Kisah Masyitah Rukyah

Bab 23: Sarang/Nest, Bahagian 3

Inside the belly of the beast. I'm not sure if VAT 69 knows where we are right now, but Haji Yusoff's surely pointed them in the right direction. In that case, our troubles are far from over. We walk through the entrance of the complex's mini-museum. My friends are busy being riveted by the framed antiques hanging on this long hallway's walls. If it weren't for the circumstances, perhaps I would join in.

"Haiyaa, this mengkuang looks exactly like that carpet you have in your room la Kiah..."

"Nevermind that, this keris looks amazing. Did you know that the blade always has an uneven amount of curves?"

"Apparently some of them are used as talismans because they have powers imbued within them," notes Casey to Harmony and Kiah. I had to destroy one before for that exact reason. "Judging from the jasmine on the hilt, this one was for a wedding."

Ramya whistles. "Look at this Arabic calligraphy. Xiao, you should learn some of this mate. Even if I still can't read it for shit, least it'd look prettier than Mandarin. Er, no offense."

I shine my flashlight on a beautiful Arab sword about three feet in length. Its blade is curved and made out of silver, with various engravings signifying phases in the Prophet Muhammad's life. If I were to estimate, it could be from the 18th century. A proper museum piece this one. I wouldn't be against taking it as a souvenir.

I stomp my curved prosthetic twice on the ground. Their heads, as well as their attention, snap towards me.

"Now's not the time for sightseeing. Focus up."

A glass double door separates the entrance from the interior of the mini-museum, aptly named 'Muzium Budaya Melayu-Islam' or 'Museum of Malay-Islamic Culture'. From what the floorplans have suggested, we'll have to go through here to get to the auditorium. I twist the unlocked knob open.

This main area contains much bigger and more beautiful pieces of art and culture than the entrance hallway. I take a left through the clay pottery section and bank a right across the colourful and intricate fabrics, some of them even looking similar to what Kiah had worn on some nights. From there, I lead straight ahead through the traditional instruments. Memories of my school's musical programs flash through my mind. My right hand has become very tough and durable from all those hours of kompang practice, hitting the stretched cowhide and singing in Arabic with my schoolmates.

I hear a loud bang echoing through the silent halls. It doesn't sound all that different from what the percussions here would make.

"I think that's the Commandos using their battering ram. Double time now."

We escalate from a saunter into a laboured jog. After a minute or two of navigating the maze of corridors, I shine my flashlight on the floorplan again which I've unfolded out of my pocket. I hum along as I aim the light over every part of the paper.

"You figured it out yet?" asks Kiah. All of my ahli sihir friends are getting jumpy from the prospect of getting into another firefight with the Commandos, as well as being so close to rescuing Jaxon. Ramya and Xiao have a few battles under their belts already, as have I while we were working as a trio for some time, but life-and-death situations will always get on your nerves. Especially when you still have so much to live for and to accomplish like these young ones are. 

Relatively, of course. I'm 27 still.

"I've got it. If we just follow the signs on here, they should start pointing to the auditorium. Be my eye for me."

I place myself on the rear of our pack after having led them for most of today and follow in their footsteps. Harmony beckons to what I assume is the sign covered by a sheet of darkness.