Only a day later, Trueth once more found herself in the glittery grey corridor in front of the second wall, together with five of what Metjen claimed to be the fitter of the Servants. And his sister. The latter had been an unwelcome addition to their team. Metjen had prevented Nebmutef from joining, claiming that somebody needed to run the temple. But he stood no chance with Rani-Ra who blithely ignored her brother's suggestion all Al-Nours with limited or no magical talents should stay in the safety of their home.

'I'm coming, whether you like it or not,' she declared. Next, she went to the safe, took out the scarab ring and put it on her finger. 'Amasis was a female Guardian, so I'll wear it.'

Metjen scowled but did not object. He did not complain either when Nebmutef suggested the five Servants as reinforcements. Brother Gebu and Brother Amenemhet, aka the 'Bouncers',   were sturdy enough, as were Sister Nefer and Sister Isis. Brother Eje, however, was not. He was in his late seventies and had fallen behind. When he caught up with the others he was wheezing so hard, Trueth worried for his health.

Metjen never noticed; he beckoned for his sister to join him at the wall. 'Right, make yourself useful and do your 'Sesame open' thingy.'

Rani-Ra pressed the scarab into the indentation. For a moment, nothing happened until the wall flickered and dissolved into a bluish mist.

'Yee-hah.' Rani-Ra stepped into the blue and vanished.

Right behind her, the mist congealed again into a solid surface made of stone—complete with indentation. Unfortunately, the ring had disappeared together with its bearer.

'I can't believe this.' Metjen stared at the wall, then knocked on it and prodded the little mark. Nothing happened.

'Rani-Ra?'

No response.

Metjen's face went from white to red as he shouted, swore and cursed, willing the wall to release his sister. The wall remained unimpressed. Prayers spoken by their priestly escorts left no impression either.

With a cold feeling in her stomach, Trueth approached the wall. 'Let me try. The sparks were blue, maybe that thing likes my magic better?' She focussed and released a bolt at the mark. It flashed briefly. But it did not release its prey.

'Bloody Imhotep and his light, it's all his fault.' Metjen rushed past her and kicked the obstacle.

The bluish mist reappeared together with Rani-Ra's head. 'Where are you folks, I've been waiting for ages? This place is real creepy.'

Among shouts of joys from the Servants, Metjen rushed into the mist and must have got hold of his sister, for she complained, and parts of her showed as she was rubbing her arm.

Metjen stuck his head back out. 'You stay with me and the others go through—now.'

Nobody needed another invitation. Trueth went last. She found it difficult getting appendages to work which had until recently been a serviceable pair of legs. She flowed through what felt like liquid ice, shivered to the core and froze to a halt.

Her breath came out in a puff of white. 'What on Earth is this?'

'Cold.' Metjen was rummaging in his backpack for warm clothing. Instead, he found an egg sandwich his mother had sneaked in.

'Curses,' Sister Isis said. 'A whole chamber full of them.'

'Not just here, I checked out that shaft and they're in there as well.' Rani-Ra pointed at the dark top of a stairwell.

Trueth examined the chamber they found themselves in. It was only illuminated on the side they had emerged in, the other lay in shadows. Covering the walls next to her were rows over rows of curses spilling over from the chamber into the shaft Rani-Ra had mentioned. Somebody had taught Trueth well at the temple—for she too could read what had been written to ensure protection against dark priests and demons.

'That we know by now,' Metjen said impatiently.

'But...these curses didn't work,' Sister Nefer said. 'Somebody destroyed them.'

She was right. The burn marks of an ancient explosion extended from the gloomy side of the chamber. Sooty streaks slashed across the hieroglyphs; in places the texts appeared to have been rammed by a giant fist and chunks of wall had crashed to the ground. Flakes of wispy residue had blown across from the dark side and gathered at the bottom of their wall.

The air was as still as it was icy, an unpleasant whiff lurking underneath. If mould burned - would it give off an acrid stink?

'Lord, see this.' Brother Gebu pointed at an inscription on the intact part of the wall. Metjen bent towards the text.

'It says here the curses will protect the Pylon of Hope and the Device of Life. 'Those that will follow' will then awaken the sleepers.' He scratched his head and read some more. 'I've seen nothing like this before. These curses would have required hundreds of strong priests to give them the power to carry.' Metjen stared into the chaos of the chamber.

Trueth groaned. 'Who are 'Those that will follow'? These people keep coming out of the stonework like there's no tomorrow.'

'Might well be, but they're from the past,' Rani-Ra said. 'What device are they talking about now? The key?'

'No clue,' Trueth shivered, they needed to move. Something crunched underfoot as she did. Trueth looked down. 'Metjen-the floor... .'

Rani-Ra sought warmth among the priestesses. 'I told you this place is real creepy.'

Footsteps showed among the residue. They appeared to be the imprints left behind by a small army of people that had burst through their wall, crossed the chamber and tracked dust and dirt into the shaft. And in doing so they obliterated the traces of another party that had arrived before them.

Eje knelt on the ground with an effort to examine the footprints on their side. 'This group was running-and they wore sandals. The tracks resemble ours around the temple.'

He got up with difficulty and soot-stained knees. Eje stared into the gloomy part of the room and said, 'More sandal tracks. Given that they are partically covered by the footsteps coming from our wall , that group must have arrived first. Looks as if there was the explosion, then one party came from the dark side, and another came from our wall, running after them.' He slowly turned around and pointed out a third set of footprints emerging from the shaft. 'The runners came back and left through our the wall. They were not running any more. There are no return tracks on the dark side.'

'What the hell happened back then? Whenever back then was?' If she survived this, she would never wear another sandal, Trueth thought. Ever.

She joined Metjen at the top of the shaft where the tracks merged. A set of stone steps disappearing down the middle was wedged in by ramps on both sides and a roof on top, sloping steeply over the stairwell. Like the walls, the shaft had been covered in curses until magical overkill crushed the protection they once offered. What looked like acid had run over the inscriptions, dripped onto the ramps and spilled downwards, blistering the stone. The pungent odour was stronger here.

'Do you sense anything?' Trueth asked.

Metjen shook his head. 'It's shades of grey to me. I go first, you only follow if I call you.'

Step by step, he disappeared into the dusk until only the echo of his footfall remained. It stopped abruptly. Heartbeats measured the length of silence.

You can come.

Trueth motioned for Rani-Ra to stay behind her as the group descended in single file. Destruction ran beside them all the way down, surfacing from the gloom as they crept towards a pearly glow. Patterns flickered across the ceiling causing Trueth to break out in a sweat despite the lingering frost which shrouded them in the mist of their breaths.

They reached a landing and found Metjen close to a doorway blocked by a grey-blue haze emanating from the room. To Trueth it looked as if light had taken form and was reaching out for them with translucent hands. There was a smell of metal and myrrh in the air, neither unpleasant nor pleasing, mingling with the tinge of acid as it drifted towards them.

I'll see whether I can get in there. You wait. Metjen got closer to the haze which beckoned in swirls of playful aloofness.

Wait! We should try this together, Trueth projected.

Metjen waved her off as he stopped right in front of the hazy tendrils which continued their gentle sway on an unseen breeze.

Metjen projected. Stay where you are! I can't sense much. This stuff isn't deadly, but that's all I can sense. I will--.

The haze lashed out, curled around Metjen and dragged him through the doorway. Trueth jerked back and nearly trod on a priestess.The quiet air pantomime took up its performance again.

Isis pursed her mouth and shook her head. 'Her Wisdom did say she wasn't sure about the length of his path.'

'We must save Lord Metjen!' Brother Amenemhet shot forwards.

'Stop!' Trueth and Rani-Ra yelled at the top of their lungs. So did the other Servants. Fortunately, the good brother did—just as a tendril whizzed through the space he would otherwise have occupied.

'Phew, that was close. Where has my idiot brother got to now?' Rani-Ra asked.

'We will say a prayer for the Lord... .' The Servants chorused.

'Spare me your prayers.' Trueth stared at the incorporeal barricade. Suddenly, the hazy hands gestured wildly, and Metjen reappeared.

'This hide and seek stuff with magical obstacles is getting old,' his sister observed.

Metjen looked grave. 'Follow me, you must see this.'

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If you liked this chapter, please let me have your comments and your votes.They are appreciated. Very much indeed. This chapter is dedicated to no_its_kat because she liked it XD.