"What would need magic to be contained?" Sam asked. Nina stood in deep thought, her eyes fixed on the object. Many accounts of cursed boxes raced through her mind, but she dared not reveal such things here and now. She realized that chests inscribed with incantations or symbols usually had valid reasons to be so.
"I'm not sure, Sam. Runic magic was practiced in the second century by Germanic tribes. I wouldn't take it lightly, Mr. Purdue," she reported, but she could see he was not pleased with her discouraging theory. Nina knew Dave all too well. He was not going to accept her advice on leaving the container in its present state, that she knew, but she had to admit that her own curiosity was busy getting the better of her. He looked at her with eyes stiff in their sockets and then he lifted the thing for them to hear that something was thumping inside when he turned it.
"Do you hear that? I want to know what that is," he smiled.
"Yes, Dave, I am well aware of your eagerness to pry your way into it," she said in her most civilized tone of impatience. "Give me a while to figure out what to do with a stone lock and we'll see what's inside."
"You have an hour," he decided, "and after that, I'm opening this lock the old fashioned way."
"Sledgehammer?" Sam asked with a wry smile.
"Damn straight," Purdue said. He tapped his watch at Nina and winked at Sam. Liam and Darwin, though, did not share the amusement.
After setting the chest in one of the vacant rooms sublevel, Sam waited with Purdue. Nina came back a while later after going to her cabin to collect the medieval book the Nazi corpses were so kind as to bestow on them. It had so far been invaluable to them in locating clues and deciphering codes. With a bit of searching she knew there had to be something written in there pertaining to the object now before her. Purdue hovered like a vulture, pacing and suggesting to the point of annoyance.
"For fuck's sake, Dave, can you give me some room here?" Nina snapped after a half an hour of his forceful prying, which amounted to nothing but noise in her ears.
"I am giving you room. I am giving you time to do it your way, aren't I?" he said casually. Sam knew her body language. Now she was pulling back her shoulders constantly, a clear sign of irritation he knew all too well. It was a mannerism she had when she was vexed and under stress, and it was best not to say anything when she began to flex her shoulders. It reminded him of a bird flapping its wings in a defensive gesture when threatened.
"Mr. Purdue, I was wondering about the permanent skeleton staff you have here," Sam said suddenly, distracting Purdue from Nina with a bit of a casual confrontation. He was good at those, as any award-winning journalist would be.
"What about it?" Dave asked.
"I just notice that you never have a full crew working. And oil drilling is a substantial practice, not something you can run with just a few men," Sam remarked.
"What I produce on my oil rig and how much of it turns out is categorically none of your business, Mr. Cleave, as is my crew count," Purdue retorted, with a superior sneer at the blatant accusation of mismanagement on his platform.
Nina was pleased that the two men were engaged in conversation, no matter what the nature, because it kept Purdue off her back and gave her time to page through the more indecipherable pages of the handwritten book. As they bantered behind her she focused sharply on the information supplied by various scribes entered in several languages. Finally she came to a paragraph written upside down from the others, as if it was added in haste. In Latin it reported on the granite lock of the curse box and what was needed to undo its hold.
"It's a Roman system," she declared and smiled at the two men who stopped abruptly in midsentence. Purdue's face lit up. He never realized that Sam had been deliberately engaging him to help Nina find the solution.
Nina applied what she had learned from the book to unlock the chest. As she was about to lift the cracked lid that was slightly ajar under her hand, Purdue lurched over the table as if he would see whatever was inside first. She lifted the lid and found inside an elongated object wrapped in leather. From it emanated a putrid whiff that took them aback. The three of them stared in fascination, but none of them moved. Again, there was a feeling of foreboding, a sensation of warning as if they were intruding on something much too potent. Nina, especially, having opened it, felt the distinct unpleasantness of a cornered cat burglar about to be discovered. Vulnerable, uninvited and disrespectful she felt.
Purdue animated, reached into the chest to claim its prize. Sam stepped back slightly, wary of the consequences, yet he kept filming.
"This is the chest recovered from the floor of the North Sea recently, discovered by myself, Dave Purdue, with the assistance of Dr. Nina Gould and esteemed investigative journalist Sam Cleave," Purdue announced to the camera, as he held the object in his hands. "We are now about to uncover the contents of the chest."
He unwrapped the leather covering, its texture smooth and flaccid in his hands. Uncovered, they found the item to be a dagger of sorts, missing the narrowing frontal blade. Half of it was enveloped in pale yellow metal and the other part made of steel and silver, bound together in a powerful hilt. Purdue's face froze in astonishment as he looked at Nina. In turn she was speechless and Sam knew that they had stumbled on the very thing that the pursuit of had almost cost them their lives.
"It can't be," she finally managed.
"Why not? How do you know this is not the genuine article?" Purdue started to smile, at first at a loss for words, but now thoroughly elated at his find. Between them they could feel the relic's power radiate through them, but it was not an altogether positive feeling. Something about it challenged their morality and loyalty, something irrepressible that toyed with their sensibilities.
"Well, is it or is it not the Holy Lance?" Sam pressed, intent on getting it all on film.
Purdue's eyes combed the length of the artifact, checking for all the trademarks just to make sure. Of course, Nina would have to study it to confirm its authenticity, but as far as notable features went, this was the genuine article he held in his hands. Purdue felt his heart racing, every beat an explosive throb of welling power. He imagined what he could attain now. Was there any truth in the legend that whoever owned the Spear of Destiny wielded untold, immeasurable power? He could not deny that the overwhelming thrall of the object played with his soul in ways he feared few men could resist.
"Dr. Gould, would you do us the honor of examining the artifact?" Purdue asked, as he gently wrapped it again.
"I would be honored," Nina replied, while inside her she screamed with glee at the find.
Purdue placed the knife back in the ominous chest and Sam stopped filming. As he closed the viewfinder of his camera, the well-behaved and professional Purdue uttered a victorious cry.
In the control room the light dimmed.
From the immediate heavens above Deep Sea One the clouds grew in size, darkening as the wind began to stir up the surface of the ocean.
"It's happening," Darwin whispered to himself. Alarmed, he raised his voice, "Liam! It's happening!"
Liam came in to see the storm birthed right in front of them. It was not as discernible to the other staff on the oil rig, but because they had previously discussed the very phenomenon, the two men observed such things more keenly.
"My God, it's uncanny," Liam marveled while a little ball of fear developed in his core. He did not know why, but the whole business had an unnatural feel to it and being out here on a godforsaken oil drill that could be swallowed up in a moment, was not reassuring at all. The gales turned angry and swerved over the workmen who moved quickly to secure everything before the storm escalated. As soon as they completed their tasks they made for the cover of the buildings.