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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Metjen left Trueth cowering near the entrance while Ranofer examined the shrine more closely. After gushing over the furniture, Rani-Ra had joined him at the inscriptions. She poked him in the ribs, causing a fresh new bruise which hurt.
'There's a strange depression here where it uses the kheper hieroglyph with the scarab. Does that mean anything?'
'There's only one way to find out.' Metjen tapped a finger into the chink in the wall. Nothing assaulted his digit, but he had felt ridges within which he now probed pensively.
'Ring, please.'
Rani-Ra rummaged in his backpack and produced their heirloom, which Metjen pressed into the hole. With a click, a tablet-sized panel swung open among the text. They all jostled for viewing space.
Even Trueth had dragged herself up to stare at the less than healthy specimen of a scroll waiting inside with its upper part unrolled and facing them, hieroglyphs showing. The rest of the scroll was still curled tightly, most of it so badly burned it appeared charred. Carefully testing it for integrity, Metjen mind-lifted the scroll towards eye level to read the visible part of the text.
'From Amasis to those who bear the ring. My faithful servants promise me that they will conceal this notice as ordered. If you have come because of the instruction, you could be one of my descendants. If you also have the other half of the wig, this is most likely. Greetings, and may the demons swallow your ka if you are not ...'
Metjen did not dare to push it open any further, it was that fragile. 'We have to keep this safe and bring it back to father.'
'I know you'll hate me for this, but how can you be sure that there wasn't somebody in your ancestry back whenever all this happened who forced her real descendants to hand this stuff over?'
This time Ranofer mumbled a quick prayer, touched his protective amulet and cuffed Trueth over the head. Metjen hissed at him to stop it. To even assume that one of their ancestors could have committed such a crime was ridiculous.
A quick final glance revealed nothing further, so he conducted a cleansing ritual, aided by Rani-Ra, while Ranofer disappeared outside. Trueth slumped down her wall again. Metjen called upon Osiris to continue his protection of the dead woman's slumber, followed by a plea to the Lady Maat to forgive their intrusion.
'I feel like a man condemned,' he said. 'When I die, and they weigh my heart on the scales against the feather of Maat, they will find it too heavy, and I'm lost.'
'You're tired. And if it's that bad, you should have sent me instead. Nobody will weigh my heart, and I could have checked around for you safely,' Trueth said.
Metjen snorted. 'Thank you, this is meant kindly, but you might be surprised, I can tell you. But unless you provoke me any further, your demise will still take a while.'
