Lightning flashed — chasing shadows into the corners of the garage and illuminating the thing in front of us. Thunder shook the house as wind slapped rain against the garage window. April Logan scooted closer, grabbing my arm. The fear in her blue eyes was evident as she stared at the thing we had dug up earlier that morning.
Matt Bodine looked at me over the top of his black-framed glasses. The thick lenses couldn't hide his excitement.
"Well, Grant?" he said. "Are you going to cut it open?"
I offered Matt the hacksaw. "Do you want to do it?"
"No." Matt shook his head.
I shifted my glance to the thing. It sat in a puddle of water on the concrete floor — rain from the storm that had sprung up right after we unearthed it and soaked us as we ran carrying it from the field to Matt's garage.
It was black, about two feet square and half as tall, with a rusty hinge running along the back. Golden dragon's heads were bolted on each end, their nostrils pierced by gold rings. An ancient padlock guarded whatever secrets were hidden inside. I scanned the words engraved on the lid.
The Stone veils secrets, dark and cold.
The Crystal's Power sleeps within.
Beware the Mystic Force of old,
Before a Magic Spell you spin.
"Let's not open it," April said. "Let's just put it back where we found it."
"Are you nuts?" Matt said. "We have to open it."