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.'

Metjen took a deep breath. 'What part of impossible don't you understand, sis?'

Rani-Ra grinned at him. 'How about the part where she has a different kind of magic? Trueth might have other constraints. But fact is, she HAS healed herself. That's so cool.'

Metjen stormed off.

His sister jumped up and hugged Trueth. 'To be honest, we were getting worried for you. Again. And while you're at it, you could fix that other problem?'

Trueth removed the splint and wriggled her toes, a manouevre which gave her time to gather her thoughts. 'What other problem do you mean?'

'You falling in love with my bloody brother,' Rani-Ra said. 'Women always do it. He's used to that and it makes his head swell. I blame myself, I should have warned you and didn't.'

Trueth cautiously moved her feet onto the ground. 'Forget it, I knew myself. Just couldn't help it.'

'He respects you as a friend, you know? He'd go to hell and back if it helped you,' Rani-Ra said. 'But that means he can never love you. He's funny that way.'

She stepped in front of Trueth and extended her arms. 'See if we can get you into the vertical.'

Trueth grabbed those graceful arms and with surprising strength Rani-Ra pulled her upright. The leg hurt. But not much.

'Ship Ahoy!' The professor shouted and pointed towards the bend in the river where the last visible pair of pylons was gnawing at a reddening sky. A sail had appeared. Together with Rani-Ra Trueth stared into the distance where two red sails floated into view, topping ships considerably larger than the little skiff.

Behind her, Trueth noted movement as Metjen mind-nudged his gang into action.

The Servants dressed in their Nile-washed priestly outfits; the Al-Nours donned their last clean robes, the camp was swept, boxes re-arranged, the Ibis buried. Trueth cleaned up as best as she could and wrapped a long shendyt around her body like a linen bath towel before she returned into her stretcher. She still found standing upright hard to do. Mother Al-Nour dashed across to brush and braid her locks. 'You need to watch it, dear, the tip of your nose is sun-burn from this air, it's so much clearer here.'

Metjen reappeared in his ceremonial robes complete with the golden crown. Having applied his make-up, he appeared even more formidable in this environment than he usually did. Feet planted wide in golden sandals he placed himself on the dock to welcome the two ships.

What propelled them Trueth could not tell, for there was not much wind. But those huge red sails were swollen as if a hurricane had been blowing behind them, which explained their speedy arrival. Or maybe it was due to the whirring double row of oars sticking out at the bottom as if a Roman galley had mated with a centipede. A closer inspection of the oncoming vessels made her wonder whether any self-respecting Roman galley had ever sported leaf-shaped oars to the left and right of a curling stern that ended in a sissy lotus flower. The ships turned towards the mole, and Trueth saw a man on deck of the bigger barge raising his hands towards the masts. The hurricane died out of each sail and the bottom poles rose, dragging the sail cloth which furled and tied itself neatly to the top horizontal pole.

Standing on the foredeck of the first ship, she spotted several people, two of them waving. Seisi and Ranofer had returned. A decorated plank dropped from the first vessel at the same time as the second one was completing its docking manoeuvre. Even the smaller vessel was larger than the Selket.

Ranofer stormed down the gangway, followed by Seisi, hurricane man and the rest of the party from the foredeck. All of them wore flowing white robes with gold headdresses, glittering bands, or flower shaped cones on their heads--or wigs.

Trueth had always believed people in the past were vertically challenged and considered Seisi to be a giant. With this lot, he stood his ground but not above them. Hurricane man was not only the tallest but also the oldest of the newcomers judging from the grey showing in his crew cut. His face was clean shaven and unlined, still Trueth thought him to be in his early sixties.

The man stepped towards Metjen with an inscrutable expression on his face. Metjen bowed, and the other man returned his greeting in kind. Trueth noticed his hazel eyes. He also resembled Metjen's mother so much it was uncanny.

'Greetings,' the man said. 'I learned from this brave Pure One and the young man with sun-flow, who I understand is your brother, that it was you who has fulfilled the will of the gods.' .

'Ah--no. We did it together,' Metjen responded.

The man nodded and grinned in a way reminding Trueth of Metjen. And he gave their visitor a crocodile in return.

'I see. You have done it and that is all that is of importance.' The man seemed to wait for something. Metjen shook himself and started introductions. Trueth rolled her eyes. She knew this would get awkward again.

'Ah, that's my friend Trueth. She does not wish to acknowledge her father. Without her, we would not be here.'

'You are the Foreigner?' Hurricane man asked. Trueth inclined her head. He came closer, and Trueth winced as she noticed he had the Blessing. And there was something else; his eyes glowed just like Iseret's had done.

'Why do you not name your mother, as is the custom?' His quiet baritone hid its true volume, once more reminding her of Iseret's way of speaking.

'I thought only men counted here?' Trueth asked.

Giggles bubbled up from the group behind while the man smiled briefly. 'Not always. You are one of the People of the Mist, one of their healers. You remind me of Una...a friend of mine. Surely, you must be great in your land. Will they not miss you?'

Trueth snorted and hastily stopped herself. 'Where I come from I'm not supposed to exist.'

'Then it is good you are here. I hear you are injured, but I see you are healed?' Hurricane man did not seem surprised by what she had done. He rather took it for granted.

'It appears I have, but I'm surprised it worked.'

That got her the toothy grin again. 'It is an unusual skill only your people possess. I will finish what you started.' He muttered, stroked Trueth's leg, pain flared up briefly and was gone. And her leg was whole again.

'Thanks--I thank you.'

'It is nothing. We shall talk. You will be much welcome in the places of worship. Especially for those serving the Lady Selket, there you will find many who would be honoured to give you their name,' Hurricane man said.

Welcome, she? It sounded good. Not the temple bit, but she would worry about that later.

'If anybody gives her a name it will be me!' Metjen's mother stated with determination.

The man turned around and smiled. 'Yes, so shall it be.'

He straightened and faced Metjen, surrounded by his parents and siblings, the Servants gathered at the back of the group.

'I am Imhotep, Noble of the House of Suka, high priest of Thoth and Guardian of the People. These are the members of my house,' he pointed at the others who synchronised their bows to perfection. Even the women.

Trueth had been taking a few experimental steps and nearly dropped her shendyt. She recovered, and with determination tucked in the cloth. Bad enough to be running around wrapped in a flimsy towel, she must not flash the long-lost Imhotep.

Metjen's family appeared thunderstruck at his sudden reappearance. A smile surfaced on the the professor's face, he punched his right arm into the air and went 'Yes!'

That got him a worried vacant look from the subject of his lifelong research.

Next, the professor frowned 'High priest of Thoth? From the information we had, you were high priest of Ra?'

'I was never that,' Imhotep informed him. 'Your sources must have got tainted in the long interval.' He addressed Metjen again. 'I see my daughter Amasis and the others of my blood have done what they have been tasked to do. Amasis is not with you?' There was hope in his words but not a lot.

'No, she....a long time has passed,' Metjen said. 'We left offerings in her tomb.'

Imhotep's face had solidified. 'I understand, it is as I feared, the possibilities for their return were not good, and they all knew this, including Pharaoh.' His shoulders sagged. 'We had many teams in the other countries, but only yours prevailed. And only at the last moment it seems. But enough of that. We are here. You are here. It means her sacrifice was not in vain, and this is of importance.'

He snapped his long fingers and servants scuttled through their camp, picking up their belongings and moving them to the ships. 'Pray, follow me. We will go home. What is this?' He addressed his query at a howling blob who refused to let himself be collected along with the boxes and dashed behind a sphinx.

Trueth felt a spurt of energy, as Metjen threw a veil over his cat, picked him up and turned towards his ancestor. 'This is one of my two cats.' He nodded at Trueth, who had got hold of a purring Mish-Mish. Mirth briefly tugged at the corners of Imhotep's mouth before it disappeared again.

Trueth was not sure whether this was due to the felines, or her makeshift robe which was slipping again. She saw Seisi smiling at her and the shift shot back up. She smiled back.

'He eats well,' Imhotep observed and pointed at Blondie.

'That he does,' Trueth responded.

'Pray, proceed on board the 'Wings of Thoth',' Imhotep said with a wide sweep of his hand. 'We shall talk, and we shall eat--and we shall rebuild a world free of dark ones--nd demons.'

'Ah, yes,' she heard Metjen say to his ancestor as they were climbing the gangway. 'There's something you need to know... .'

***

God said "Show me the light." And now there was light on that other world. God thought that this was good. It was about time too. She also saw the smoke coming out of the temples and She sighed. They would want something next. She would tell the Others to get ready.

====

Dear Readers,

thank you so much for finishing 'Cursed Times - What Now?' I hope you enjoyed reading this novel as much as I enjoyed writing it. There are a couple more chapters to give you some more background. But there is even more - the wild adventure continues with 'Cursed Times - Only Yesterday!'

Would you like to know how Metjen, Trueth and the Al-Nours get on in their new world? Read  https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/37522492-cursed-times-only-yesterday-sequel-to-wattys-2015

I am told, this novel is even better! Find out for yourselves! XD

===

This chapter is dedicated to @RogmaryPerezP because she understood! Thank you for doing so.