HalfWorlder #Wattys2017

Chapter 14-The Oracle at the Temple of Amun

Alexandra, semi-conscious and now fueled by adrenaline, looked around at the room we had fallen into. It was an underground temple of sorts. The thick dust that coated everything gave away its age but there were modern boot prints here too, still visible on the floor. And one of the prints was larger than the other. One a man's. The other a woman.

Dad and Elaine.

There was a wooden plank table off-center in the room and an alcove featuring a too-tall stone statue of a middle-aged woman sitting on a throne with one outstretched hand. She was completely made of chiseled gray marble, so beautiful Michelangelo himself could do no better. No paint adorned her, but it didn't matter. That would have only distracted from her perfection. In her extended palm-open hand, she held a ring embellished with green emeralds sized only for a woman's finger. Her stance was an invitation.

But I was wary.

"I wish Ryan was here." Alexandra limped over and traced her finger along an inscription on the dais the statue rested on. She had giant purple and black raging bruises on the back of her legs and arms. They grew worse by the minute, the color spreading like two shades of paint being stirred together. I tried to put it out of my mind and made my way over to see what she found.

"It's Arabic." I ran my fingers across the rough edged stone, piecing together some of the words. "I think its Egyptian Arabic, though. It's older."

"Seek Truth." I mouthed the words slowly. "Umm, this is 'ring' and I think here it says 'bearer' or 'wearer.' I'm not sure."

Alexandra faltered and I rested my hand on her back. She leaned back into me, worrying me even more.

"I think you know what I have to do."

The extended hand was an invitation.

I nodded my head in agreement. I didn't want to let her do it, but I stepped back.

I hope this will work.

Alexandra approached the statue's hand. She reached out and her hand hung there in the air. "I'm going to borrow this for a minute. Please no Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade stuff today, okay? I don't think I can take anymore."

The statue stared blankly ahead. "Yeah, okay."

Alexandra took the ring from her hand without a problem. Sighing in relief, she put it on her right index finger and slowly slipped it down, but became instantly rigid and trance-like with her hand outstretched just like the statue, turning to face me, just as it did.

It was creepy, but then it got worse.

The stone lady stood up to mimic Alexandra. When the statue moved, Alexandra did as well, like they were tied together. The statue moved her mouth and a deep woman's voice emanated from both her and Alexandra's lips in echoing stereo.

"I am the Oracle of Amun and I wake for a second time in two millennia in so many weeks. What fate do you seek, child? Approach."

Huh, the oracle was a girl.

I didn't know who was calling me, but walked closer and chose to kneel below the stone ladies' living hard eyes. "Gilbert Scott, uh," I stammered, "my lady, from California."

She touched my head. Alexandra made the same motion in the air, but remained standing where she was.

Creepy.

The Oracle spoke slowly, deliberately. "Ah." A shiver coursed through the rock she was made of when she touched me. "You are finally come Gilbert Alastair Scott. The fates named you long ago. Your destiny lies in the Knot of Isis."