Cursed Times - What Now?

Chapter 17 - Avebury

'It appears the Western world is ready to spit you out? ' That got him a painful punch on his arm, Trueth's mood was obviously improving.

'Do you want me to carry your luggage or not?' He said. 'What on earth have you got in there—apart from kettle and tripod.' He dodged aside to evade the next punch and mind-lugged the suitcase to her car.

Trueth had settled on Avebury, instead of Stonehenge. Not only would it be overrun by thousands of people but it also seemed to be the wrong circle for their purpose. Something about winter instead of summer solstice. He smiled without listening while she delivered her arguments to a level of detail which reminded him of his father.

'This is your quest and your choice. I'll be there with you.' Confident with her driving, even if it was a bit slow, Metjen closed his eyes and dozed off.

***

When they reached Avebury, so many people were blocking the road, they had to leave the car far away from the village and walk.

'Funny types,' Metjen said when another space-Age bard drifted by in fluttery robes, beating a tambourine. The multicoloured musical throng ambled towards a circle of giant stone teeth that had decayed ages ago. The Avebury henge now hosted an impromptu open-air concert where druids were in charge of crowd control. Metjen cared neither for the music nor these hairy types.

He spread his ka into the surroundings, but other than that festive bunch he sensed nothing untoward.

Trueth nudged him 'Do you notice anything, because I don't.'

Metjen shook his head. 'Nope, just tried. If those ancestors of yours are there, these so-called People of the Mist, or whatever Iseret called them, they are in hiding.'

'Shall we join forces then?' she asked.

He grabbed her clammy hand in his. Staying closer to his volatile friend would allow him to better control the physical manifestations of her sun-flow. The did not need an explosion. On the other hand, if people maintained their current alcohol intake, the two of them could claim to be technicians responsible for the special effects.

'Oh no!' Trueth dropped his hand.

'What is it?'

'That guy over there. I met him on those fora. And he's spotted me.'

A scruffy young man with dreadlocks, a wildly patterned shirt and a hairy white overcoat strode purposefully towards Trueth. 'Sister, I am overjoyed to meet you in person. But why did you bring this Indian fellow?'

'Egyptian.' Metjen did not understand how anybody could confuse him with an Indian when he so obviously did not resemble one.

'Whatever. Shove off, brother, I saw the sister first.' With that, he tried to grab hold of Trueth's left hand, jolted as if he had got an electric shock, dropped to the floor—and fell asleep on the spot. Metjen quickly checked, but nobody had noticed anything.

Trueth stared at Metjen. 'What spell is that?'

'None of mine. Before you ask, I have no clue what you did, and we have no time to for investigations.' So much for control, he thought. He mind-dragged the guy to the side and pulled Trueth towards the other end of the circle where people were gathering to greet the sunrise.

The moment they needed was close, pink washed across the eastern skies as veins of light were breaking through the clouds. He grabbed her hand once more, and together they observed the sun appear, the freshly washed landscape exploding into sparkling light.

Now!

He latched on to Trueth's ka, joined it with his and reached out to whoever might be there. He cast an ever-widening net which wound around the stones, flowed across to the cheerful people and covered the one person who was still snoring in the shrubbery.

But nobody responded to their calling. The sun ascended further in the sky, and the moment had gone.

'I felt a prickling at the back of my head?' Trueth had released his hand and turned towards him, with hope in her eyes.

'Sorry to disappoint you. That is the background buzzing you get from these people. It's normal. You would have noticed if we'd found the ones we were searching for, believe me. When I came to your rescue in the desert, this blue light lit up in my mind like a flare and screamed for help.'

'Why should they scream for help?' Trueth asked.

'Lord Ra give me strength...rest assured, they would have stood out.' Metjen shook his head as they were striding towards the car trying to avoid all the litter that marked both the end of the party and their search. He felt annoyed on behalf of Trueth, she deserved better.

When they stopped for lunch, Trueth had a long phone conversation with her mother to explain her imminent return to Egypt. Concern turned into fear, which seemed to surprise Trueth, and Metjen had to intervene with a charm offensive, mentioning his father, the excavations, the Institute of Archaeology and other sensible things.

In the end, a delighted Mrs. Deveril seemed to be of the opinion her daughter would turn into a venerable archaeologist herself and could even provide a job for her sister. She too did not seem to be doing too well as far as employment was concerned.

'You can twist the truth around until it becomes something else entirely,' Trueth said with a grimace.

'I'll never lie,' Metjen responded. 'Fancy a curry?'

On the way to the airport, it rained again, enough to make the desert bloom, but not enough to disrupt traffic. Their flight was punctual; the queues were reasonable, and Metjen ensured they were not frisked.

'Thankfully they have no idea what I am capable of, even without weapons. Better keep it that way. Otherwise, I will not be able to board an aeroplane ever again—or a clever scientist turns me into a missile.'

Trueth smiled, patted his hand and went ahead to get herself water which she had been drinking by the gallon ever since her experience in the desert. Metjen saw her stroll away and turned towards that faint tug he sensed at the corners of his mind.

A wisp of energy was weaving its way from the departure hall beyond the checkpoint. Metjen quickly scanned the crowds – a small gathering of people in variations of grey and all shades of red hair stood next to the pharmacy, regarding him with mournful eyes. Mood issues obviously came as part of the package, but he could not blame them.

Finally, you show yourselves! I've been searching for you, and you never gave me as much as a whisper.

A question tinged with worry floated across, shrouded in sadness. Their talents could not be strong, not like Trueth's. Her ancestors must have been special—just like his had been. From what he could sense in the haze, it had indeed been their joint powers that had called them out of hiding. But they still had not dared to show themselves. Until now.

I'll take good care of your sister, and if she can't cope with us, we will see. But I can't have her torn apart, and this will happen if she hears of you now. Why did you not help her when she needed you most?

All he got was jumbled desolation. He took that to mean they had not been aware of Trueth's existence.

She'll be in good hands. I'll come back, and we speak. I'll be at Avebury at the next equinox. Do you understand me?

A wispy yes fizzled out in the clamour of the departure hall. The group had disappeared.

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Uh oh - should Metjen have told Trueth? What do you think? If you liked this chapter, please let me know, and don't forget to push that little star. Thank you!

This chapter is dedicated to @KerryDorset. The heroince of Kerry's novel 'Save me from Eternity'  might have a slight problem with sunrise, given that she's a vampire. And a copper ....

Copyright of the foto belongs to Philip Capper, from Wellington New Zealand. The image is taken from Wikimedia Commons.