Chapter 12

AN: Thanks you to everyone who sent me a review during my time away from this story. I'm not planning on taking so long to update again.

Chapter 12

They had risen before the sun, meeting a boat to take them to Inisheer, and the ancient O'Brien's castle. Insheer was the smallest of the Aran Islands, being the closest to the shore, that had been the one Faye had managed to spot on the cliffs. Dún Formna, the even older ruins of a fort, had been the logical starting place for the group. The fort dated back to a time when the gods and goddesses would have still been worshipped, before Christianity spread through the land.

They had all ridden in silence, first in the car and then on the boat. No one seemed to want to be the first to break the tense quiet. Faye had stared out over the water the entire boat ride, not wanting to make eye contact or be forced into conversation with anyone, including Mutt. It had worked until she had chosen to explore the ruins of O'Brien's Castle.

While searching one of the corners she heard footsteps behind her and turned quickly to see who had followed. Indy approached her slowly, seeming to be searching for the right words. She looked away after a moment, trying to collect herself before facing him.

"None of us should wander off alone," he began, causing her to look back at him as his voice trailed off.

Faye nodded, but didn't answer him as she continued to run her hand along the wall. It seemed to be the only wall not crumpling completely under the strain of time. Such walls were generally only seen towards the interior of older buildings that connected to hallways. Yet this particular wall appeared to connect to only the outside. She hoped that a secret doorway and passageway would only add additional support to the structure, and there would be something behind the wall.

"The O'Brien's would have known when they built this castle on the fort that surely someone would try to take control someday," she said as he stood next to her. "If the harp was left on this island the O'Brien's would have wanted it hidden and safe. They certainly wouldn't have made it easy for their enemies to find."

She looked back at him for a moment, and he gave a slight nod of approval, a small smirk playing at his lips. Letting her hand fall away from the wall, she raised an eyebrow at him, wondering at the thoughts clearly going through his mind.

"What?" she asked as he took a step towards her, examining the wall.

"I just remember a time when I was the one telling you my theories on history," he said, laughing a bit.

"Well, you must have rubbed off on me more then you thought, Dr. Jones," she replied with a wink, glad to feel the tension ease a bit.

They fell into a more comfortable silence then, each searching a different part of the wall for any clue of a secret door. Reaching the fireplace, she paused for a moment as her fingers ran over a stone that didn't have the same texture as the others. She pushed on it a little, feeling it give under the slight weight. Pushing a little harder, she heard the sound of stone moving within the fireplace.

"Good job, kiddo," Indy said, stepping up next to her.

The back wall of the fireplace had moved aside to reveal a stair well. It was nearly pitch black, but the light coming through the roof lit the sidewalls. The paintings there were faded, but stepping close Faye gasped at what she saw. They depicted a great army, and standing above them on a hill was a figure towering above the others. In his hand was the instrument that identified him immediately.

"Stay here," Indy told her gently, leaving her side and moving outside again.

Moving into the passage and stepping down the first step, she took a closer look at the drawings. They were typical of medieval art, but instead of the usual religious icons of the Christian Church, they showed the story of one of the island's Pagan gods. She felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach. After months of research and digging she might finally be able to close this chapter of her life.

A moment later Indy returned followed by Marion and Mutt. He lit a torch before stepping into the passage, and they all examined the painting for a moment before starting down the stairs. Indy led the way, Marion just a few steps behind him. Faye found herself falling into step with Mutt. Meeting his eyes for a moment, he gave her a small smile.

They reached the bottom of the steps relatively quickly, Faye relieved to find none of the traps and dangers Indy mentioned in his stories. She had expected to be dodging arrows and having the floor collapse. Yet, she also knew that the medieval architects responsible for the structure were not well known for traps and defensive devises.

Moving into the room at the bottom of the stairs they all froze at the sight that greeted them. There was a podium built against the far wall and on it sat a perfect, golden harp. It looked as if the dust of hundreds of years had settled everywhere except on it's perfect frame and strings.

"Is that…" Mutt began, his voice trailing off.

"Yes," Faye told him, stepping foreword. "It has to be. I can't believe it's here."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Indy hand the torch to Mutt, stepping up to the harp. She watched him check the pedestal it had been placed on for any traps, before he lifted it from its resting place. She released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding as he stepped back, turning towards her with the harp.

"Dr. Jones, it looks like you've beat me in figuring out the little riddle," Faye heard Maxwell's voice break through the silence from behind them.

Indy handed her the harp, drawing his gun and turning. Faye turned too, along with Mutt and Marion, and faced Maxwell and the dozen Soviets who were blocking the doorway. They were completely trapped. The only way out was the way they entered and they would never make it through alive.

"I would suggest dropping the gun, Dr. Jones," Maxwell said with a slight smile. "Perhaps we might even be able to work out some sort of a deal."

"Obviously you want the harp," Indy said, lowering the gun and placing it on the ground.

"How right you are, Dr. Jones," Maxwell said with a slight smirk. "Now, my dear Faye, would you kindly bring me the harp?"

Faye looked to Indy for a moment and he gave her a slight nod before turning his attention elsewhere. He was contemplating their escape, looking for a way to draw their captors away from the doorway. Faye stepped foreword, away from the group, holding the harp out to Maxwell. He took it with a slight smirk, and Faye moved backwards to her spot, not wanting to risk turning her back to him.

"Outside," Maxwell ordered, motioning with the gun.

A few of the Soviets circled around them, the rest moving up through the stairwell. Faye fell into step between Marion and Mutt, Indy leading the way. She wondered how long he would continue to tolerate them, why he was playing such a game.

As they reached the outside Faye shuttered as she saw the look on Maxwell's face as he stared at the harp. If the legends were true the power the harp would have over others would make them nearly inconceivable. Instead of Maxwell working for the small group of Soviets, they would become a small army completely under his control. His fingers stroked the strings without plucking or making noise and Faye felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Maxwell," she began before she could stop herself, "if that truly is the Harp of Dagda I think it would be wise to do some testing to see how it affects the minds of others. Don't you?"

"Faye's right, Blakeshire," Indy agreed. "There no telling what that will do."

"It's never too soon to find out," he said with a smirk. "I know the perfect bait for my friends here."

Faye felt her blood run cold as Maxwell's finger once again came into contact with the strings. A clear tone rang through the quiet ruins, and the Soviets around Maxwell seemed to straighten and turn their complete attention to him.

"Maxwell, please," Faye called softly. "Don't do this. You don't know what this might do!"

He ignored her plea, however striking another note and then another. The tones seemed to have no affected on her or the others, but every Soviet seemed to have their full attention on Maxwell and the harp. A moment later one finally moved, stepping not towards them but towards Maxwell. After another moment a few followed suit, and soon all of the Soviets we slowly moving towards the harp and its current wielder.

"Maxwell, stop!" Faye cried, taking a step forward, but she felt Mutt take hold of her arm to stop her. She was sure she knew what was to follow. The harp was having the opposite affect on the Soviets, as its true master was not playing it. She hated Maxwell for all he had done to her, but she didn't want to see him harmed.

Sensing trouble Maxwell began to play faster, as if trying to find a way to focus their attention back on to the group. The click of a pistol being readied to fire drew Maxwell's attention and he spun around suddenly. The harp, which was still in his hands crashed against the gun, moving it away from him as it fired suddenly.

Faye felt herself stumble backwards suddenly, a sharp, blinding pain spreading across her right shoulder. Before she could right herself she felt her back hit the wall behind her, followed by the base of her skull. The last thing she remembered as the darkness closed around her was Mutt reaching out towards her.