Cursed Times - What Now?

Chapter 49 - Homecoming

Trueth shivered with cold as the heat spread from her wound. With a detached calmness she examined herself and concluded the outlook was dire. If a patient was in that state, I would suck my teeth and if I was a horse, I would shoot myself.

Not for the first time she cursed those constraints on her magic, constraints that prevented her from using her healing powers on herself... . With a jolt, she sat upright. Since when did she listen to other people telling her without trying things out for herself? She might die. So be it. The alternative was waiting for the demonic fever to win.

Not acceptable, Trueth thought. She licked her dry lips and once more glanced towards the shiny river. An empty shiny river. No skiff. No sleepers, nor did she spot any trace of Seisi or Ranofer. The day had gone hot; it cooled again in the afternoon breeze, just as it had done in their old world. On the other bank, a whole city had emerged from the mist. A city of the dead with tombs, mastabas, pyramids and sphinxes scattered over the place in colourful abundance.

I've found the perfect place for dying. Trueth suppressed a groan and sank back into the stretcher that had been suspended on two oars they had found. Her splinted leg stuck out on one side, but it still was the most comfortable position. Until she needed to get up, but to avoid that she drank less Nile water.

If she wanted to try healing herself, she needed to act soon, before dehydration and fever got the better of her. 

Once more she checked the Nile. No movement other than a flock of geese flapping upriver.

Trueth calmed her racing heartbeat and focussed on that pool of magic deep inside her. It had retreated, felt feebler, frailer than it usually did--Was it already too late? She dipped into the blue, coaxed it upwards and send a trickle towards her leg, sensed it moving, creeping through her veins--until it hit the dark stream invading her body. Her muscles cramped, went rigid as a fiery pain sliced through her leg, into her torso, her head. Trueth's sight went first, next went her hearing until there was nothing but a universe of torture screeching in her mind.

It was there one moment, gone the next.

Instead, fog surrounded her. Or smoke. Something grey. Something smelling of ash. Then that was gone too. Slowly, steadily she was floating into an azure vastness that gently shifted to green. And still she was rising, ascending towards a light above her. A light that changed colour, became a face... .

'What ARE you doing, woman?' Metjen stood next to her, holding her limp wrist in his hand in an ineffective attempt at checking her pulse.

'I'm not sure. Did it work?'

'Did what work?' Metjen asked impatiently and dropped her wrist.

'There was a funny blue flash, and you went all floppy,' Rani-Ra had joined him. She stepped closer and looked at Trueth, a frown creasing her smooth forehead.. 'You look different. Not so...flushed. What did you do?'

That was a good question. Trueth struggled to sit up and gingerly touched her calf. It was cool to the touch and while it had not stopped hurting, it felt--whole. Emboldened, she stroked her leg and noticed the swelling had gone. When she prodded her flesh she noticed a lingering numbness but nothing worse.

'Hm. I think I just cured most of my problems myself though I don't think I'll get far with that leg.'

Metjen waggled his finger at her. 'You can't heal yourself, it's not possible and you know that.'

Rani-Ra had knelt next to Trueth, probing her leg. 'Well, if she hasn't, she's doing a good imitation of having done so. What Trueth really needs is an X-ray, but I dare say that bone has knitted. Certainly that red swelling has gone. I could not touch her otherwise.'