Free Promise: Caulborn #2 by Nicholas Olivo Page B

must’ve died in the late tenth century, just as King Olav Tryggvason converted to Christianity and ordered the cessation of Viking raids.
    “An added curiosity was the strange treasure chest found within their burial chamber. Scientists initially thought it was made of petrified wood, but now believe the chest is made of some sort of ceramic whose creation process has been lost to time.” My eyes flicked down to the chest. “Note the stylized crucifix engraved on the chest; this reinforces the theory that these Vikings converted to Christianity, and the chest may contain early religious documents. The chest has no apparent lock or hinge and has resisted all forms of attempt to open it. In 1988, scientists tried to drill through the chest to gain a sample of the air inside to no avail. Some of the broken drill bits that were used are on display in a case just in front of the chest.” I took a look at the drill bits; they were as blunt as unsharpened pencils.
    The narrator went into drama mode again. “What treasures might this chest contain? Riches? Jewels? Some lost scroll or tome of ancient knowledge? Perhaps an early copy of the Bible? Only the Vikings know.” I clicked off the audio.
    The chest and the sarcophaguses were roped off, and a security guard stood nearby, ensuring that no one got too close. I knelt down in front of the ropes to get a closer look at the chest. Despite the dimmed lights of the room, I could clearly make out a stylized cross carved on the chest’s surface.
    An impatient part of me wanted to pop the chest open right then and make a break for it. Instead, I did a circuit of the room, pretending to inspect the other parts of the exhibit while I was actually noting where the security cameras were placed. Satisfied, I left the exhibit, went down to the food court, and crushed a bacon cheeseburger and some fries. As I licked ketchup from my fingers, a voice came over the museum’s intercom.
    “Attention, visitors,” it said, “the Museum of Science will be closing in thirty minutes. Thanks for joining us today, and please come back soon.” I threw away my trash, found an office that was being used as a storage room, and settled down among a handful of disassembled exhibits on Pluto, which had been removed from the planetarium once it lost its planet status. I figured this was a pretty safe place to wait for a bit.
    About half an hour later, I snuck out from my hiding spot and crept back to the exhibit. I didn’t encounter any roaming guards or members of the cleaning crew and grinned when I got back to the main exhibit hall. The place was completely empty. I telekinetically latched onto the cables that powered the security cameras and tugged. The red lights above the lenses winked out. Now I had to be fast. It was only a matter of time before someone came down to investigate. I shot forward and Opened the chest.
    A wave of stale air hissed past me, and my nose wrinkled. I reached in and my fingers brushed against a bundle of cloth. I pulled out an oilskin-wrapped bundle that weighed about three pounds. As I moved to unwrap it, a metal manacle on a chain shot out from inside the chest and clamped down on my wrist. Tears of pain came to my eyes as the skin beneath the manacle suddenly burned.
    I yelped in surprise as the chain jerked me forward. I slammed into the chest as a row of serrated blades popped up from the chest’s rim with a shik . The chest looked like a mouth now, with the manacle serving as some kind of horrible creature’s tongue. The manacle dragged me forward, and time seemed to slow down. I could see very clearly that the lid would chomp down and bite my hand off. I twisted my wrist, and the lid bit down on the manacle with a clang. The manacle started to collapse under the lid’s pressure, so I Opened the chest again and hurled myself back, stretching the chain out about five feet. I had almost regained my footing when the chain pulled me forward again, the chest’s lid