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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Congratulations, Metjen thought. He had been plain stupid. He had given that idiot woman what she asked for--the truth. Was she happy now, was she grateful? She was not. Women were bundles of unnecessary emotions and supreme irrationality. And Trueth was not even good-looking, which might otherwise compensate for the usual shortcomings of her sex. Nice boobs but otherwise far too thin, freckled all over and that milky pale skin of hers was not his thing. Plus, she lacked the refinement he preferred for those ladies who had the pleasure to share his bed.
Her shrewdness can be useful, a niggly inner voice piped up, reminding him of his mother.
Metjen resolutely repressed that voice. There was no time for further reflections. The 'Selket' rumbled against her Cairo moorings, and they took a boisterous leave of Akil, Captain Ebo and his crew. Akil offered his services should transportation back to Luxor be required. Metjen nodded briefly, he had spotted the excavation team's dust-covered minivan with his mother at its wheel. The twins were rushing across, only Trueth remained at the quay, next to the pile of their suitcases. She was shaking the hand of every crew member. before hugging first Akil, then Captain Ebo. She did not wipe her hands afterwards and Metjen wondered whether she had run out of sani-wipes.
'Are you coming, dear?' Mother trilled from back of the minibus where she was overseeing the loading of their luggage.
Had anybody been watching closer, he would have noticed the suitcases hopping inside the van seemingly of their own accord. Had anybody been close, this would, of course, not have happened. At least Metjen hoped so. Trueth had taken her seat, the doors thumped shut, and the minibus rolled off, joining the throng of afternoon traffic.
Back in Maadi, they had hardly drawn to a stop when his father, who no doubt had been pacing the rooms eagerly awaiting their arrival, rushed outside to grab the container with the scroll. Two furry shapes were in hot pursuit. They seemed to appreciate not only the open mosquito screen but also the mass arrival of potential tin openers. Metjen grabbed a purring Mish-Mish, any attempts trying to hoist the blob were foiled when Blondie speed-waddled under the nearest table. There he stayed until things had settled, and food had been consumed—above and beneath the table. Only then did he clamber onto the garden seat next to Trueth and put his front paws on long jeans-clad legs, stretched and unsheathed his claws.
'Ouch!' Trueth disentangled the beast from the fabric. 'And you should lose weight.'
Somewhere inside the house his father bellowed. It sounded like an order and a sharp one at that.
'Aha, Dad has discovered something,' Metjen said. He draped a sleepy Mish-Mish over his shoulder and rose.
Trueth tried the same approach with Blondie. No chance. He dropped to the lawn and trotted after Rani-Ra, who was holding the door open for them. They clomped up the staircase to his father's professorial study. It was lined with shelves stuffed with books on many subjects, not only those related to archaeology. It did not offer enough space for all of them, but they crammed in nevertheless. His father was sitting at his antique walnut desk, facing the window that had not only been shuttered but covered with a black cloth as well.
