Cursed Times - What Now?

Chapter 21 - The Wall

Can you hear anything? Metjen thought.

Major Tom to ground control—affirmative, Trueth responded.

Metjen shook himself and winced. From Verdi to David Bowie in a few seconds flat—that was Trueth for you. They had no time for his musings. And moving his head had worsened the pain.

There are voices, and somebody is hammering at something, Ranofer projected.

Metjen could hear it too. Whoever was down there was obviously convinced nobody would notice them and come to investigate.

Dear brother, can't you send one of your veils or, better even, a convenient death ray? I'm nervous enough as it is. I don't need this rubbish. Rani-Ra projected.

Me neither, Metjen projected. And my headache has started, so we better get cracking. Trueth is the healer—you go, and give them a spiritual sleep potion or whatever takes your fancy,

Eh—not sure how to do that, Trueth responded.

Why am I not surprised. You must do something, in the name of the Lord Ra. I can't!

He noticed Trueth was mumbling to herself she rummaged in her brain for a solution. She needed to hurry up, she was not usually so slow—now he had lost them, so he concentrated, reached out, found nothing, mind-slammed a rock into the nearest ruin and finally found them again.

They had moved into the courtyard and waited left and right of the corridor entrance. At the back end of the tunnel lights could be seen, and through Trueth's eyes Metjen perceived two men moving about. The weaving and wobbling was making him queasy, and his head was getting worse.

Trueth must have come to a decision. She gestured at the twins who touched her shoulders. Metjen sensed the heat as it rose inside Trueth, like magma boiling up the chamber of a volcano. With it came a calming flow of coolness, steadily turning, the heat and the cold merging, melting into a fire of ice, healing, soothing... .

He yawned. His headache felt better.

Metjen blinked in surprise. He had not realised how much Trueth's skills had developed. His mentor had worked his magic—in the name of Sakhmet, he had done it again.

Concentration came easier now that his head bothered him less. He found the others in the courtyard—no, they had moved. They were slowly moving towards the light at the end of the corridor.

Hello? Ah, there you are again. It isn't very reassuring when you keep winking in and out like that, Ranofer thought.

Sorry. Whatever Trueth did, it affected me too. What happened?

I remembered Avebury, Trueth thought. So I shot my healing at them, and they just flopped on the floor one after the other. Look at that!

He did and beheld the two looters with beatific smiles on their faces, snoring gently on the ground in front of the wall. Trueth jerked her head around.

You should take better care of your passengers. I'm going all woozy again, Metjen thought.

Don't be such a wimp, do you see that? Trueth responded.

'That' was the reason for the intrusion, he spotted drills and chisels scattered across the floor. The intruders must have tried to steal the ancient text. They had however not succeeded in damaging the wall apart from a small dimple in the surface right where the inscription began.

The hammers were broken, and the drills must have short-circuited as they stank of burnt plastic and overheated metal. A canvas bag lay nearby. That must have been intended to transport their loot once it had been separated from the surface of the wall.

They'd try to sell ancient toilet signs on the black market if they could. Rani-Ra prodded one of the recumbent forms on the floor with her foot.

Leave him alone! Trueth, any idea how long this sleepy spell will hold? Metjen projected

No idea. The guy in Avebury slept for hours. I'm stronger now. We should be safe for a while.

What do we do now? Rani-Ra projected.

Can't have those blokes around for the experiment. Take them into the courtyard and secure them. And before you ask, no I can't help you.

Thanks for that, Ranofer projected after they had dragged the beefy men out of the corridor.

You're most welcome. Sport is good for you. Shame only that father runs such a tight excavation, a couple of ropes would come in handy just to be sure, Metjen projected.

Trust me, Trueth thought.

I don't. Let's get cracking, we're running out of time.

Trueth and the twins installed themselves on their blankets in front of the wall and frantically tried to purge their minds of thoughts. They focussed on their breathing, on how the air was drawn in, how it flowed into the lungs, deeply, comfortingly—only to rush out with a snort and a giggle. Ten minutes later, still nothing had happened.

In the name of the Lord Ra, will you stop this babbling within your grey matter! Leave it to me, I'm really good at it. Metjen extended the Hand of Osiris. He was too far away to make them fall asleep, he could only dampen part of the excitement.

It worked. Quiet descended on the little gathering.

Not the silence of the tomb—there was a sibilant hissing coming from the wall. Incessant and insistent it increased in volume and then came the images. At first they saw a world under water, appearing in grey and then in blue. More colours showed. And suddenly people appeared. The priests and Pharaoh were filing in and out of houses and temples just as Trueth had described them.

The hissing became a voice as clear as his.

'This is no dream. This is a message from the past. The dark priests have let forth the demons, and we shifted our world into another. We sent our people to slumber through the journey. But the dark priests we banished continued their evil, and kin are caught between the worlds. When you hear this, the balance is about to break, and the sleepers are soon lost forever. You must save the people of Kemet before it is too late!'

The message repeated itself over and over like those men and women going in and out of these buildings. They had gone to sleep never to wake up again.

Metjen shook the others from their trance and pulled them back. They hurried through the little courtyard to check on the looters who had blissfully slept through it all. A pearly light anticipated the sunrise. The archaeologists were due shortly and could sort them out. Or the Necropolis police might finally turn up. Metjen did not care.

They had to work out how to save a world as well as a small temple.

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Thank you for staying with this novel so far - your comments and votes have carried us to the half-way point! By the way - 'Kemet' is the name the ancient Egyptians gave their home country.

This chapter is dedicated to @rmcneary - I thought he might appreciate the film reference. For those of you who don't know his  'Path of Light and Fire', do check it out, his is another fantasy novel I truly enjoy!