Cursed Times - Only Yesterday! Sequel to Wattys 2015 winner!

Chapter 48: Metjen - A Beautiful Mind

End of previous Chapter:

Suddenly, the air in the corridor condensed, got sucked into a spot of light, which expanded into the rainbow colours of the spectrum. A silhouette appeared, a shadow against the light; it kept wavering, finally settling on an angry orange. A smell of cardamom, myrrh and metal flooded the passage.

No need to tell us. Iseret and I were with Seisi and heard everything!

***

'You cannot be here,' Imhotep had turned his back to the portal and was staring at Metjen in such a way he felt like a bottom feeder among the fiends that were giving them so much trouble.

'It is well nigh, eh—impossible to maintain a projection of yourself across the worlds,' Imhotep added.

Metjen conceded that gramps did have a point there, his muscles were quivering like jelly, and his head felt as if it was slowly approaching meltdown. The dim outlines of his bedroom in Maadi floated in and out of the fiery haze that wavered through his mind. There it mingled with the orange-tainted blotches that were all he could perceive of the subterranean corridor. Metjen forced all his power into his focus and the vision improved.

What was he supposed to do when all he got from either Imhotep or the circle were stupid instructions that were as cryptic as they were annoying? 'Wait until the time is ripe,' had been one of them. 'We need to establish what is afoot,' had been another. By now, the circle surely had agglomerated a mountain of sticky red-tape, enough to frustrate even the most enterprising demon.

As much as Metjen hated to admit it, without Iseret's boost he would indeed have been incapable of executing his latest scheme. She had her uses once in a while, in fact, this happened far too often for his liking. On the other hand, it would have been downright stupid not to accept the offering.

So here he was, or rather: Here they were, observing Imhotep as he slowly moved backwards. An ordinary person would have eventually run into one of the walls on each side. The high priest of Thoth was no ordinary person, and his body was slowly melting into the smooth stones lining the corridor walls until only half a face remained.

On the other side of the hallway, Seisi stood motionless but Metjen felt mental feelers cautiously unfolding towards him. Knowing that his friend would eventually recognise him for who he was, he opened his ba to him and focussed on his grandfather once more.

'So I'm supposed to be the fall guy yet again, only because the circle cannot accept that the first servant of the Maat could have gone rogue? How can people who command so much power and should have so much insight be so—blind?'

The eyes in the stone face blinked once. 'Most members of the circle are convinced you have nothing to do with this. The others will not easily believe you were no willing accomplice to Ptahmes. But this is not what is important. We must construct a barrier that will keep us safe forever.' An arm emerged from the wall, fingers pointing at Metjen. 'It is better if you wait on the other side. In the meantime, I will see what I can do.'

'No,' Metjen responded. He felt something tickle his ankle, and it took a lot of concentration not to check the leg of the body parked over in Cairo. 'The circle needs to stop these debates, all of you. You are fooling yourselves. '

The arm vanished again into the stones. 'I shall disregard your inappropriate comments this once.'

Something tickled Metjen's other leg. His attention wavered, and he could feel his projection in the corridor pale and flutter.

Fur brushed along his thigh and from somewhere in the region of his feet sounded sonorous purring.

Must focus on Imhotep, Metjen thought as the tickling stopped. Must...it was no good.