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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A bit earlier....
The tendril slammed Metjen into the packed-earth ground with a vehemence that jarred his bones. He called up the protective wings of Nut and wrapped them around his body before he jumped up from the floor.
The wings cost precious magical energy, but this place could cost his life. The room he found himself in reminded him of the temple's main chamber, only its ceiling was much higher. It was clad in the same grey stone as the original corridor and again was covered in curses. Which were in the same abysmal state as those outside.
Unlike those, the new chamber was free of dust and debris. Instead, a profusion of baskets and trunks lined its walls. A fusty stench assaulted his nostrils.
This stink is familiar, he thought. He whirled around once, spotted four walls, but no exit—and noticed the plinth in the middle.
On a familiar tasselled silk mattress rested an equally familiar small figure, clad in white and staring beyond the room with unseeing eyes.
Your Wisdom?
There was no response. As Metjen crept closer, he remembered that the wings rendered him invisible. He hesitated briefly, then dispelled his cover.
You came even quicker than expected. A silent non-voice echoed in his brain.
Iseret remained on her plinth with her legs crossed. Her arms were hanging loosely at her sides while her eyes still focussed on whatever she saw beyond the wall behind Metjen. She appeared vibrant and more fully alive than he had ever seen her before, even her hair had changed to a glossy black, with bluish sparks rippling through her locks. Metjen sensed pressure on his head and a compulsion to drop onto his knees. It made him wonder whether he might have shed those wings too quickly.
Stop your mind-games, he projected, stepped towards the front of the plinth and ascended into a matching position in mid-air.
Iseret smiled at him. Or rather: She showed her teeth in a grimace that could pass for a smile.
'Who did you bring?' She asked. 'Before you pose unwise questions—I conjured the haze for my protection, but it limits my perception as it limited yours.'
Her voice still packed a world full of power into words spoken without volume. She had to be fully recovered but he was not, so he better be careful. Metjen told her about the expedition. Iseret nodded once and floated off her plinth, beckoning to him to follow towards the side of the chamber.
She pressed her hands against the wall, and what had been solid stone one moment flowed aside, showing an opening above another shaft. It penetrated further into the deep, its walls bearing even more of the destroyed protective curses. Chunks of rock, soot and debris covered the steps as far as he could see.
'What happened?' Metjen asked. 'The demons?'
Iseret shook her head. 'The dark priests found their way inside Imhotep's edifice but had no time to call those fiends. It is their entrance I use when I need to be alone. The one you now came through was protected by the curse that gave you such pains. It was beyond their reach as it was beyond yours.'
