A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews and encouragement. We're back to the past. Please remember what I said regarding the past selves = dubbed names. It should be fairly self explanatory, but I know not everyone is familiar with the dubbed names, so in this chapter:

Moku = Mokuba
Serenity = Shizuka
Téa = Anzu


The defenses of the palace were supposed to be impenetrable, especially after Akefia had stolen the two Millennium Items. Heru, who had spent much of his life learning how to get into places that were considered to be safe, got in with ease. In spite of what Akefia believed about his abilities, he was an expert assassin, widely revered for his abilities to carry out his mission and leave without anyone being the wiser until the bodies were discovered. It would've been all too easy for him to have killed the little prince if that was the next step that he and Akefia had decided to carry out. Instead, he was here for a different purpose.

No one in the palace gave him a second look - not surprising. Part of being an assassin involved knowing how to fit in. Akefia depended on his stealth to avoid being caught, while Heru favored being able to slip on disguises that left him looking and acting like a completely different person, whether that was a slave, a farmer, or a servant, which was the guise he had taken on that morning. The simple outfit and a lowered head meant that none of the guards paid him any attention whatsoever, and he was able to make his way to his destination with no problems.

There was a girl already in the room when he entered. Heru stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "Who are you?" he asked, one hand resting lightly on the curve of his hip. The artfully hidden knives beneath the hem of his skirt were never more than a twist of the hand away.

"I am a servant of the Head Priest," she said quietly, her eyes lowered demurely. "He requested my presence during your meeting."

He wondered if that was true. In his experience, people who deliberately asked for witnesses to their underhanded practices generally lived to regret it. Still, she was nothing but a servant, and a low level one at that judging by the dust smeared across her cheeks and the front of her clothing. "Very well," he said at last, though he never removed his hand from the comforting weight of his knife.

One of the doors on the far side of the room opened and Akhenaden entered in a sweep of majestic robes. The gold of the Millennium Eye glittered as his gaze swept the room, and for a moment something dark passed over his face when he spotted Heru. "You've arrived," he said softly, as though he hadn't been expecting that Heru would show up. He came closer, pausing a few feet away, and a dangerous smile curled his lips. "What news have you to report to me?"

"I have what you asked for," Heru said, his sense of unease growing. He'd never been fully comfortable around Priest Akhenaden; it was far from the first time that someone in a position of power had requested his services, but there was something about the man that didn't feel right and he was noticing it now more than ever. He hadn't dared to bring the Millennium Rod along - it seemed like a fool's game to bring it into the palace with him after Akefia had used all of his considerable skills to get it out - but now he wished he'd taken the chance. There was a danger here that he was unfamiliar with and it was making the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

"Excellent," Akhenaden breathed. He held out a hand expectantly.

Heru hesitated, his other hand sliding into his pocket and gripping the vial. It felt cold in the loose circle of his fingers, even though it should have been warm from the heat of his body. It had taken some time for him to find it: what Akhenaden wanted was rare and hard to come by because it was so very dangerous. This small vial had cost a pretty sum even though Heru had used connections and favors to get it. Akhenaden had promised that the reward would be worthwhile and now the last step, the easiest step, was somehow proving to be the hardest. He stared at the man's hand and felt cold.

"What are you going to do with it?" he asked suddenly.

Akhenaden seemed to be surprised by the question and so did the servant girl. She looked up at him sharply as the priest said, "You dare to question my methods?"

"Part of my job is knowing who will die by my hand," Heru lied coldly, wondering what he was doing. Normally he made it a point to keep his head down and not know anything. The easiest way to keep out of trouble was to be able to face interrogators with a mind free of any guilt. He couldn't admit to killing a man if he didn't know the name of the man he had actually killed. But this… something inside of him was on edge. This was different and he didn't know why, but he knew it was important.

"I was promised discretion."

"You'll get it. Who would I tell?" Heru looked at him with an amused little smile. Even if he tried to tell someone about the plans the priest had made, no one would believe him. No one would think that the High Priest could ever be guilty of conspiring to kill someone.

"My brother," Akhenaden said at last.

The Pharaoh. To most people the realization that Akhenaden was planning to kill the living god would have been outrageous and horrifying. Heru merely stared at him silently, considering. He had no affection for the man who had ordered the death of Kuru Eruna, who had turned Akefia into the broken thief that he was. The idea of the Pharaoh's death didn't bother him one bit. He was less sure about the idea of what would come next. Akhenaden clearly had the throne in mind and to do that he would need to get rid of the prince.

It was disturbing how much the idea of the prince's death bothered him.

"You will need to make sure he drinks it," he said finally, pulling the small vial out. About half full, the liquid inside was a dark color and sloshed gently as he held it up. "The taste is bitter and it will burn his mouth otherwise. Hide it in pomegranate juice or something that has a strong flavor so that he will swallow it before he realizes what's going on. There is only enough for one dose, and if something goes wrong I won't be able to get any more, so make it count."

"My plan is fool proof." Akhenaden took the vial gently, cradling it between his hands as his eye gleamed with triumph. "You, girl, get him his payment."

The servant bowed quickly and scuttled over to a small box. She opened the top and removed a pouch made of tough cloth. Heru took it from her and parted the drawstring cautiously, knowing better than to stick his fingers in without checking to make sure there was nothing dangerous inside. A pile of golden coins gleamed up at him and he swallowed. It was more money than he would have believed possible, more than even Akefia had ever been able to steal. Enough to keep both of them legally in food and water for several years, a lifetime if they were cautious and spent wisely.

"Our deal is concluded," he said hoarsely. "Do not call upon me again, Priest, for I will not come to you."

"I have no more need of you."

It was clearly a dismissal and Heru took it, fleeing the room before he could give in to his base instincts and snatch the vial back. He didn't remember the passage out of the palace; it passed by in a blur until he came back to himself outside of the walls, safe from danger. Heru clenched his hand tightly around the pouch, feeling oddly sick to his stomach. He didn't understand why he felt this way. The prince was as bad as the pharaoh, everyone said as much. Why should he care whether the boy lived or died? Why did he?

SGTY

The instant that the boy was gone, Amane let out a breath of quiet relief. She turned and looked at Hafiz - no, at Priest Akhenaden, as he was now. Akhenaden was standing in a corner of the room, turning the vial round in his hands, causing the dim candlelight to be absorbed into the viscous fluid. She had no idea what kind of poison it was, but Heru seemed to think that it would cause the death of the pharaoh and she had no doubt that he would be right. And even though she'd known that this would happen, it still seemed somehow abhorrent to stand by and watch a man be murdered by someone he trusted.

"It bothers him," she said, and as soon as the words were out of her mouth she inwardly cursed herself for being unable to remain silent. Having Akhenaden's attention was never a good thing, but she stood her ground when he glanced at her. "Heru, I mean. You said they wouldn't remember anything about the future. But he does. He feels loyalty to Atemu."

Akhenaden scoffed and waved a hand. "In the end it won't matter."

Amane bit her lip to hold back the rest of what she wanted to say: that it did matter very much. Perhaps Akhenaden hadn't been paying close attention, but she had been watching and she'd seen the look on Heru's face when he connected the dots and realized that it meant Atemu would be next. That brief, shining moment of discomfort mingled with a rage that she wasn't even sure Heru had realized he was feeling made her certain that, while Akhenaden would be able to kill the Pharaoh with little problems, he might have some difficulty following through on his plans for the prince.

That was the thing about loyalty, about love. It endured no matter what the circumstances, but she also knew that was something that Akhenaden would never be able to understand. He was operating off of the belief that everything was exactly how it had always been, that there was no residual effect from having brought the souls of the future back and burying them beneath the consciousness of the past. Amane suspected differently… and she couldn't wait for the moment when Akhenaden would find out.

STGY

After seeing Atemu off to his quarters so that the servants could prepare him for dinner, Seth proceeded onto his own set of rooms. He felt curiously lighthearted as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He'd been honest with his cousin when he said that he didn't mind the theft of the Millennium Rod. The items were dangerous and of dubious origins: no one seemed to be all that certain of where they'd come from. They had just appeared in the palace one morning and, considering the strength of their power, not much had been done to look into their history. He suspected that the Pharaoh was too concerned with the fact that he might find out information he didn't really want to know.

Heaving a soft sigh, he pulled his headdress off and placed it lightly on his desk before he entered his bedroom. As he'd been expecting, there were two familiar figures there already, sprawled across his bed and ruining the careful work that the servants had put into straightening out his sheets. Two children, both a handful of years younger than he was, one female and one male. Seth watched indulgently as the two of them bent their heads together, frantically whispering in voices meant to not attract attention as they discussed the parchment they were leaning over. He never would have expected to see himself as a man who enjoyed being around other people, but here he was.

And yet... he almost felt as though his life was missing something, sometimes. Just now he felt peculiar, as though there was supposed to be someone else in the room. But when he searched his memory, trying to identify the person he was missing, he kept coming up blank. If he didn't know better he would have guessed that someone had put a spell on him, but to the best of his recollections this was the way it had always been, ever since he'd turned fourteen and been deemed old enough to have a personal servant of his own. There were people who had looked poorly on him for choosing servants who were so young, but Seth had never once regretted his decision.

"Moku," he said gently. "Serenity."

"Oh! Priest!" Serenity jumped to her feet, a look of alarm spreading across her face. She had always been the more timid of the two and it had been a hard habit to break her of, the desire to throw herself down on the floor at the least little sign of someone who was above in her status. In private, Seth insisted that those rules be more lax. He sighed now as Serenity started to kneel and then froze, obviously remembering his wishes at the last minute. She looked up awkwardly, caught in a position that couldn't have been comfortable.

"Rise," he told her, watching as she obeyed. "I didn't mean to frighten you. What are you working on?"

"Nothing important," Moku replied, folding the papyrus up. He was wearing a shy smile. "Will you be needing our help to get dressed for dinner, Priest?"

Seth started to nod and stopped when he heard a knock on his door. Something in his gut clenched tight; the wards he had laced around his room vibrated in the back of his mind. He looked sharply at the children. "Quickly, hide in the bathing chambers," he commanded, already moving back to the door. He suspected that he knew who it was and if so Moku and Serenity would not want to be around for this. Only once he was certain that they were hidden did he open the door and look at the man who had come calling.

"Seth," Akhenaden said, not waiting for an invitation to enter the room. He swept his gaze around the room quickly, though Seth wasn't sure what he was searching for.

"What can I do for you, Father?" he asked warily. There was no need to worry about Akhenaden going into his private chambers – not even he would dare to do such a thing – but he kept watch anyway just to be sure. He wondered what the man wanted. The older Seth got the less time he spent with him and that was exactly the way both of them liked it. It wasn't as though Akhenaden had ever really been a father to him in anything other than name.

"I wished to make sure that you were coming to dinner," Akhenaden replied distractedly. It was evident that he had come with another purpose in mind and it was finally revealed when his eyes lit upon a stack of scrolls. With a triumphant exclamation he swept across the room and started to sort through them. Seth burned behind him, wanting nothing more than to tell the man to step away from his work, but he bit his tongue. Akhenaden was still the Head Priest and as such he had access to virtually anything in the castle; his wishes were below only the Pharaoh and the prince. Someday when Atemu was Pharaoh and Seth became the Head Priest he would have that power, but a large part of him hoped that Akhenaden would be dead long before that happened.

"Can I help you find something?" Seth asked finally, folding his arms in frustration. Akhenaden was coming closer to scrolls that he did not want anyone but Atemu to see, but if he was too obvious Akhenaden would continue the search based on that alone.

"No. Ah, here it is!" A gleam of victory lit the man's eyes as he clutched a scroll in his hand. "Do come to dinner, Seth. It won't be one that you'll want to miss." Without saying another word or giving Seth the opportunity to do so Akhenaden darted across the room and out into the hall, closing the door behind him with a resounding slam.

The sound alerted Moku and Serenity that it was safe to emerge. Serenity immediately knelt and began picking up the scrolls that had fallen to the floor, stacking them neatly on the desk. Moku began to help her, but he looked puzzled. "Was there a particular scroll that the High Priest was searching for?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure which one it was." Seth stepped closer and looked at the scrolls, trying to figure out which one was missing. At last he realized that the priest had taken a spell meant for immobility. While it was useful, particularly against intruders or dangerous animals, he had to wonder why Akhenaden would have taken that one. It was a low level spell that Seth had been taught when he was fairly young; he'd only kept the scroll around for the sake of sentimentality, not because he needed to reflect on them. He frowned down at the stack. What did Akhenaden need it for?

"Priest?" Serenity asked, and he turned to her with a startled look. "It is growing late."

"Oh, right." Atemu would never forgive him if he was late, not when the Pharaoh was in such a volatile mood. He backed away from the desk and went into his room to get ready, but his mind continued to work away at the problem he didn't have an answer for.

STGY

As night fell, Isis stood on her balcony and looked out over the palace garden. Dozens of exotic flowers, lovingly tended to by the servants in honor of the late Queen, were right below her window, giving her a view that not many people could say they had seen. Normally the view was enough to make her feel content, but lately she had been too trouble to enjoy it. Her lips pursed in thought as she gently touched the golden necklace strung around her throat. The Millennium Tawk vibrated beneath her fingers, pulsing in tune to the rhythm of her heartbeat.

She was worried about the two items that had been stolen. There was no foreseeable way to retrieve them, not unless Akefia was caught and the chances of that happening appeared to be slim. The Kingdom's best hunters had been unable to trap the man so far. Even without the help of the Shadow Realm he was like a shadow, appearing seemingly at whim wherever he wanted to be. It was only pure luck that they had even noticed the Millennium Items had been stolen. Well, it could be considered luck, she supposed, though the effect her visions had on her body didn't really make her feel all that fortunate.

Something bad was coming, Isis could tell, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. She felt different and had ever since she'd woken up one morning a few days past. The difference was not something that could be seen or even explained: it was as though a piece of her on the inside had flipped around so that it no longer meshed up correctly with the whole puzzle. It was a discomfiting sensation and she didn't know how to fix it. Perplexing, yes, and somewhat frightening, since she was certain that no one had cast a spell on her.

"What shall we do?" she murmured out loud, her voice barely audible. She prodded the Tawk a bit more firmly but it remained still, cold and quiet against her warm skin. She'd seen the vision of the Millennium Ring and the Millennium Rod being taken, but there were other aspects that puzzled her. The river of dark liquid and the drowning hand in the middle, and the four shining lights that had been so bright her eyes had ached, and the sight of the Millennium Puzzle, shattered into small pieces… what did it all mean?

"High Priestess?"

Isis didn't jump, because that wasn't what a High Priestess did, but she did turn quickly. "Yes, Téa?" she asked, hoping that her brief moment of being lost in thought hadn't been too obvious.

Téa smiled. "It's time for dinner," she said. "You'll be late if you don't hurry."

"That would truly be a fitting end to this week," Isis said wryly, a smile tugging at her lips. "Very well. I'll be right in. You can start getting ready. I believe I'll wear the blue tonight."

With a low bow, Téa turned and went back inside, leaving Isis alone on her balcony. She sighed to herself, caught by an oddly persistent feeling of something not quite right. She was alone a great deal, as befitted her status as the High Priestess, and Téa was one of her closest confidantes. And yet, for a moment she had felt like there should have been someone else on the balcony with them, someone she cared about a great deal. Isis frowned, bewildered, and shook it off as she went inside to get ready, knowing that she had more important things to worry about.


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