The Forgotten God

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Where are you going?"

Marie sighed and hurried down the corridor as Mr Montford strode down. The tiles were cracked and the lights hanging dangerously from weak wires but he wasn't fazed.

"You wanted to move, didn't you?" He said bluntly, focused on avoiding the pits and on the concaved door at the end. "Well, I decided you were right and I shall take a few matters into my own hands. The papyrus might not have given much away but it has enough imagery for me to form some conclusions."

"What conclusions?" Ash huffed. For a man who was so much older and whose injuries should have rendered him incapable of moving, he had an amazing endurance.

"Hieroglyphics can be interpreted many was," Mr Montford answered with a smile. "Sometimes just one picture can give you a lot of information. A picture does speak a thousand words after all. And why risk remaining like sitting ducks when we can perhaps help our divine, yet sluggish, helpers?"

"I suppose," Ash looked back at where the ceiling seemed to sunk down more. The consequences too dire to think about had it fallen in completely. "But I do wish you'd tell us what you're doing, how the hell can we help if you keep everything a secret?"

"If the objects are still intact then I will reveal all," Mr Montford paused to smile over his shoulder. "Or at least all I think I know, which is probably not much. Besides, you know how I am when I'm looking for something, the names always escape me. I don't think saying the grey, conical thing is much help, is it?"

Marie laughed merrily and moved ahead. The hinges of the door were bent out of shape, the safety glass shattered and decorating the floor with the plaster from above. She was used to hauling hefty and weighty buckets and pulling the heavy door open with her elbow but this was a challenge even for her.

"Don't strain yourself," she looked sternly, addressing him as she did her late grandfather when he tried to overdo things. "You need to conserve energy or you won't heal. Let Ash and me handle these, and," she shook her finger as he opened his mouth to protest. "I'll not have any argument! If I have to push you down, I will!"

"Very well," Mr Montford leaned against the wall, feeling the exhaustion chew as his muscles. They ached dreadfully from the blows he had taken and were enhanced by the antiseptic Marie had daubed him with. As much as it was needed, he resented the added pain it caused as it worked. "I'm not foolish enough to argue with a woman."

"What exactly are you looking for?" Ash knelt to force the base of the door, lifting his voice to be heard over the shrill shriek of the strained and crippled hinges. "You can give us a clue, surely?"

"A statue and two amulets." The answer was noncommittal as Mr Montford closed his eyes, gathering himself and picturing the pieces he hadn't looked at for some time. "Until I see them properly, I won't know if they were what I think they are. I don't want to get your hopes up, or my own."

Marie nodded with understanding; the mindset similar to her own late father's. Never raise hopes as then you would never have them dashed. In truth it didn't stop the spark in your heart, that was human nature but the disappointment perhaps didn't last as long.

Ash didn't see it the same way and his eyes darkened, feeling that old uneasy sensation of having something kept from him. When people did that it often meant something unpleasant.

'It's only an upset stomach! Nothing for you to worry about.'

That's what his Aunt had told him. That she would be right and rain soon enough. Less than five months later he was standing in the chapel staring in disbelief at her coffin. Even at ten years old he could have understood cancer, or could have been prepared for it.

It had etched a deep gash inside him and now, when people seemed evasive, even pleasantly so, that old fear reared its ugly head.

"If it's important then don't hide it," he grunted as the door shifted, giving his employer a glacial look. "I think it's impossible to get your hopes up too high at the moment. Yet a little bit might bring some light back."

Mr Montford hesitated with a soft hum. His fingers toyed with the papers, holding onto them like they were gold leaf.

"I believe," he started slowly as if addressing a frightened toddler. "That to bring complete and utter disrepair to the world he will need three things. The Djed pillar and two amulets, the one of the buckle and the one of the Shen. All these have properties that are vital and, perhaps unfortunately, we have examples of them here." He looked at Ash pleadingly. "You just have to trust me."

Ash appeared mollified by the answer but the gloom didn't leave his eyes and his lips pursed into a thin line as they finally forced the door and were met by a cloud of dust from the broken walls and shattered exhibits that had been beneath them.

Moving forward Mr Montford stepped over the threshold even before the earthen mist had cleared, scouring the room rapidly. His hopes had sunk as soon as he saw the debris and, had it not been for the urgency, he could have wept at seeing the history that had been destroyed so easily after lasting the centuries.

'There's no use in mourning it,' he thought stoically 'they need life to appreciate them and that is what we need to preserve. The earth has hidden many other treasures which I'm sure can be just as wonderous and the memories can be passed down.'

Even with that logic it was hard to stomach as he surveyed about him, fearing the worst as he took in the ruins of his pride and joy. It was like losing a beloved heirloom, you swore never to become sentimental but the emotions wheedled their way in.

"Oh, thank God!" The words escaped with more euphoria than he wanted as he rested a hand on his heart, legs almost buckling in relief when his eyes spotted the cabinet displaying the Egyptian relics. The Perspex was badly damaged, a white honeycomb spreading proudly around a large segment of the ceiling but the contents were mostly intact, albeit disordered.

His feet crunched on the broken glass, grinding it into finer granules, as he made his way over. After stumbling twice, he felt Ash take a firm hold of his arm.

"You really know how to make me feel like an old codger," he grumbled, fighting the inner urge to pull away stubbornly. "I'm not that bad, if it wasn't for my intervention you'd have been in pieces, quite literally!"

"Yes, now I can thank you by making sure you don't break a leg," Ash countered crisply "so take it as a favour for a favour."

Mr Montford whistled but didn't protest anymore, his mind fixed on the dust laden artefacts that lay scattered in their cases.

He reached out tentatively to pluck a tarnished emblem from amongst the jumbled pieces. It was less spectacular than once it had been and the red materials dulled but he could still picture how it must have been when first crafted, glowing as powerfully as the dawning sun in carnelian glory.

"The blood of Isis," he whispered, letting the papers slip from his fingers as he took better hold of it, eyes misting at the power he could now feel from it. There was a true aura surrounding the amulets, their purpose being called to the fore once again. He had never felt that before, they had been stagnant and his mind had been closed as he saw them as many did, pieces of superstition from a less advanced time.

He shuddered, stroking the grime carefully from the crimson jewels. How many more pieces were displayed with such nonchalance and ignorance?

He shook his head, handing it over to Marie. "Hold onto it, I think it may be what we need. How we use them is another question but the important thing is we have them!"

Marie looked baffled, a dozen questions ruminating through her head, but she shrugged, staying silent for now as he continued to mutter under his breath, examining and discarding the pieces.

Giving a sigh Ash wandered away to look out of the window and over the unpleasant landscape. Normally it was full of people hurrying from work or on various errands, cars impatiently stuck in rush hour traffic with their drivers fuming as bicycles sped past them.

Now it was a ghost town, the only movement he could see was a bottle rolling down the sidewalk, pushed by the breeze.

That was, until a strange shadow staggered from the alleyway, stretching out drunkenly before its owner. Ash narrowed his eyes to try and see better, He couldn't quite believe that anyone would be intoxicated now, although perhaps to some it was a worthwhile coping technique.

No. His first thoughts were of a person badly injured and how he wished that was the case.

As he was about to call out and offer help the figure lurched into view and all words caught in his throat.

The rags clinging to the body indicated a woman. Once dressed in a clean, white gown with lace embroidering the bodice it was now grimy with the marks of many worms chewing and sheer age. The figure itself could not be recognised as any gender at all.

The skin was nigh on gone; clinging wafer thin to her skull. Small speckles of flesh remained on the thicker upper arm, leathery and frail enough for the soft cotton to rub away from the bone.

His breath caught in his throat with only the smallest of gasps escaping but that was enough to gain attention and sickness overtook him as the empty sockets turned to look his way.

"Be still my beating heart," he muttered, his words reaching Marie's ears. "I think that's pretty apt at the moment."

Marie peered over his shoulder, the optimistic glow draining from her face as she saw what had caught his attention. It didn't take a wise woman to know that the museum would be where it was heading.

Hastily she tucked the amulet into the folds of her pocket, her hands beginning to sweat, and turned back to Mr Montford.

"Get what you need, more than you need," she shook his good arm firmly. "We need to go. Even if it isn't after these, I don't want to be around here to find out what it does want. I've seen plenty of movies with my cousins to get a decent idea, even from behind a pillow."

The previous day, if she had seen something like that, she would have assumed it was someone in costume looking for get a few scares from unsuspecting travellers. At worse, someone who had disguised themselves to rob a*****e. Now, her mind darted to the strangest possibilities, for all she knew it could still be some ridiculous outfit.

Mr Montford was about to query what the sudden hassle was but, upon seeing face, her lips set in grim, straight line, he wisely decided to ignore it, gathering up several items and stuffing them into his pockets without a care for their age as they clattered together.

"We'll explain when we're out the way, or further away," Ash stated firmly as he motioned toward the door. "At least on the other side of the building there's a fire exit as well so we'll have some security, although if the exhibits have been crushed it'll be like walking for a swamp."

---

Across the city Kyle had come across another who could be passed off as a walking corpse, but one who hadn't been summoned by an archaic spell from a God.

In his addled state Aiden didn't bat an eyelid at the apish creature that loped alongside his fair-weather friend. He'd seen many strange things with the concoctions he took, talking streetlights, two-headed dogs, he took it all in his stride now.

Slumping back against the filthy, urine-soaked wall he watched the pair approach, faces becoming little to no clearer to the closer they came.

His hand patted the ground for a long empty bottle that had been smashed when the first quake threw it from him. The sharp scent of the vodka still clung to him, beckoning and urging for more. Yet, despite the sedation, the mixes couldn't eradicate pain and having cut himself he was being slightly more cautious. Adding more pain to what he already felt in his leg was unconceivable.

"That you, Kyle?" He slurred, squinting in his direction. "You got those damned painkillers yet? My legs fu..."

"No, I didn't get the hospital job, did I?" Kyle snapped, cutting him off. "And I've told you, go to the damn doctor. That's what the NHS are for, decent people on less pay and wastrels like you who've never lifted anything more than a glass."

"Don't trust doctors," Aiden hung his head down with a snort. "Give you vaccines and mind controlling s**t. Just one big conspiracy, you dumb git."

Babi hopped about him, looking at him in disgust. "I think the only mind controlling substances are what you're poisoning yourself with." He looked infuriated. "Is this truly the best you have, human?"

"No. But he knows where the others are, most of the time," Kyle said hastily "some information he holds as well as his liquor."

Babi grabbed hold of Aiden's jaw and forced his head, rolling his eyes at the unfocused stare that met him. It was true that he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth but this was hardly a package wrapped to perfection.

"What ails your leg, mortal?" He demanded, releasing his grip before the shimmering drool left the limp lips. "I am better than any doctor."

"Yeah?" Aiden dashed the spittle away. "Well, I dunno. Got knifed and ever since it's been b****y hurting, that give you a clue?" He reached down to pull the ragged trouser leg up. His legs were thin, lacking muscles and the skin was damaged from past needle use. "I washed it a bit but what else can you do? Body heals itself, right?"

Kyle turned as a rancid odour of decay and infection rose up. The stab wound was not deep but left untreated an infection had set it, merrily spreading and swelling the area to twice its normal size. Even the most expert of physicians would have been unnerved on viewing it.

"Such a fuss over something so easy to treat," Babi said airily, leaning heavily just above the injured thigh. "I'll help you, but you will help me. You will find me the ones who are willing to m**m and kill for wealth and loyalty, do you understand?" He wrenched Aiden's head back, snarling furiously. "Do you?"

"Yeah, yeah! Whatever!" Aiden pushed blindly against the bulky shape. "Just do it and I'll tell ya!"

Babi sat back, grinning widely. His eyes were full of wicked excitement as he took a firm hold of the upper leg, his thick fingers feeling expertly for where the joints met.

Watching him, Kyle felt himself pale, unable to speak and warn Aiden what the creature planned to do. He covered his ears as the sound of tearing flesh punctuated the air, joined by the shrill, agonised scream.

"Not even worth consuming," Babi snorted, casting the torn limb from him into the bins. "The blood is putrid." He hauled himself atop the weeping form, Aiden's breath heaving painfully and slapped him sharply. "Cease your whining! The flow will stop and your leg will not trouble you! Perhaps now you will trust the gifts bestowed upon you more!"

"Perhaps..." Kyle repeated dully as he watched the crimson flow begin to thicken. The power radiating from the God was enough to freeze the sun itself and choke the strongest man. "Or maybe we never learn."