I start the climb.
After the first hundred stairs, the cover of the tall surrounding walls left behind, I feel naked. No shadows to hide in here. No side streets. No careful management of pace and positioning to avoid eyes. I am brightly lit, a lone figure steadily ascending the most visible structure in the city. Any eye turned this way will see me.
And many do.
I keep my pace steady, despite the temptation to climb as quickly as possible.I cannot afford to be exhausted by the time I face Ka. And so I stop every so often. Turn to find at first a few curious onlookers, then more, until finally it feels as though the streets are clogged with upturned faces. Silent, as far as I can tell. Watching with confusion? Fascination? Horror?
I am treading sacred ground, and Ka has not struck me down.
The city looks almost peaceful from so high up. I can see clear across the river to Neter-khertet, the green glow of the streets there flooding upward to create an ugly miasma, an ephemeral cloud that screams of death and decay. I see Westerners gathered over there, too; some are watching me, some are going about their daily business. Many more are clumped around the end of the shattered bridge, back some way to avoid the notice of the Gleaners which still glide ethereally over the now-smooth waters.
An Overseer must surely have spotted my progress by now, but none of Ka’s iunctii even twitch in my direction. The Overseers themselves cannot follow me, not here. But the Gleaners could, if they were informed.
Kiya’s interference continues to work. I wonder for how much longer.
I continue trudging upward. Higher and higher. Twenty minutes. Forty. No hint of resistance. The terrifying thrum of energy and pulse of golden light my only companions. Through my constant anxious checking of the scenes below, I cannot help but again wonder at what will happen, should I be successful here. Am I about to kill some, or even all, of the iunctii as well? I have no clear concept of what infrastructure Ka might be supporting through simply being alive.
But over my shoulder, I see the Aurora Columnae in the Sanctum pulsing more brightly than ever, too. It reminds me of Caeror’s exhortations. His brother and my friends in the world we left behind. The risk of something terrible happening here, or the certainty of it happening there.
And I press on.
It takes almost an hour to reach the entrance. My legs ache by the end despite my attempts at managing my pace, breath coming in hard gasps as I’m faced with a door made entirely of gold. Similar in construction to themutalisdoor in Qabr, but no crook and flail on this one. Just a single, large symbol.
A scarab.
Unlike both Qabr and the rest of this pyramid, though, the door is oddly still, not pulsing and flickering and vibrating with the unsettling rhythm that I’ve almost become accustomed to over the past hour. I frown, then push against it tiredly. The scarab seems to flicker, just for a moment.
The door doesn’t move.
I push again, harder, but this time nothing at all happens. I wipe sweat from my brow and take a slow, deep breath to fight off the panic. There will be a way to open it. Therehasto be.
I glance around, my gaze sweeping the city below. Duat looks so calm from up here; I can barely see the people now. Except, I realise, for the Gleaners. They’re in a swarm. Seem bigger than everyone else.
“Oh,vek.” Not now. I’m so close. I snatch out my knife, slice across my palm again and grip my weapons. Slam the crook into the door as it thrums to life beneath my grasp.
It bounces off with a dull, metallic clang.
I try again twice more in frenzied panic before I recover myself enough to accept that it’s not working.Vek vek vek. The Gleaners are getting closer. Arrowing toward me. No question that they know I’m here.
“Think,” I mutter in desperate self-exhortation. “Think think think thinkthink.”
Of course this door wasn’t destroyed by themutalis; it’s surrounded by the stuff. But it’s inactive, too. Like my weapons.
I slam my bloodied hand against the scarab.
It quivers, thrums. Flickers.
The door swings open.
There’s a gold-lit stairwell. Descending, this time. I rush inside and try to shut the door again, but it won’t budge.
Rottinggods. No time. I give up, grip my thrumming weapons tightly, and bolt downward.
THE LONG, WINDING STAIRCASE HAS NO DEFENCES. NOone and nothing guarding the way. No traps. Not even any side openings. I think I can hear sounds of pursuit but the Gleaners will have to navigate like normal people, down here, too narrow a space for flight. The interior of the pyramid, however, does not pulse and quiver withmutalis. They won’t need to worry about making contact with its surface.
Once I stop, I doubt I’ll have long before they catch up to me.
I dash recklessly downward for what must be at least a couple of minutesbefore I reach another door. Simple wood, this time; I push it open with a mixture of urgency and caution, but there is no sound, no movement from beyond.
