Labyrinth Through The Mirror of Time Chapter 33

 Chapter 33. A Perfect Crime

While within the ether wall Remi and the two boys experienced subtly coded messages, revelations, and a new vision of Amarna’s true history, in Shehrazad’s courtyard all those bound with the cedar-resin-soaked rope were waiting on tenterhooks for the trio's return. Upon their faces, one could read the anxiety and dread that, from now on, instead of a single captive within the ether wall, there were three. The placement of the carpet, where Remi and the children lay stretched out in the immediate vicinity of the Mirror of Time, allowed everyone to simultaneously track the images drifting across the water's glossy surface and the facial expressions of the three.

"Look, they have tears in their eyes, they are crying!" Shehrazad observed at one point. "I pray to all the gods that they return safely among us!"

The seven cats, though bound with rope, were placed almost strategically all around the mirror and watched, as if hypnotised, everything it sought to show them. At one moment, Doctor Hazem El-Amin, who was bound next to the cat Maat, noticed the twins and Remi appearing on the water screen, and then he understood:

"The Mirror of Time is repairing itself before our very eyes, there is no longer any doubt, look!" Doctor Hazem cried out, with an animation that instantly shattered the panic in the courtyard. "It is becoming our physical bridge once more! The very moment this water screen stabilises completely, the ether wall will release them, and the pathway for our physical travels through time will be wide open again!"

The doctor’s words ignited a spark of triumph in the hearts of everyone present. The dread that had frozen their faces transformed into a burning certainty: it was no longer a question of *if* they would return, but merely *how soon* they would step through the rediscovered portal in the flesh.

"You are right, Doctor," Shehrazad breathed somewhat relieved. "What do you advise us to do next? Do you think we can help them in any way?"

"For now, we watch and wait!" Doctor Hazem uttered, his gaze pinned to the trembling surface of the water.

The Mirror of Time had become a living window through which the two eras touched edges. Upon its sheen, the images from ancient Amarna succeeded one another with astonishing clarity. Those left in the courtyard could now see the threatening silhouette of Ay in the queen's attack, then the fountain with yellow lotuses where Remi and the children were speaking with Mehyt and Meritbastet.

"Look at the cats," Anemo whispered with a heavy heart, pointing to the seven felines bound in a circle. "Not one of them makes a sound, not one of them makes a gesture, they have seemingly frozen."

Yet the cats' fur seemed to pulse gently, and the cedar-resin-soaked rope, which connected them all to the carpet where the inert bodies of Remi, Samir, and Demir lay, had begun to exude a subtle scent of bitter almonds. The cat Maat moved her ears slightly, as if hearing directly in her mind the words Samir and Remi were speaking there, beyond the barrier of time, regarding the technological jamming of the 21st century.

In the water's reflection, the image focused once more on Demir’s face, who had just asked Remi the crucial question: "Do you mean, brother, that if we could travel physically in time again, to a non-technological era, this magic would repair itself?"

But before receiving an answer, the image on the water screen changed rapidly, shifting to the Pharaoh’s study—a room Remi and Demir had visited once before, during one of their first experiences inside the ether wall.

***

From within the ether wall, Remi and the two boys witnessed helplessly another painful scene of crucial importance.

Akhenaten was visibly marked by the recent loss of his mother, yet he wished to continue fulfilling his duties as an enlightened leader of his people.

Although there was a multitude of papyrus scrolls upon the table in front of him, Akhenaten simply held his temples in his hands. His massive body seemed like a prisoner to the high-backed chair in which he sat, and he repeated in a low voice:

"This headache is killing me! High Priest, can your skilful hand perhaps soothe my pain?"

"Assuredly, my glorious Pharaoh. Aten has always guided my hands to bring peace to the chosen ones," the cunning Ay replied, stepping out from the shadows with a deep bow, but with his eyes gleaming malevolently.

Ay approached the royal chair noiselessly. Beneath his robe, concealed between his skilful fingers, the long, slender needle awaited the perfect moment.

"My massage will banish your pain, both physical and emotional. My sister, the glorious Pharaoh’s mother, would not wish to see you suffer."

Ay placed his palms on the Pharaoh’s tense shoulders, beginning to massage his neck with slow, calculated movements.

"Your Majesty’s mother was very suspicious and anxious, Great Pharaoh. The twins are not of royal seed... If I may be so bold!"

From within the ether wall, Remi, Samir, and Demir watched transfixed, their souls gripped by profound grief. They knew exactly what was coming. Demir covered his eyes with his palms, refusing to watch any longer the malevolent ritual of death repeating itself before them, while Remi clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh. They were there, just inches away from history, yet trapped behind the invisible barrier of time, unable to make a sound or stop the killer's hand.

"Tilt your head back, Your Divinity..." Ay whispered in a honeyed voice, while his thumbs found the exact spot behind the right ear, just below the lobe. "I feel the knot of pain. Just one more moment, and you will be rid of it forever."

Akhenaten let out a heavy sigh of exhaustion and rested his head against the back of the chair, closing his eyes with complete trust in the man he considered his mentor and father-in-law.

In that second of total surrender, the high priest acted with surgical, lightning-fast precision. The long needle pierced the skin, leaving barely any trace, driving directly into the medulla oblongata.

The Pharaoh’s massive body tensed suddenly, as if struck by an unseen bolt of lightning. His fingers gripped the edges of the chair, a brief grimace of surprise crossed his face, but his eyes never managed to open again. In the next instant, his muscles relaxed abruptly, and his breath stopped for good. Akhenaten, the heretic king, was now merely an inert piece of history in the hands of his assassin.

Ay adjusted the head into a natural position, smoothed the folds of the robe, and took a step back, gazing at the lifeless body with a sinister smile, barely sketched upon his smooth face.