Get out your popcorn, tourists beware, here comes a paranormal adventure with a historical twist, set in Egypt--and Britain.
From Chapter 29 'Darkness': 'Did I just try to dive into that goo to get at a dead guy?' Trueth asked.
Define dead,' Me...
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Trueth rushed into the garden and made a beeline for the delicacies Metjen's mother had prepared for the occasion.
He swung his legs out of the hammock he had been dozing in and observed his friend with amusement. He knew only too well how it felt when one came back from the temple and the visions of decent food became reality.
By the time he had sauntered across, she had demolished a chicken leg and was reaching for the hummus.
'This is heaven,' she said, licking her lips.
'No,' Metjen responded. 'I'm sure you're still alive. Have some lamb kebab.' He pushed a skewer across and helped himself to the koshary.
'Is that enough, or do you need more?' Mother had joined them and examined the disaster zone on the table with a worried frown. 'I can offer you a rose cake?'
'No, thank you Mrs. Al-Nour, I'm full.' Trueth wiped her lips on a linen napkin, smearing sauce onto her cheeks.
Metjen sighed and picked up the cloth. 'May I?' He rubbed her cheek, but she batted him away.
As his mother re-entered the living room, she triggered the obligatory howling from behind the screen. Metjen rose and walked across to pick up Mish-Mish and place him on Trueth's lap. The cat would now perch there for at least the next half hour, purring peacefully and showing his relaxation by threading needle-sharp claws into her jeans. That might calm her down.
'Phew, I needed that.' On hand caressing the orange ball of fluff on her knees, Trueth pushed a copper strand out of her face. Her hair had grown so long, she had piled it on top in a messy nest which an appointment at the hairdresser later this afternoon would hopefully help to defrizz.
Metjen chuckled. 'Welcome to the club. I didn't join the Servants for their catering, it sucks. I suppose, it's the price one has to pay for being close to the last magical dregs left in this place.'
''Speaking of magic,' Trueth said, tickling the ears of the cat. 'I wanted to tell you before we arrived, but I was pre-occupied with praying for my life. I've got nightmares, and they're escalating. And the worst thing is—I'm not even sure they're nightmares.' Trueth described her nocturnal entertainment.
Metjen would have jumped up, but did not want to startle the dozing beast. 'I do too. Not at the temple but here. So do the twins. Our dreams aren't as detailed as yours, but what you mention sounds familiar somehow. And it's getting stronger. It feels like something has latched on to us and won't let go.'
He got up and leaned against the nearest palm tree. 'There's more. Yesterday Rani-Ra went to check out that wall once more. No idea why she bothered. But she heard a whispering like the voice in her dreams.'
'Hey, the wall whispers as well?' Trueth asked. 'This is getting ridiculous. Has your father found anything? I've been gone so long, I've missed all the action,' Trueth said.
