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

Chapter 56: Metjen - Haunted Halls Part 1

A little bit earlier... .

Metjen's fury carried him into Iseret's chamber and down the shaft without him remembering whether he had run, flown or gone through a portal. He only stopped when he was about to set foot on the landing that had been his nemesis the first time they had come to this place. Back then he had nearly crashed through one of the sandstone slabs, almost dropped into whatever void lurked below.

It had to be his irresponsible sister of all people who hopscotched her way across the dodgy floor, guided by the scarab ring that linked her to Amasis. Or maybe that dear departed decided to fortify those stones that Rani-Ra chose to step on. No matter what the explanation had been, their little expedition safely found their way across the magical minefield. Judging from the unbelievable sight in front of him, the demons had not been so lucky.

The floor of the landing had disappeared.

A few stone slabs still floated on air at floor level, leading across to the left exit. To reach it, one needed long legs, would have to be willing to jump—and should not be suffering from either vertigo or issues with balance. For there indeed lurked an abyss under those stones, a chasm so deep he could not see its bottom.

Metjen sent some experimental rays into the hole, but they got swiftly sucked into a treacly absence of light. Next, he threw a rock into the pit, which smothered sounds just as effectively as it had swallowed the light. Metjen shifted his attention to the hovering slabs and noticed deep gouges along the edges as if something with sharp claws had scrabbled for purchase. And lost the fight. Metjen wondered how the dark priests had managed to avoid springing the trap all those years ago. Only one explanation  came to mind--they must have been privy to information they should not have had. Some of the demons, joining their summoners a few millennia later, had apparently not been so lucky.

Good! Metjen pumped his fist into the air once. The fate of their foes helped to improve his mood, albeit only slightly.

He shifted his attention to the walls enclosing what would be a landing had it still been covered with slabs. Not only was the left exit still there, but the other two openings continued to offer unwelcome choices. They were as dark as the doorway that presumably still led to the ante-room of the hellish hall harbouring the portal. Checking the aperture in the middle, he remembered Amasis's spooky head. It had floated from the opening, teasing them. The doorway on the right was most likely just a diversion. Or another death trap.

Iseret?

A weak response, a submerged wave of sound washed into his brain. Wherever she was, she was not close.

The opening in the middle flickered briefly.

Now that is interesting, Metjen thought to himself. Have they shifted arrangements down here, since we've last been? Last time it was the left entrance that blinked at us.

He imagined himself in the opening and a split-second later he was there. Behind and above him, at the top of the shaft he had come down, he heard voices. The others were still following, which was good. He had better ensure this place was safe before they arrived. Metjen once more called up the Blue Fire of Khonsu for protection and entered the middle room. The light crept up a notch from Stygian darkness to moonlit night and he could make out rectangular chunks that turned out to be a row of sarcophagi. He had entered a tomb.

Shit, Metjen thought. If Khy's daddy is down here, we're in real trouble. Their little king would want to pay his respect to his father and that would take days. They did not have days.

He released energy into the chamber and night became twilight, the inscriptions on the wall—all of them intact—were emerging in clear-cut clarity. A quick scan of the sarcophagi showed that the old Pharaoh had not found his final resting place down here.