Michael Belmont and the Tomb of Anubis (The Adventures of Michael Belmont) Read Free Page A

slippers and headed down the hall in the direction from which he thought the sound was coming.
    His parents were staying in the old Lords and Ladies Chamber which was a few dozen feet down the hall.   He wondered if they might have heard the music too.
    It didn't get any louder though, so he headed back down in the other direction toward his sister's room.   The sound still wasn't getting any louder, but he passed Abigail's room and noticed a dark corridor from which he thought the music might be coming.
    In a large stone building such as this, where echoes abounded, the origins of sounds could be hard to pinpoint.
    Michael had always considered himself fairly brave, but he wasn't about to go traipsing down a dark corridor in a strange castle in the middle of the night without a flashlight.
    He quickly returned to his room to retrieve one, and then stopped by Abigail's room, poking his head in and shining the light on her bed.   She was curled up in a ball under the covers, her long blonde ponytail strung over her pillow.
    In a way, he hoped that she would be awake, and perhaps had even heard the music herself.   He thought about waking her, but decided it would be a little pathetic to wake up his baby sister because of his own fear.
    As he stood there, he noticed that the music of the pipes was beginning to fade away.   He kept telling himself that the sound must be Liam playing a prank, although deep inside he didn't really believe it.   Still, it was a more comforting explanation than any alternatives he could think of.
    Not wanting to lose his chance to discover the source of the music, he returned to the corridor and shined his flashlight down into the darkness.   It had brand new batteries and the beam was bright, but he couldn't see the end of the hall.
    He stood still and attentive for a while.   He was confident that the sound was coming from this direction, because it seemed just a little louder as he stayed there listening to it.
    Taking a deep breath, Michael decided to set off down the corridor and find the source of the piping.   He walked as stealthily as he could, often shining his light back behind him to take a look and ensure nobody was sneaking up on him.
    He passed many doors, most of which were locked, some leading to empty rooms, but still the music appeared to be coming from down the corridor.
    A wide variety of artifacts and paintings were dispersed along the walls, and there were a few suits of armor and some antique chairs, and other small pieces of furniture.   Almost everything was covered with cobwebs and looked as though no one had paid it any attention in years.
    Old books littered the hallway, placed here and there on shelves or furniture.   Normally, Michael, who had a great love for books, would have stopped to examine them, but he found himself steadily walking, intent on discovering the source of the music.
    As he continued, he noticed that many of the paintings on the walls depicted odd and disturbing scenes.   Some of them had strange creatures that Michael had never seen before.
    Although he passed most of these without paying them much attention, he came to a portrait that caught his interest and without even realizing what he was doing; he had stopped to examine it.
    The man in this portrait was a very dark and authoritative looking fellow, with thick eyebrows and deep-set eyes.   He had a very bestial look about him, and an unpleasant demeanor.   He reminded Michael of a wolf that had gone without a proper meal for a few too many days.   The man was dressed in clothes from several hundred years ago, although Michael didn't know quite enough about history to be any more specific than that.   In his hands he held a wooden staff with a black jackal's head on the end of it, it's lip curled up in a growl.
    "It looks like that Egyptian jackal-god," Michael quietly muttered.   He couldn't remember the god's name, although it was on the tip of his tongue.   He was glad his