Free The Sacred Bones by Michael Byrnes

pair, pulled them over their hands and donned sterile masks and caps.
    Charlotte passed Donovan an X-Acto knife from the workstation's tool drawer. "Would you like to do the honors?"
    Drawing a deep breath, the Vatican librarian nodded, took the knife, and began slicing through the plastic shroud. When he finally drew the wrap apart, what he saw made his eyes light up in wonderment.

    12.
    Father Patrick Donovan devoured what lay before him. Only weeks ago, he'd acquired an astounding manuscript whose ancient parchment pages chronicled the origin of this magnificent relic, complete with detailed sketches and maps to locate its secret resting place. He had tried to imagine what the box would look like in person, but nothing could have prepared him for this. Astonishing .
    Giovanni Bersei was circling round the box, squinting. "This is a burial casket-- an ossuary." His voice was muffled by his mask.
    Goosebumps ran up Charlotte's arms.
    "I hope Santa Claus isn't inside," Bersei said in a barely audible mumble.
    "What?" Charlotte looked at him, puzzled.
    "Nothing," he said.
    Bathed in bright halogen light, the ossuary's ornate features seemed to come to life. On the front and rear faces, rosettes and hatch patterns had been painstakingly etched, not by cutting into the surface, but through chipping the soft stone into relief. The lid was arched and beveled along its edges. The short sides were flat, one blank, the other bearing a simple relief of a dolphin wrapped around a trident.
    Hennesey was momentarily transfixed by the image. "Father Donovan-- what does this symbol mean?"
    Still trying to calm himself, Donovan studied it briefly then shook his head. "Not sure." It wasn't a complete lie. But-- vitally-- the symbol identically matched the manuscript's meticulous description of the box.
    Dr. Bersei's head was pressed close. "It's beautiful."
    "Certainly is," Donovan agreed. The ossuary's craftsmanship was impressive, far surpassing any other relic he'd examined from the Holy Land. Using the stylus to shape the soft limestone, the carver's technique had been masterly. There were no cracks or imperfections. The decorative work easily rivaled that of master Roman sculptors-- a feature that alone made the relic extraordinary.
    Bersei ran a gloved finger over the thin gap along the lid's edge. "There's a seal here." He pressed it cautiously. "Most likely wax."
    "Yes. I see that," Donovan confirmed.
    "It's a good indication that what's inside has been well preserved," Bersei added.
    "I'd like to open this now," Donovan said. "Then we'll discuss details of the analysis you will perform."
    Hennesey and Bersei looked at each other, knowing that their seemingly diverse disciplines had indeed found common ground. Opening a sealed burial box implied one thing.
    A corpse.

    * * *
    Each peering through Orascoptic Telescopes-- protective goggles equipped with flip-down miniature telescopes-- Charlotte and Bersei worked the lid's edges with their X-Acto knives, loosening the tight seal of wax that, despite its age, maintained a tight bond with the ossuary.
    "Can't you just melt the wax?" Donovan inquired.
    Bersei shook his head. "You can't apply heat to the stone. It could crack or discolor. Plus the wax would drip, making a mess inside."
    Minutes passed and the only sound other than the hum of the ventilation system was of the two blades carefully scratching against the ossuary's seal.
    The priest watched the scientists from a discrete distance. His thoughts swung violently between the astounding secrets that the manuscript promised were contained within this ossuary and the firefight in Jerusalem that had claimed so many lives. Not until he could verify the contents with his own eyes would he feel any relief.
    Bersei took a deep breath as he made the final cuts. "Almost there." The Italian was practically lying across the table finishing off the rear seam.
    Charlotte completed the front side and removed her goggles. Seconds later, Giovanni