Pandora's Box

Chapter 7: Part I

A canopy of stiff branches crossed over Pandora's head like a tunnel of sabers at a formal military wedding. The air no longer carried the crisp scent of the country. Instead, there was only a trace of stale nothingness.

The princess carried a bunched handful of her dress at her hip, eyeing the trees who stared back as though judging her character. They groaned from time to time whenever a more robust gust of wind nudged a member of the petrified guard out of place. The solemn melody of the mysterious music filled the air. Pandora finally snapped.

"Where are you!"

The scream burst free, powered by the aching rage deep within the girl's mourning heart. The sound distorted the air in a rippling dome, fleeing Pandora's fury like the wake of a stone tossed into a still pond.

The ground shook, and the grinding sound of sliding stone smothered the world. A massive geyser of dust and silt and papery leaves exploded from the earth, firing skyward like a plume of dragon's breath. When it settled, Pandora's lips parted and a tiny gasp escaped.

A pyramid of rough hewn stone now dominated the copse of petrified trees, it's peak easily standing thrice as high. Pandora regarded the structure with a quizzical glance. Its rocky sides gave off a similar aura to the one she had felt at the copse's edge but much more potent. Even thirty feet away Pandora felt a frigid pulse emanating from the pyramid.

"By gods, what is that?" Malachai emerged from a thicket of tangled bramble. A cloak of deep scarlet, concealed his formal officer's garb and draped past the knee. His face shared Pandora's own awed expression, but the princess noted wolfish tinges at the edges.

"I don't know. But the song is coming from inside," Pandora said nearly whispering.

Malachai panned around, listening against the petrified forest's empty aria of silence. "What song?"

Pandora tilted her head back and closed her eyes as though she were basking in the sun and not standing in a dead wood in front of pyramid that should not exist. The music was a comfort now, a gentle caress against the pain she'd fled. "It's everywhere. It's calling to me."

A cool, strong hand slipped into Pandora's grasp. Malachai began a confident stride toward the black pyramid, undaunted. "Then we shall had heed its call." Malachai let his dark eyes lock onto the princess's crystal orbs. "Together."

The princess nodded, clutched up her sweeping black frock and made for the pyramid's only visible entrance. The forest floor gave way to a soft carpet of golden sand. Just beyond the entrance, a passage wide enough for two emptied into hidden shadows. The stone walls were smooth like glass, and when Pandora touched the shimmering obsidian a brisk shudder flew up her arm. She smiled. Bracers of torches filled with a luminous emerald flame marked the passage.

Now the music drew her like a siren's song, gently guiding Pandora and her escort deeper inside. A feeling of longing seeped in, gently lapping at the corners of her senses. There was something familiar about this place, Pandora thought. Something right.

"Look's like a chamber ahead, princess," Malachai said, gesturing with his free hand. "Maybe we'll find your music there."

Pandora didn't respond. There lingered no doubt in her mind that the source of the haunting, beautiful melody lie ahead. She was absolutely certain of it. Her feet rhythmically alternated forward. Ten paces remained until the passage's end. Five. Two. An arch of sharp-angled sigils carved into the wall traced from the floor, up over the ceiling, and the back down.

A final gateway.

"Would you look at that..." Malachai said, peering into the chamber.

The pyramid's central chamber was fifty feet across and had walls that appeared meticulously hewn from the same reflective obsidian as the passage. With one glaring difference.

Pandora released Malachai's cool hand and brushed the wall. Behind the translucent black stone, waves and flows of verdant energy surged. Micro bursts of light flashed behind the barrier when the magical currents came in contact with the strange black stone. And something else.

Faces...

Twisting, contorted faces wracked in agony floated behind the glassy black surface, carried on currents of emerald.

"You don't think they're real, do you?" Pandora asked quietly, staring at a face that looked like it could've belonged to someone her age.

Malachai shrugged his shoulders.

A pedestal of slate gray stone rose silently from the center of the chamber's floor. Horrific images of ritual sacrifice carved in bas relief covered its sides. A cube of petrified wood sat in the middle. The air surrounding the pedestal hummed with energy, and Pandora felt the tickling vibrations in her temples.

She left Malachai at the mouth of the passageway, then crossed over the cool stone floor. The train of her frock dredged a wake in a layer of fine silt. The melody played peacefully in her ears, comforting like a favorite tune. There was a gentle, metallic sound, and then a seam appeared around the box's waistline. The upper portion tilted on an invisible hinge. Indigo light poured free.

"Take it, Pandora," Malachai said from over Pandora's shoulder. She hadn't even heard the junior officer appear by her side. His sharp-angled features were quickly bathed in the box's purplish spill. The shadow cast by the box's light stretched all the back to the passage. "You were meant to find it."

Pandora stirred. "What?"

"Don't you see? This box, this temple, it was all meant for you to find. You were the only person who could even hear the music." Malachai swept his hand over the indigo glow, as though it were a candle's flame. "Look around you! The air is practically burning with raw magical current. Even I can feel its power. Imagine what someone could do with such a thing! Imagine what they could create. Or destroy—"

"Or bring back." A distant, longing note filled Pandora's words. She stared bleary eyed at the box.

The box's lid fell fully open as though it had read the princess's mind. A golden ballerina, no more than three inches tall began to slowly pirouette. Tiny stars etched over the figurine made it look as though the miniature's leotard glowed with starlight. The soft notes chimed, filling the chamber's dead spaces. The melody took on more form, until finally the notes morphed into words.

"My father used to sing this to me when I couldn't sleep." Pandora's chest strained and she felt as though her heart demanded a breath of fresh air.

"Then take it. Perhaps it is the answer to your prayers," Malachai replied.

Pandora's were flat on the pedestal's surface on either side of the music box. She slowly brought them together.

"Don't!" Donovan shouted from the passage.

Too late.