“…which leaves us with the final pillar.”

Qalaa, after being encouraged to speak for perhaps the first time ever, was revelling in the attention.

“Horus, right?” I asked after we’d both swum over to the last puzzle. It was the second-closest to the door, which gives an entirely false impression of having made progress. Qalaa, in his role as teacher, had proven to be a mixed blessing. He had knowledge, yes, but also a bad habit of leading me to the answer and then abandoning me when he felt I had all I needed to know. As a result, I had lost another two attempts and the ability to stand upright, paddling frantically with my free arm to stay afloat.

And the water was icy. For the first time since Madagascar I actually felt cold. Shudders racked my torso and my teeth were trying to rattle their way out of my head. To make matters worse, what felt like roots were brushing and twining against my body. At least, I’m telling myself it was roots. From upside-down trees that grew in basements. Yes, such things must exist. The alternative was too horrific to process.

“Actually—fun fact—while Horus is most commonly associated with the falcon, there is another divine representation that also takes this form. Can you guess which?”

A splash of water flicked up and smacked me in the mouth, making my head jerk upwards enough to hit the ceiling. The splash was followed by a dark hump that barely breached the water. The ‘roots’ in this temple were particularly large and furry. Maybe a fertility god was showing off.

Focus. What had he been blathering about? The names of gods, that was it. Egyptian gods. Beyond what I’ve already demonstrated I don’t know, is there anything I do know about Egyptian gods? I tried to think of any vids that might give me insight. The only one that came to mind was ancient, certainly. Also, animated, which somewhat lessened its potential value. My grandmother had loved them. Us, not so much. But neither my brother nor I had had the heart to refuse her, or the snacks she would stack oh-so-subtly on the coffee table. During those annual holidays, we gained knowledge and weight that no teenager would ever admit to—including musical choruses. This one had featured a list of gods, what were they? But all I could remember was…

“…Ra?”

“Indeed! I knew you had the makings of a scholar. Even High Priestess Memshavit could sense it. She doesn’t often offer personal instruction after her initial tour.”

“So if this is Ra,” I continued, beginning to get excited. “Then what’s his animal symbol?”

“Wait, wait. Not so fast. You have yet to distinguish between the two gods. Only when you have carefully considered—“

“Ridiculous,” Gerdy hissed. “We’re on the verge of drowning and the person who has the answer thinks he’s Socrates. Does he realise that if we die, so does he?”

“You have a better idea?” I muttered through my teeth.

“Shine that torch closer to the pillar.”

I manoeuvred over and tried to find a stable position; difficult to do when you’re bobbing about on the water. There may not have been a current, but the activity of two people trying to keep afloat (and possibly other denizens) created a slight chop that made bringing the hieroglyph into focus a very hit-and-miss affair. I also had to paddle myself between Qalaa and Gerdy when she launched herself over to the pillar. No sense in tempting fate—or whatever worm Qalaa had in his head around the destruction of insects.

“Higher,” she demanded, and for a second I flashed back to a night when a flat tire had spelled the end of a romantic relationship. He had been just as pissy and demanding—and with less cause. No one calls me ‘bitch’ when I don’t even have the pleasure of earning it.

“It’s slightly red,” Gerdy said, interrupting my reverie.

“—Now, if you look closely, you’ll see a globe above the figure. This symbolises the fact that Horus and Ra are both solar gods. That is…“ Qalaa rambled on, obvious to the fact that no one was paying attention.

“What is?”

“As I said, a globe—“

“The circle! There’s a faint smudge of red paint still inside it.”

“—each representing the sun and moon respectively.”

What had Memshavit said about Horus? Something about the eye…? It had been lost in a divine scrap, then healed badly, creating—?

“The moon! That’s it. Horus is god of the moon, and that means Ra must be the sun!” I was so proud of myself that I barely noticed when something soft rubbed across my back. Otters, that’s all. Sacred otters that roam freely about the temple. Probably imported from Africa.

“Excellent!” Qalaa cried. “My teaching skills must have greatly influenced your recall. You know, for a moment there, I could have sworn you weren’t listening.”

I was already examining the animal glyphs beneath. Unfortunately, there were no birds of prey among them. Plenty of reptiles and horned mammals, but no falcons. Bugger.

“So; again. What is Ra’s animal of choice?” I questioned Qalaa. If I could just make him get to the point…

“Ra has many different aspects, some even representing a different time of day. In his scarab form, for example, he rolls up the sun like a giant ball of…er…ball, and then changes to his falcon form at midday, and finally into a ram—“

“Don’t listen to him,” Gerdy interrupted. She had upgraded from hovering to grasping the indentation at the bottom of the sun disk, saving herself some energy as she propped her feet on the god’s bent elbows. Probably just as well Qalaa couldn’t see her. It was probably the human equivalent of using a god as a footstool. “Choose the cobra!”

“Hmm?”

“Apart from his falcon form, Ra is most commonly associated with a cobra. See the head and tail bracketing the sun?”

“How do you know all this?”

Qalaa puffed out his chest in misdirected pride. “It’s all a matter of opening your ears and using your perception, my dear. If there’s one thing that life has taught me—“

“What he says,” Gerdy answered reluctantly. As if it was an act of personal sacrifice to give Qalaa credit. “I was with you on the tour with Memshavit. I listened. It’s not exactly a laugh a minute curled into your sweaty neck, you know.”

“I’m not keeping you plastered there. You could use your own muscles.”

“I assure you,” Qalaa said, looking a bit confused. “I am treading water most efficiently. But if you want me to move, I am more than willing to be closer to the door. I do so want to be the first to see what lies beyond.”

“Fine,” I said absently. I had a sneaking suspicion Gerdy would prove the better ally anyway.

“Sure, encourage me to be more vulnerable to the likes of him.”

“Don’t try to make out you’re some kind of fragile flower; I know what you’re capable of. You could destroy Qalaa in a heartbeat.”

Gerdy preened. “I could, couldn’t I?” Her eyes followed the seer speculatively.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we? I’m getting wrinkles on my wrinkles,” I complained, propelling myself around the animal block. At least the snake symbol was easy to find, even if it was tucked around the back, closest to the wall.

‘READY?” I called, then rotated the block slowly and carefully, using my legs against the lower part of the pillar to keep the momentum. By the time I reached back around, Gerdy had vanished from the hieroglyph..

When the cobra finally matched its position with Ra and clicked into place, I held my breath. Useless, I know. I would have been better to have used the opportunity to push air into my lungs, rather than deny it entry.

After a pause a rumble suddenly shook the Temple, bigger than any I’d felt before. I briefly wondered if it registered as an earthquake to the residents, or if indeed the ceiling was preparing to collapse in a time-sensitive trap. If a player could even move when sight was so painful, I thought as a glow began to appear from between the enormous doors. After being in the dark for so long the light felt like a laser, growing wider and more consuming with each passing second.

The water around me began to swirl, and a strong current wrenched my legs free of the pillar, dragging me towards the doors. Afraid of bashing against them, I reached back for the pillar and missed, barely managing to wedge my fingers into a hieroglyph on the one remaining for long enough to wrap my body around it, koala-style.

Qalaa, closer to the door, was not so lucky. With the speed of a loosened cork in a bottle of bubbly, he shot through the gap, only his tippy fingers on the door’s edge saving him from being splattered into whatever was waiting beyond.

“QALAA!!”

Strangely, that voice wasn’t mine. Or even Gerdy’s. I could clearly distinguish the wrathful voice of Memshavit, screeching at a pitch fit to break glass. The old girl sure had a set of lungs on her. The voice actor probably had to take a day off to recover.

As the doors opened even farther, I could see that she did indeed have plenty to shout about. And in a very familiar location. Instead of opening into a secret base, the doors had opened back into the antechamber where we’d started. We had effectively travelled no farther than the next room.

Close to the stand where the Horus statue had been displayed, Memshavit and her acolytes lay sprawled across the floor, thoroughly saturated. The wave of water had obviously caught them full on. They were also struggling with an army of cat-sized rats who were swarming over them in panicked disarray. Mutual panicked disarray. The sudden current had caught them up and spat them out like furry missiles, and they were clearly not happy about it.

Luckily, hidden as I was behind my pillar, the womens’ only human focus was Qalaa, gingerly prying his fingers from the door and finding his footing in what was rapidly becoming a gentle stream.

The High Priestess got to her feet with a speed propelled by rage, stick held to the side in an attitude that read more sport than ceremonial. And when she reached Qalaa she wielded it with devastating effect. Wallop. “I knew of your eccentricities”—thwack—“and generously allowed you to remain in this Temple!”—wallop—“But no more! You have desecrated”—thwack—“this institution”—thwack—“for the last time!” She pulled up finally and staggered sideways, huffing from the exertion.

“But—“ Qalaa, having crouched in a defensive ball, shuffled back a little. It looked like he was planning to escape, though he was going to have to do better than crab-walking his way back inside the vestibule in order to achieve that particular goal. Memshavit was pissed.

My suspicion was confirmed when he stepped back and turned, standing on his tiptoes to give the closest animal block a twirl. With a click, the doors began to close again, making the pillar I was clinging to descend, until I was forced to hike my legs up so that my bum was now resting of the floor. It was a wonder our hosts hadn’t already seen the anomaly of pink thigh against sandblock.

“You are hereby BANISHED from the Temple of—“

For a second it looked like Qalaa was going to get away with it. The doors were certainly going to close before Memshavit—the nearest—could drag him through. But then, inexplicably, he stumbled forward, wincing away from the vestibule, and coming perilously close to the gap. There, he wobbled uncertainly, before tripping over thin, slightly glowing air and landing in a heap outside. The door closed shortly afterwards with adecisive, rock-smashing crunch.

I was soon afterwards joined by Gerdy.

“Humans really are easy to defeat,” she boasted as she fluttered back to her favoured spot on my shoulder. (Let’s face it, my girl was just lazy.)

I shook my head resignedly. “You realise that we’re now stuck in this place without a guide?”

“I have faith in our abilities. It’s not so different from a dungeon, after all. And that is my specialty.” Her chin lifted. “Of course, I don’t know how you’re going to contribute. You’re not even silver-rank.”

“Hey!” I protested, getting up and allowing the water that had caught in my lap to cascade to the floor. Elegant. “I may not have much experience, but on the only occasion that I’ve gone into a dungeon, I aced it. Killed the mob boss and came out with the core and everything.”

Gerdy clapped her hands slowly—in mock congratulation. “That would be impressive if it wasn’t for the fact that I know how old Bert is. Anyone can defeat a juvenile core. They’re barely even aware of their surroundings. You should be shamed, not proud.”

“That doesn’t count. Bert took over from the former core, who was considerably more advanced. I had to defeat a lvl 25 Super-moth and outsmart a Mayan god to get out of that dungeon.” I waved the torch around, trying to find an alternative exit. Nothing.

Silence from Gerdy. When she broke it she was unusually solemn. “Then what happened to the previous core’s fairy?”

I frowned. “Actually, I have no idea. Hadn’t even thought about it. Bert?”

To my knowledge, no such entity has ever existed in this realm. He hesitated, before addressing Gerdy. It is why I was so surprised to see you.

“I am alone?”

“More like unique,” I said emphatically.

“But where are my family, my people? There were thousands in my village alone. Are they all…gone?”

No. I am beginning to suspect that they exist on a different plane altogether. One outside my influence. Though your schematics are somewhat familiar.

“You’ve checked out my code?” Gerdy’s arm crossed over her chest protectively, as if she felt exposed.

Hmm. Well…you were, after all, an unknown, Bert said apologetically.

“Surely you—ack!“ I was abruptly cut off as the wall I had begun to lean against suddenly gave way, and I found my ass kissing stone for the second time in as many minutes. Shit.

Gerdy, caught equally unprepared, slid off my shoulder and also fell. Unable to take flight in the short distance to the floor, she experienced her own gravity-inspired epiphany. I have to admit her squeak of distress was a lot cuter than mine.

At least the torch was still burning. The fall hadn’t broken the bulb at all. (Look, it’s a perfectly viable explanation for magical appliances. And I feel more comfortable comparing it to a night light than a magical stick.)

Strangely, shining the torch on where I’d been standing left me none the wiser. Just another wall. It took an outstretched hand to make me realise that the wall itself was a sham. Material met my fingers, rough and coarse, with texture and mortar lines painted on to allow the curtain to blend in. Designed to hide…?

Somewhere in the distance the weak cry of a baby could be heard. Before it abruptly cut off.

…a nursery? What was a baby doing in a temple?

“Bert. You know where we are?”

I believe we are on the outside edges of the Sanctuary. It should be comprised of many connected chambers, all dedicated to the service of the Shrine.

“So, not residences.”

No.

Gerdy was still cursing up a storm beside me. But it was her who asked the question that we were both thinking.

“Then what's with the kid?”

Bert was silent. Hoarding his precious knowledge like a miser, no doubt. Worryingly. I’ve watched enough vids—and not those with a G-rating—to know that mixing babies with darkness is a single blade away from a horror flick.

“I don’t want anything to do with fighting wee crawlers. Babes are to be treasured.” Gerdy sounded surprisingly adamant for someone who regarded the killing of their grown counterparts as a competitive sport. It made me wonder what the reproductive rate was for a fairy. All too minimal if Gerdy’s reaction was anything to go by.

“That’s up to you,” I said.

“Are you sure? I’ve been taught that being a part of a dungeon triad means I should assist when necessary.”

Really? I managed to bite back. I hadn’t noticed much in the way of assistance prior to entering the Temple. Maybe Bert had had a quiet word while I’d been out to it.

“Let’s make a deal. You do all that you can reasonably do, and I’ll handle the rest.”

While we’d been talking, I’d stepped up to the newly-revealed entrance. You really had to be impressed by the attention to detail. Hieroglyphs again covered the surrounds, a few now made familiar from my experience with the pillars. There was Thoth, Set, Ra, the strangely geriatric-looking Taweret, Mickey Mouse…

I stopped abruptly and turned, convinced that my eyes were playing tricks on my brain. Two solar gods posing together, maybe, giving the illusion of a pair of rounded ears.

But no. Inset, and completely out of place, the Disney hero posed, hand upraised in a wave.

What the fuck?

“Bert? Care to explain?” I actually didn’t expect an answer. He had made it plain that he wanted to stay neutral during the puzzle stages.

Unprecedented. Again. He paused, and I could almost feel him rifling through the matrix. It is a pic file, constructed by a foreign author, and connected to a text packet. Let us see… Oh.

“What is it?”

It reads: “Hacker detected. Tighten defences.”

“Doesn’t your software have a firewall to keep out that sort of thing?”

Of a sort. When the system stabilised I left several paths open, hoping to attract the attention of the administrators. It was a calculated risk. For the first time since we met, I heard worry in his mind voice. I will need to consult the logs.

“Can we talk about this later?” Gerdy asked plaintively as the baby cried out again—this time accompanied by the sound of something hollow and metallic falling. (Or landing, rather. The falling was obviously silent.)

My heart, already pounding, found a slightly faster rhythm. Probably just as well my real body was ensconced in a hospital bed. “Good point,” I agreed, moving forward. The Mick Mouse Mystery was important, but not immediately so. Scary infant noises had priority.

The next room that we walked into was filled with alcoves to either side, some storing ceremonial costumes and apparatus, others with food and drink. In one of these, a cup lay on the floor. Probably the object that had fallen earlier. It was slightly creepy to know that something or someone had been wandering about this very place just a few seconds before.

And…are those teeth-marks? I picked the cup up, keeping a wary eye out for any movement.

The cup itself was plain, though its colour was indistinct in the darkness. But regardless, the indentations along the rim were unmistakeable, if too wide and deep to belong to any normal human.

Bamm-Bamm?

I carefully put the cup back on the shelf, flinching when metal clanged against metal. No ceramics for these guys. Though I supposed having unbreakable materials was essential in a Superbaby household.

“Is that gold?” Gerdy, her eyes either more accustomed, or programmed to be better able to detect colour in a dim environment, had locked on to the cup.

“Maybe…?” I eyed it with a new appreciation.

“You’re not going to steal it, are you?”

“What? Why would you think that?” I said defensively.

“Dungeon Fairy lore states that all adventurers have a mercenary streak. It’s endemic to your species. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” she assured me hastily. “Very useful to a core—greed, that is. They can use loot to both bribe adventurers into going into areas they may not feel ready for and reward success. It’s like giving a dog treats when they do tricks…or refrain from eating small, flying objects.”

“So you think I should take it?”

“Are you crazy? You don’t take toys away from a baby! That’s just…mean.”

“’Point. And I do have a shit ton of gold stashed away already.” Though not currently in my holding bag. I really did need to go down to my vault soon and make a hefty withdrawal. I suspected the bank fees in an Egyptian temple were scandalous. Downright larcenous, in fact. Memshavit had had that look in her eye…

What was that? It sounded like the thump of bare feet against stone—if those feet were size twenty and had a poor centre of balance. There had been a hitch at the end there…

SLAM!

The floor shuddered beneath us, sending pieces of the walls scurrying. They fell with comparative quietness, a discreet crackle that sounded somehow apologetic.

“Your turn! Your turn!” Gerdy screeched, diving amongst my robes.

I flinched a little. Understandably. You would too if someone stuffed something living down your top. Her legs were surprisingly strong for someone so little.

A giggle from close by. Then the noise of something heavy shifting sporadically across the floor. Like a body being dragged by someone who needed to rest in between pulls.

At least it was heading away from us. The sound grew more faint, before disappearing altogether. Toward the far exit. Unfortunately, it was also the only exit—unless I wanted to give up and face the wrath of Memshavit, already riled up by Qalaa.

Naaah, I decided. And stepped forward.