. He could not understand how Layla could study comfortably in such conditions. When he had asked her before why she preferred to work at night, she had answered that she needed the silence in order to concentrate. Now, he wondered how the ancient gods, the legends, and the curses, could fail to stimulate her imagination to anxiety, as they often did his.
Another sharp sound cut through the tomb. Yes, definitely a hammer. Keiji quickened his pace and passed the silent sentinels. He half expected to see their heads turn to follow his motion as he crossed through the door, but, of course, they did not. His lantern cast dancing shadows along the rough walls of the narrow tunnel as he moved along, and up ahead, where the passageway took a sharp turn to the left, another orange light gleamed upon the floor.
"Layla, what are you doing down here?" he inquired. He took the turn and found his wife scrutinizing the wall, a peculiar expression upon her face. With a small frown, she ran her fingers over a single hieroglyphic.
"What is it?" he asked, peering over her shoulder at the strange mark.
"It's a curse," she whispered, "a curse upon us all."
Keiji frowned. "You're trying to scare me again, aren't you?" he accused.
Layla did not respond. Instead, she spread her palm flat against the stone wall. Taking a shuddering breath, she let her hand slide down a few centimeters.
"Layla," he said, "Layla, answer me."
Suddenly, she spun to face him. Her hands found his shoulders, and she clung to him desperately, as if he were her only support. "We've made a terrible mistake," she confessed.
"What? What mistake?" Keiji forced himself to stand firm. She was scaring him more than his surroundings. He had never seen Layla this frightened, this fragile. What on earth had come over her?
"The key," she murmured. "We should never have sent it to Sakura."
"Why? What's wrong with it?"
"These hieroglyphics," she said, gesturing to the wall she had been studying, "are identical to those found in the tomb of the Nameless Pharaoh. They tell of the Shadow Games and the Millennium Items, but there is one vital difference. Here, it is not the Pharaoh that is credited with locking away the monsters."
"Then, who is?" Keiji asked, almost impatiently. The tomb, the hour, and his wife's strange behavior were all straining his nerves. He could feel his neck starting to ache from the tension. How much longer would it take her to explain what was going on? He could not help her until he knew what the problem was.
Layla paused to study the hieroglyphics once more. "It refers here to the Blue Phoenix," she said, pointing to the symbol she had been examining when he had first arrived. "It says..."
"The Blue Phoenix rose out of the sea in a fury to strike down those corrupted by the dark Shadow Magic and to seal away the Millennium Items until such a time that those destined to hold them returned to this world," Keiji interrupted, translating the lines from right to left with an ease that his wife could not match. "I fail to see the connection between this 'Blue Phoenix' and our Sakura," he concluded in frustration.
"If you would settle down and practice a bit of patience, maybe I could explain it to you," his wife snapped. It seemed she was finally returning to her natural disposition. Relieved by this sudden flash of reality, Keiji honored his wife's wishes and let her continue.
"With ancient powers at her command, the Blue Phoenix trapped the Dark Lord in a prism of light. His darkness shall not again strike, for an Eighth Key must now be traced before King Chaos can take his place. The Key of Life her immortal soul guards from this moment forward by destiny's cards. A curse to those that enter this tomb, when they find the Key that brings their doom."
"It sounds almost like poetry," Keiji commented lightly, when Layla had finished reading.
"Why do you sound so unconcerned all of a sudden?" Layla demanded. "We just sent a cursed birthday present to our niece!"
Keiji laughed. "It is just a story, honey," he said, carefully keeping his tone of voice calm and good-natured.
Layla stared at him incredulously for a good minute, and Keiji felt his smile falter.
"How many times have I been on the opposite side of this argument?" his wife asked suddenly. "On how many occasions have I been the one to convince you not to believe in all of these ancient legends?"
Keiji was at a loss for words. He did not know how to answer without incriminating himself. Indeed, she had been the one to convince him many times not to read into the mythology of ancient Egypt.
"Exactly!" Layla exclaimed in response to his silence. "And am I to believe that only now do you refuse to acknowledge your fears?"
Keiji sighed audibly. "Layla, the fact that I get nervous in a dark tomb does not mean that I believe all the curses engraved upon its walls. Honesty, darling, I thought I was the only one here with an over-active imagination."
His wife glared at him defiantly. "Fine," she said. "It matters not how you choose to believe. I have strength enough on my own, I think, to purge this hall of all records." Returning her attention to the wall and the symbols carved into its stone face, Layla reached down to her side and grabbed something from the utility belt at her waist.
"What do you mean by 'purge'?" Keiji asked. Layla could not possibly intend to destroy these ancient markings! The history they bore was invaluable! Unfortunately, Keiji's suspicions were soon confirmed as Layla raised a hammer roughly the length of her forearm and struck the wall.
Keiji watched in horror as the metal scratched along the stone. It seemed all he could do was stare; he was too shocked to move, to speak. This had to be a nightmare! Each time the hammer struck, he felt a dagger plunge into his heart. This tomb had been his greatest discovery. All his life, he had dreamed of a finding of this significance, of a secret that would drastically alter the history of Ancient Egypt as it was known in this day and age. And now, the proof was gone. His wife was erasing it before his very eyes!
The symbol of the Blue Phoenix crumbled and fell to the ground as dust. Keiji gasped. "Stop!" he cried, but Layla betrayed no sign of acknowledgement, so captivated was she by her present task.
"Stop!" he cried again, "Stop!" Finally remembering his limbs, Keiji lunged forward and seized his wife. They struggled with each other for a minute before Keiji managed to steal the hammer away.
"You don't understand!" Layla protested. "These hieroglyphics must not be seen by unfriendly eyes."
"What eyes?" Keiji exclaimed. He made a mock show of searching the shadows surrounding them and then cursed loudly, hurling the hammer a good twenty feet down the passageway and towards the inner chamber. A dull clang echoed throughout the tomb as the instrument collided with the far wall.
Keiji did not wait for a second sound to follow. Instead, he spun back to face his wife and stared at her fiercely. "These there symbols are of a historical value beyond measure," he shouted. "How dare you destroy them? How dare you?!"
"It must be done," Layla answered. Her tone was desperate, and her statements rushed. "When I was young, my father told me of this group of bandits called the Khadim Zalam, the servants of darkness. They would raid the tombs of the ancient pharaohs in hopes of finding the ... a certain artifact which could resurrect their leader..."
"What a load of rubbish!" Keiji interrupted. "Those were fables meant to frighten children into obedience, nothing more. How is it that you act on them like some fanatic, vandalizing tombs because of some mindless superstition?" Unable to contain his fury, Keiji grabbed Layla's shoulders and shook her violently. "What is the matter with you? Have you been possessed?!"
Suddenly, they were interrupted by cold laughter. "I quite agree with you, Keiji Matsuzaki, these hieroglyphics are extremely valuable. However, your wife does make a very good point. I would not be so quick to dismiss her insight, if I were in your current position."
Keiji froze, staring at Layla whom he still held firmly by the shoulders. She was gazing at a point past his head with wide dark-brown eyes.
"Information of this nature could become rather hazardous in the wrong hands," the masculine voice continued. "Do you not agree?"
Layla's face had drained of color. She took a shuddering breath. "Ryou," she said in a feeble voice, addressing their visitor, "what a pleasant surprise. I dare say we had not expected a guest this late in the evening."
Keiji released Layla and turned to face Ryou, their 'guest.' He was bewildered as to why Layla seemed so frightened. The boy that stood before him could only be in his early teens. Hair as white as snow framed a youthful face and fell to his shoulders. His skin was the color of cream. Ryou Bakura surely possessed the radiance of an angel – Keiji noted how he seemed to glow in the lamplight. Yet, despite this visage, there must have remained one aspect of the boy's appearance that failed to convey innocence, for Keiji felt his muscles tense in anxiety. What was it? Something critical had changed about the boy since last he had seen him.
Keiji continued to study the teen. Ryou was rather tall for his age – at about five foot seven, Keiji was eyelevel with him. Yet, the boy was so slight of build that Keiji was brought to wonder what he could possibly do to harm them? Nothing, he thought firmly. The boy could do nothing. Keiji stared into Ryou's eyes. They were a deep brown color, and for some ridiculous reason, they reminded Keiji of the hot chocolate his sister-in-law prepared for him every time he visited Sakura and his brother at their manor in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri.
Suddenly, the difference dawned upon him. It was in the eyes. No longer wide with wonder for the world around them, they were narrow and focused as if upon some grave and wicked goal. Keiji shuddered. A malicious ambition distorted the boy's features and radiated from his eyes so that he did not, in fact, seem a boy at all, but something much more sinister and evil.
"Late evening, you say?" Ryou inquired, breaking Keiji's line of thought. "I am afraid you are quite mistaken, for the time has most certainly passed midnight and progressed into the early hours of the morning."
"Yes," Layla answered, "I expect it has."
"Where is Camden?" Keiji interjected before his wife was required to speak again. "I would very much like to converse with him."
The smile his question elicited from the boy sent shivers down Keiji's spine. "I am sorry, but this is quite impossible. You see, my father is engaged elsewhere, so he was unable to accompany me on my mission."
"And what mission would that be?" asked Keiji. His senses, heightened by his anxiety, alerted him to the fact that they were not alone. In the darkness beyond the shadows cast by their two kerosene lanterns, cloaked figures surrounded them, blocking off their escape. Every once in a while Keiji would hear the scuff of a boot or the rustle of clothing. The walls seemed to close in around him as they gathered, and a dull panic was kindled within his mind. Keiji felt his heart quicken and reached down to take his wife's hand. Layla gripped him tightly, and as she drew nearer behind him, he could faintly hear her whispering a prayer in Masri, the Egyptian dialect of Arabic which was her native language.
Ryou's gaze flickered down towards their clasped hands and another chilling smile tainted his innocent face. "Do I frighten you, Keiji Matsuzaki?" he inquired with a trace of amusement.
Keiji did not answer immediately. He could feel his fear hardening into anger, and he fought to keep his calm. "Perhaps," he said coldly, "we should continue this conversation elsewhere. I should not want to deprive you of my good hospitality."
"No, that will not be necessary," Ryou answered. Suddenly, without waiting for an invitation, he strolled up to them and turned to study the wall with the ruined hieroglyphics. Keiji watched the boy closely, preparing for any unexpected movements, but Bakura merely brushed his fingers along the chipped stone were the unique symbol had been carved so carefully only minutes before. "The Blue Phoenix was such a devious character," he said reverently. "Her method of scheming, her need for revenge, they were not unlike my own. However, I must say, she possessed more skill with words than ever I did. She could have charmed her way out of hell itself."
Ryou twisted to face them suddenly, and his dark eyes bore into Keiji's. His gaze was so intense that Keiji unconsciously took a step in retreat. "Unfortunately," Bakura continued, "she crossed me one too many times, and I never did get the chance to settle our scores before she sealed her soul in that key." The force with which Bakura attacked the last word caused Keiji to flinch.
"So if you would present me with the opportunity to fulfill this debt, I would be more than content to leave you to your studies and be on my merry way." Ryou extended a hand and watched Keiji expectantly. "Well?" he said after Keiji stared at him for a moment with a blank expression. "Do you have it or do you not?"
"What is all this nonsense?" Keiji asked sharply, narrowing his eyes at the lanky teenager. "You speak of this 'Blue Phoenix' as if you know her, yet here you stand, no more than fifteen years old, when she has been dead for nearly three millennia. Now, how is this possible, pray tell?"
"You poor, foolish mortal," Bakura sneered. "Though you have dedicated your whole life to this desert land, I see you still lack even an elemental understanding the ancient people you seek to know. But that is no matter. I believe I can make my demands simple enough for you to comprehend."
Keiji gazed at Ryou with an air of blatant loathing. "It amazes me how Camden could raise such an arrogant and disrespectful child. I can't..." Keiji was interrupted from his rant as Layla grabbed his arm and jerked him away from Bakura.
"Don't," she whispered harshly, when he tried to break free of her grip. "He's been possessed. That," she said, gesturing towards the demented child, "is not Camden's son."
"But how has this happened?" Keiji whispered back.
"I do not know for certain," Layla answered with a sigh, "but it could have something to do with that strange ring Camden was talking about presenting to his son several years back. I wonder what became of the other."
"What other?" Keiji asked.
"The bracelet he sent to his daughter," Layla said, "Amane."
"I can still hear you chatting, you know," Ryou interrupted, "and I am afraid I do not appreciate being left out of a conversation in which I am the prominent subject of debate."
"I am sorry, Bakura," Layla spoke up. "We do not have what you require. The key is no longer in our possession."
"Then in whose possession does it reside?" Bakura asked, approaching them once more. "Answer me quickly. My patience wanes, as does that of my followers."
Layla glanced at the shadows which gathered around them and then turned to lock eyes with Keiji. A silent communication passed between them before she spoke again. "I'm afraid I cannot disclose this information to you," she replied.
Keiji tensed as Bakura came within arm's length of his wife and glared down at her menacingly. "You can and you will tell me the location of the key. One way or another, you will lead me to the object I desire."
"She will do no such thing," Keiji said, stepping before Layla protectively, "and neither shall I." A moment of silence ensued as the two men eyed each other hatefully.
"Fine," Bakura said quietly, stepping back. "I am now forced to do this the hard way."