Cursed Times - Only Yesterday! Sequel to Wattys 2015 winner!

Chapter 17: Metjen - Cracking Up

Trueth sounded remarkably cheerful. Maybe she had overcome her misguided affections and was happy to be rid of him? That would make their last chat a lot easier, so why was he now feeling annoyed?

Another crash. 'Metjen! Say something. This is driving me mad!'

She was mad. But then, a maze of translucent mirrors that kept flashing and shifting all over the place was enough to make a stone statue want to bury its head in the sand. He had spent two days in this crystalline hell, and schizophrenia had become a distinct reality. When Ptahmes and his minions had installed Metjen in the tower, that son of a mangy rat had explained things with relish. He had elaborated at great length how the mirrors would prepare the candidates for their upcoming experience in the universe.

Not that he would last long. Metjen had not been glad they had finally agreed on something and had delivered an uppercut that had driven the slime bag through the nearest glass pane. Among the shocked expressions of his fellow priests, Ptahmes had fizzled into invisibility, clutching a bloody nose and swearing. Unfortunately, the mirrors reassembled themselves all too quickly. And they seemed to be breeding. Every time Metjen risked a glimpse he found more of them, more of the restless flashing.

They also smelled funny. Sweetish somehow. But maybe that was part of the bordello style of interior design.

Crash, tinkle. Near the entrance, a multitude of splinters rained onto the floor like a cascade of sparks. 'Metjen, are you still here?'

He focussed on the twinkling reflections of an irate Trueth as they disappeared and reappeared in the maze. Metjen sent out his ka and tugged on her sleeve.

'Eek, I got caught! For goodness' sake, Metjen!'

Stop twitching and follow me. I know you can do it, so do it for me.

'I did! Like in that bloody underground hall. Bloody stupid, if you ask me.'

Wonders just never ceased. Here he was, at the end of his existence, and he finally managed to get on with certain people. What a waste.

He tugged once more, and Trueth trailed his ka all through the maze, towards the window. Focussing on the right path through the mirrors made him dizzy, so dizzy.

'You look like shit,' Trueth observed.

Most likely she was correct, she had a knack for that healing business, he had to admit. 'Thanks. For the moment, they are only trying to drive me a bit mad, and then completely zap my brain tomorrow. No big deal. Sorry, if can't keep up the usual facade in the face of all this.'

She lowered herself on a white cushion next to the table laden with food. Why they kept refilling it, he did not know. He had no appetite whatsoever. 

He waved his hand at the grapes. 'Have some, they look appetising.'

'You look as if you haven't slept nor eaten for days,' Trueth said.

'I'll be asleep forever soon, so where's the point?'

'Pleased to hear you can still keep your cool.'

She had no idea. ' I haven't been at all cool recently. Not since that bloody portal. And if it gives you any satisfaction, I'm close to shitting myself. But then, I'm going to see the act a gazillion times in the mirrors, and that's gross.'

Metjen kept scrutinising the greenery. He dreaded addressing the L-thing almost as much as he feared tomorrow, but it had to be done. 'I'm sorry.'

'What about?'

'Everything. I should not have let this happen. I mean, I don't mean this.' He motioned into the room and found his stubbled self repeating the act, many times over. 'I mean you. And me. Us. The fact that there is no us.'