Cursed Times - What Now?

Chapter 17 - Avebury

Trueth jumped up, stormed into the bathroom and changed the aggregate state of the bathtub's content. He heard water gurgling back into the tub which meant she was willing to continue the discussion. Metjen crunched a few biscuits. He was hungry, but did not want to eat anything concocted in this dump, clean fridge or not.

Trueth threw herself onto the sofa. 'How does your family manage to eat all the time and still stay so slim? Apart from your mother maybe, but then she's the chef.'

'Genes! Lots of images in the tombs of my ancestors show it. Except for one, may he rest in peace.'

'Huh? I thought these paintings were idealised?' Trueth's cheeks were flushed, and she appeared to be more animated.

'Not in the Amarna period. I'm talking about Akhenaten—he got it wrong, but at least he worshipped the sun and gave these priests of Amun a run for their money, may their greedy souls howl in the desert.'

Trueth stared at him. 'You're related to the heretic Pharaoh?'

'His clan, yes. I don't need magical talents to guess what you'll ask me next, the answer is DNA, my father pulled some strings. But we digress.' Metjen bit into another biscuit. Trueth bore a glazed expression on her face he found amusing. At least she was no longer preoccupied with offing herself.

'So, if you had been born a few thousand years earlier, you might have been Pharaoh?' She asked eventually.

He raised his hands, palms up. 'Anything is possible. But I'm here, and this is now. Let's talk about your heritage instead.'

Trueth took a deep breath. 'Right. When you mention ancient power you're referring to the people who built places like Stonehenge, right? You mean, they're some sort of ancestors to the witch folk?'

Metjen gave her a thumbs up.

'I thought that was make-believe but I still read up on the subject.' Trueth rose from the sofa and ran her hands over rows of dusty books. 'I even joined Wiccan and Pagan fora but as soon as I even hinted at my talents they either thought I was gaga or they wanted a demonstration. And that I could never do. I even got offers from friendly New Age druids when they saw my photo.'

'Maybe you should have tried a partner agency?' Metjen finished the last of the biscuits and wadded the pack into a ball. 'Lively witch seeks enlightened companion for occasional broom riding?'

He examined her spindly figure retreating to the bathroom once more and wondered how she could contain all that power. But the truth was she could not, not on her own at least—which was exactly the problem. And that thought gave him an idea.

'Let's try something I haven't done yet,' he said when she had returned. ' Let's join our forces and search together. It's solstice tomorrow—best time of the year for experiments. And if it doesn't work, you come with me. Deal?' He held out his hand.

Trueth gaped as if she expected him to grow horns, a forked tail and snort fire the next minute. She lowered her eyes to his hand.

'And if we find them?'

'Then you're a very lucky girl. And you owe me one if we ever work out what the Foreigner and the rest of this spooky combo are supposed to do.'

Trueth shook his hand once and dropped it.

Metjen jumped up from his chair. 'Right, the quicker we go, the better, I'll get my stuff, and we need a car—'

'I'm driving!' Trueth said in a tone that allowed no argument. She packed, and as they opened the door, a letter fell to the floor. Trueth read it and swore. 'It's my landlord - he told me he wanted to sell the house. He's done it now.'