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

Chapter 49: Trueth- Hang on Stupid!

End of previous chapter:

'Trueth! I implore you, help her.'

Metjen sighed and helped his friend clamber down from the sofa. 'It's allright mate. I'll make sure she's safe. We are not aligned with the portals, remember? We still have a bit of time. I couldn't save a kitten right now.'

'Mrrrp?' said Mish-Mish.

***

Trueth felt strangely calm, observing her rapid descent with a horrified detachment. Her arms stretched wide, her clothes flapping like the wings of a giant bird--only less effectively--she was plummeting through the icy skies above Mistworld. With a crack, the straps of the rucksack broke and it got torn from her back like a parachute. Needless to say, the pack did not contain any aerial safety devices of any form.

The ground below her was still shrouded in mist but surely, just before impact, she would spot the rocks that would batter her body into a bloody pulp. If she was lucky, she might land smack centre on Seisi's remains. Maybe they would be joined forever in a giant 'x marks the spot' type of smear. More likely, though, that she had got things wrong somehow and they were worlds apart.

She heard a sigh that was not hers and from one second to the next her environment changed. Instead of hurtling towards a violent death Trueth was floating above fat, fluffy clouds tinged with the peach hues of late afternoon. The skies above had taken on the glassy translucent turquoise usually experienced in seascapes. The air was balmy and instead of kneading her cheeks like so much dough, the wind was playing with her hair as it carried her along. There was no mountain in sight. Nor was there any sign of the Nile valley. Instead, she seemed to have become part of a celestial scenario that was almost baroque in its opulence. And it smelled of vanilla and tangerines.

This is beyond ridiculous, Trueth thought.

Had she already hit the ground and her bombastic environment resulted from the last signal sent by a mashed up brain? If it was that, her final brainwave was taking its own sweet time. She was not usually that slow.

Suddenly, one of the clouds next to her bubbled like boiling milk, bulged into a cauliflower shape, which in turn morphed into the ephemeral form of a woman in a long gown, carrying a staff. Slowly, colours flowed into the apparition from top to bottom and Trueth found herself hovering at face height with a vision she had last seen entering a burial mound in Mistworld below.

Trueth moved her arms experimentally and found that by kicking her feet she could change her flotation modus from horizontal to vertical. It felt more normal that way.

Her visitor from the past regarded her calmly, the snow white hair and the rough brownish gown untouched by the gentle breeze. The woman looked exactly the way she had appeared in that projection, with one exception: Her unseeing pale blue eyes had been replaced by a myriad of silvery faceted sparkles, reminding Trueth of a large insect.

The situation was bizarre, but given that she appeared to be still among the living Trueth decided to make the most of it. She sketched a wave with her hand. 'Uh, hullo? I'm not sure who you are, but I'm Trueth.'

The woman nodded. What she did next was as unexpected as it was unusual. Instead of the mind-talking Trueth had taken for granted, impressions formed in her head as if painted onto the inside of her brain. The conversation was going to be hard. Two spoken syllables followed, pushed from an unwilling larynx as if emitted by a waterlogged whistle.

'U-na.' The apparition pointed at herself.

Trueth tried a bow in mid-air and nearly lost her balance. 'Uh, pleased to meet you.' She waited.