Cursed Times - What Now?

Chapter 13 - Floating

The sprawling temple complex certainly was impressive. Strolling through the shade thrown by a forest of buff-coloured pillars with hieroglyphs crawling all over them, Trueth succumbed to the holiday spirit. She also felt privileged. She was the only tourist having visited an undiscovered tomb. And surely none of them had such a knowledgeable and competent personal guide. For once Metjen was making a real effort and his explanations brought a dead civilisation back to life...Her next thought cut into her relaxed mood. He was a priest of that ancient religion, was spawned by that civilisation which was not quite as extinct as she had thought. Visiting the relics of a grandiose past had to be painful, yet his face, so handsome despite the stubble, showed no feelings... .

'Wakey, wakey,' Metjen said. 'I've asked you twice already, do you fancy a drink?'

'What? Oh, sorry, I was daydreaming. Bit much to take in. All these temples, and Amasis' tomb... .'

Metjen grabbed her arm so hard, it hurt. 'Don't mention that tomb here!' He dragged her towards a small refreshment stand in the shade of a pillar and ordered two cokes.

His manners were a lot less attractive than his body. And his fidgeting annoyed her. 'Can't you sit still for a few seconds?'

As he drank, Metjen's sunglasses slid down his nose again and she got the full measure of his empty glare. 'Seen those guys in the shadows? Don't turn around, woman!'

She had indeed noticed a group of men in the usual attire, loitering and talking among the colonnades. But she had paid them no heed. 'What's up?'

'They've spotted me. I'm the Eyes of Ra, and I travel. Lately rumours have started, and I'm getting noticed. Not good at all.'

Trueth pretended to tie the lace of her trainer and sneaked a peek at their audience. The expression on their faces was not in the least friendly. In fact, they were looking daggers at them.

'Shall we move on?' She asked.

Metjen nodded, they slipped off their chairs and strolled towards the entrance.

'Don't worry,' he said after a few metres. 'They're not following.'

'How can you be sure? You don't have eyes in the back of your head?'

For a moment, he remained quiet. 'I know, believe me.'

'You mean they know who or what you are?' Trueth turned around, but nobody was behind them.

'They suspect something.' Metjen kicked a stone aside. 'They need not worry, really. People with our talents are getting marginalised by modern civilisation. In the not too distant future nobody will be left. And I fear at least in this country we've got uncomfortably close to such a scenario ever since this...relic gave us such a start.'

'Welcome to my world. I've been there a long time, and it sucks.'

In what could pass for companionable silence, they sat on a stone wall behind the ruined pylons.

'What do you expect from doing this?' Trueth asked. 'Apart from trouble with your whacky boss, once she hears what you've done? And too many pissed-off gods if I understand you right?'

'You do. In the last few weeks, I've gone against everything that ever counted in my life.'

'But why? And how do I fit into the picture,' she added as an afterthought.

Metjen turned towards her and removed his sunglasses. His eyes were glowing from within, and while it was good to see that his powers were returning, Trueth would have preferred not to witness such progress from close by.