Satiah kept her eyes locked on Atem's back as they rode along the ridge and down toward the palace again. She found herself still haunted by the way he'd awoken her — with fear clouding his eyes and trembling in his grasp. What had he seen that would have made him clutch to her so urgently? She had been so certain that breaking him away from the Ring would put an end to the dark mysteries surrounding it. But there had been something in his eyes — some sinister reflection that told her the Item wasn't ready to let go of its former master just yet.

Soon, she, Atem and Mahad galloped back into the courtyard, quickly dismounting their steeds and passing them off to the waiting stablehands. As they made for the entrance to the palace, Iset suddenly emerged from the doorway, looking serious.

"What news, sister?" Mahad asked.

But Iset's eyes were on Satiah. "Your father was intercepted by the conclave on the road out of Set-Ma'at," she said gravely, "and he was in the presence of an unusual traveling companion — a former tomb keeper. The one from Seto's initiation."

"Heqab?" Satiah exclaimed. "But why?"

"Your father claimed the man may have information on the chamber we seek," Iset explained, gesturing for them to follow her. As they set off, she continued. "Unfortunately, Seto had them both thrown in the cells when they arrived."

Satiah gritted her teeth as they reached a spiral staircase, just now realizing that Iset was leading them to the dungeons. Her heart sank as they descended the stairs, thinking about what vitriol might have been exchanged between her father and Seto on the road back from Set-Ma'at.

At the bottom, they turned the corner toward the first cellblock — the one meant to hold petty thieves and common criminals. Immediately, Satiah broke away from the group. "Father!" she cried, peering into the shadowy cells as she passed.

"Satiah?" Her father's voice hissed out from a cell toward the end of the aisle. Satiah followed it, seeing him racing up to meet her at the bars. As she reached them, she folded her hands over his. "Oh, Satiah, thank the gods!"

She turned to the two guards standing at the entrance to the next cellblock. "Unlock this cell at once!"

The soldiers stood up at attention, then one — a fidgety young boy who couldn't have been a day over fifteen — quickly hurried over, removing a ring of keys from his belt. When the door was finally opened, Satiah burst in and flung herself into her father's arms. "Father!" she gasped, but as she pulled away, she felt a thorn of anger in her side. "How did this happen?"

Her father looked guilty. "I'm sorry, Sati, it's just… That haughty priest Seto—" He suddenly hushed up, and Satiah turned to see Iset, Mahad and Atem stepping into the torchlight. "My prince," her father said, bowing. "I deeply apologize for the manner of my arrival. I did not mean to offend—"

Atem held up his hand. "Iset says you have information regarding the chamber we seek."

Metjen's eyes grew wide. "Yes, of course!" he said, turning to the guard now. "The man I came with — Heqab — where is he?"

The guard hesitated, turning his eyes to Satiah instead. "You heard him!" she barked, and the boy quickly turned and receded back into the hall. Satiah and the rest followed, coming up to see Heqab emerging from the shadows of an adjacent cell, looking as though he'd seen a ghost.

"Princess?" he whispered. "Is that really you? So it is true! I couldn't believe it when Metjen told me you were his daughter!"

Satiah smiled. "It's good to see you again, Heqab. I hope my father hasn't caused you too much trouble."

Heqab chuckled as the door to his cell was unlocked. "I'm no worse for wear," he said, stepping further into the light. He started, however, upon setting his eyes on Atem and the Guardians standing behind her. "My prince!" he gasped, leaning into a steep bow. "I am humbled by your presence — and that of your advisors and wife. Thank you for coming to our aid."

Satiah could tell by the look in Atem's eye that his patience was winnowing. She turned to Heqab and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I hear you have some knowledge that may be of great importance to our king," she said curtly. "Is this true?"

Heqab straightened up. "Yes, Princess," he said. "Your father came to find me in Set-Ma'at, bearing with him the scroll telling of Amenhotep's downfall. With his help, I believe I've been able to pinpoint the location of the chamber the Pharaoh seeks."

"But the guards," her father cut in. "They confiscated our papyri when they seized us."

Satiah rounded on the poor soldier again. "Where are the documents you took from these men?"

The boy swallowed hard. "I, uh — I believe they were given to Guardian Seto, Princess."

...

It took all of Satiah's self-control not to bust down the doors of the war room upon reaching them. Instead, she pulled up to a stop and knocked respectfully on the heavy wood, then dropped back to join her husband and the rest of the attending group — her father and Heqab, as well as Iset and Mahad, who had since been joined by Shimon. She shot Atem a narrowed glare, and he returned it with one of similar anxiousness. Finally, a moment later, the doors were thrown back, revealing a very smug-looking Seto.

"Ah, Prince — Princess," he said bowing his head. "I see the prisoners have been released."

Satiah snapped. "How dare you throw my father in a cell like some kind of—"

She stopped when the Pharaoh moved into the light, looking grave. "I've had enough of these games," he said, causing even Seto to stand up straighter. "All of you. In here. Now."

Satiah crossed the threshold first, followed by Atem. The rest of the attendants filed in, with Metjen and Heqab entering last. The king moved to the head of the war table and sank into a chair, putting his head wearily to his hand. "Seto — do you care to explain why you arrested the father of the Princess?"

Seto shifted guiltily, then cleared his throat. "Well, you see, my king," he started, turning to face Metjen and Heqab. "I saw the former nomark arriving in Set-Ma'at this afternoon, looking somewhat…suspicious. So I followed him, and soon discovered he was visiting with this man — I believe you remember him from my initiation ceremony." He pointed to Heqab, who lowered his head. "They disappeared into a dark tunnel, and though I could not follow without being seen, I was worried they might be scheming against the crown. So I waited for them to emerge, and when I confronted them — I saw they were carrying these documents with them." Seto pointed at the surface of the table, whereupon sat the weathered scroll Satiah's father had first shown them at Karnak, along with two other large, half-rolled papyri. Carefully, Seto unrolled the topmost scroll, revealing, clear as day, a map of the Valley of the Kings. "As you can see, they had everything they needed to stage an attack upon my men."

Satiah scoffed. "Attack?!" she spat. "Both of these men have been stripped of their ka. What threat could they possibly pose to the most powerful spellcasters in Egypt?"

Seto looked taken aback. He opened his mouth to respond, but the king quickly cut him off.

"She's right, Seto," Aknamkanon said, surprising even Satiah. "You acted rashly. You should have given these men the chance to explain themselves before clasping them in chains."

Seto held out his hands in pleading. "But they — they are—"

"Criminals?" Satiah cut in.. "Have you forgotten they have already paid the debt for their past transgressions?" she continued. "Or is the king's law not sufficient punishment in your eyes?"

Again, Seto seized up, his eyes going wide.

Suddenly, Heqab stepped forward. "If I may, your highnesses…" he started, wringing his hands lightly. "I hold no grudges against Guardian Seto — nor any of the court. He was only doing his duty to protect his king and country — which is my own desire, as well. That is why I answered Metjen's call — and why I stand before you now, Great Pharaoh." The tomb keeper lowered his head meekly.

The king looked hard at his subject — this man whom he had once condemned to a sentence some would consider worse than death. Satiah was surprised to see a hint of guilt in his gaze, but he quickly shook it loose, turning his eyes down to the war table before him.

"This scroll," the king said, pointing at the one Satiah's father had unearthed. "It corroborates a vision my son had — about the emergence of Zorac. But I'm afraid I don't understand the meaning of these other documents. As far as I can see, they are just maps of the Valley."

Heqab moved forward, his head still bowed. "May I?"

The king nodded, sliding the other two papyri back across the table.

Heqab took them up, then extended one to Satiah's father. "Upon reading the scroll Metjen uncovered, I found myself intrigued by the last sentence — where it says that Ramesses was forced to seal the Tome beneath his own tomb. I found this particularly strange, as I have been custodian to the burial chambers along the southern ridge for nearly fifteen years, and I can say with confidence that there are no voids beneath the Great Pharaoh's tomb."

"As I suspected," Aknamkanon agreed.

"But—" Heqab held up his finger and turned, gesturing to Seto. "Guardian Seto, would you take the corner of that scroll, if you please?"

Seto sneered, but he turned to hold the other half of the scroll in Metjen's hands. Together, they unfurled it, revealing an intricate map of the Valley of the Kings. The flames from the fireplace shone through the fibers of the papyrus, bringing the details of the map into even sharper contrast.

"Ramesses' tomb is here, correct?" Heqab said, pointing to the southern corner of the map, where a spot along the raised ridge was marked with the Great King's cartouche. "Now, looking at this… Ah, Guardians, could you lend me your hands?" He gestured to Iset and Shimon, who came over and helped him unroll another scroll, this one with a second map, but one that Satiah didn't recognize. "Perfect, and stand here, if you please…" He positioned the pair so that the scroll they held fit perfectly against the one held by Metjen and Seto.

"This—" Heqab continued, "this is a map of Set-Ma'at and the surrounding area. It marks all of the different villages and sectors belonging to the tomb keepers. Now, if my calculations are correct… This area—" he pointed to a small dot that overlapped with the spot where he'd identified Ramesses' tomb on the other map, "—is directly below the Great Pharaoh's burial chamber." He paused and turned to the king, who was looking pensive with his hand drawn up beneath his chin. "It's on the other side of the ridge, yes. But from a geographical perspective, they align almost perfectly."

"But what is it?" the Pharaoh urged, leaning forward and squinting at the map.

"We believe," Metjen started, scanning the faces of the court, "it is the abandoned village of Kul Elna."

"The tomb robbers' lands?" Seto exclaimed, releasing his corner of the map, causing it to roll up again.

Metjen nodded. "The region has a tumultuous history. The tomb robbers only moved into the area after the earthquake that struck in the year of Pharaoh Aknamkanon's ascension. But do you remember who had been stewards of that land until that time?"

Seto's brow furrowed in revelation. "The cult of Ramesses."

"Indeed," Heqab confirmed. "A secretive and arcane sect of priests, whose sole purpose was to guard the Great Pharaoh's tombs and burial chambers. They lived in the village of Kul Elna for centuries, but the earthquake nearly wiped out their entire cult. After the land was deemed too dangerous for inhabitants to return, the tomb robbers swept in made it their home instead."

"But the thieves were driven out during the Nubian Invasion," Seto cut in again. "These lands have been empty for over a decade."

"Exactly," Heqab continued. "Yet another set of inhabitants gone in an instant, never to be seen again. No other area in the Valley has seen this much strife in the last century. That fact, combined with its proximity to Ramesses' tomb, makes it the perfect candidate to be concealing a lost chamber, wouldn't you think?"

Seto seemed to be wrestling with the logic, obviously still bitter his own search efforts in the region hadn't been as successful as Heqab's basic geography lesson. "But if there was a chamber that held the power of the gods sleeping beneath their feet, don't you think it would have been the first thing the tomb robbers found?"

Metjen made a low sound. "Perhaps they didn't have the means to access it," he said, then, looking grave, "or, someone else got there first."

"Or it doesn't exist at all." The Pharaoh stood, running his eyes along the scroll bearing the painting of Ramesses' and Amenhotep's confrontation. "All these details are conjecture at best, and outlandish at worst." He looked up, meeting eyes first with his son, then Heqab. "However, we cannot discount them until we have done our due diligence. Not while Bakura's threat still hangs over us all." He turned to Seto now. "Seto, you are to return to the Valley at once. Have your men pivot their search to Kul Elna."

Seto looked vexed, but after a moment, he nodded and turned to leave.

"And take Mahad with you this time," the king added, causing Seto to stop in his tracks. "I have a feeling the Millennium Ring has a part yet to play in our search."

Almost a full day passed without any news from the Valley, and Atem was beginning to lose hope in the search again. In truth, he'd only been half-convinced by the tomb keeper's story, but Satiah seemed inspired by the man's words, so Atem kept his doubts to himself. But now, as he wandered the dusky halls of the palace, going nowhere in particular, his apprehension was getting the better of him.

In his contemplation, Atem soon found himself wandering past the library, down toward an area of the palace he very rarely visited — the hall of Pharaohs. It was an enormous chamber — nearly as large as the throne room itself — where statues of every king in the last nine centuries stood in somber rows, glaring blanking through the shadows like bronze ghosts.

Upon passing the open doors, Atem at first had no intention of entering — just the sight of Ramesses' stony eyes looking at him from the second row was enough to spur him on his way. But as he peered deeper, he saw the familiar shape of his father, kneeling in the darkness several rows on. Intrigued, Atem felt himself called to his father's side, despite the multitude of judging, noble eyes following as he moved deeper into the hall.

Atem could not see the ruler before whom his father knelt, but he could only assume it was one of the many ascendents whose statues lined the back wall of the hall. As he drew nearer, however, he found his eyes met with fresh-cast bronze in a strikingly familiar shape — that of his brother, rising proud and kingly in the company of his ancestors.

Atem stopped and looked upon Tef's face, feeling the weight of his brother's unrealized reign come crashing down like a landslide. Even etched into the muted bronze, there was so much lost potential — so many possibilities left to smolder and slag and cinder into nothingness.

His father must have sensed his presence, as he soon rose and turned, his face flickering gauntly in the torchlight. A smile cut through the shadows drawn on his features, but Atem could not bring himself to be comforted by it. A moment later, his father turned back to Tef's statue, his shoulders rising with a deep breath.

"After he died, I promised myself I'd visit his tomb every week," he said. "Now look at me. Cowering in my palace, speaking to a mere effigy."

Atem did not reply, but he moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with his father and traced his eyes over the intricate details of the statue before them. It was a faithful replica — the person who had sculpted it had known Tef well. Atem was surprised to see, however, that his brother's chest was notably lacking the Millennium Ring.

"Until the day I die, I will regret that I was not brave enough to join him in the battle that claimed his life," his father continued, unbidden. "It should be my likeness standing here. Not his."

For a moment, Atem let his gaze flash to his father, and he almost expected there to be tears wetting his face. But there was nothing — his eyes were as vacant as the statue before them.

"I want to say that I have learned my lesson," he went on. "That I am ready to face what lies in the Valley. But the truth is, I am still afraid. There has been a shadow chasing me for many years — and I fear not even the light of the gods can cast it off." The king turned, but it was not until a hand fell upon Atem's shoulder that he could bring himself to meet his father's veiled eyes. "Do you understand why I am telling you this, my son?"

Slowly, Atem shook his head.

His father smiled again. "Fear is nothing to be ashamed of. And neither is regret." He straightened up and cast his eyes around the chamber. " Every king in this hall believed himself a god in his time. But I promise there is not a single one among them who was without flaw. What makes a man noble is not his successes — only how he responds to failure."

Suddenly, the king turned in a circle, looking hard at each of the statues surrounding him

"Do you hear that, brothers and sisters? Fathers and mothers?" he said loudly. "Yes, I am afraid. Yes, I regret. But I am more than my weaknesses. When next I am faced with darkness, I will not turn away. I will do as my bravely departed son would have done — I will act."

Atem felt tingles of dread and awe trickling down his spine as his father's voice permeated the chamber. He followed the echo as it bounced from Pharaoh to Pharaoh, and felt them cast their somber judgment in return.

"Come, my son," his father said, drawing Atem's attention back over his shoulder. "Do you have anything to confess to your kin?"

Atem swept his gaze back and forth across the room, meeting eyes with the greatest rulers of their nation — Ramesses and his countless children; Thutmose and his fearless wife Hatshepsut; even the line of Amenhotep, whose dynasty ended in disgrace — but he stopped only when he crossed his brother's statue again, feeling suddenly as small as grain of sand in the thrashing desert.

"I, too, wish it had been me that day," he said softly. "I do not know why fate has chosen this path for me, when it was your strength I relied on my whole life. You were my inspiration — everything I one day hoped to be. You asked for nothing from me but loyalty. And I failed you." His voice grew suddenly thin with sorrow and anger, and he choked back tears as his father wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"Good." Atem looked up through clouded eyes to see his father nodding firmly. "Now — tell them what you will do about it."

Slowly, Atem traced his way back through the eras of kings again, this time ready to weather their verdict. "I will not let destiny control me," he said, curling his hands into fists. "I will no longer walk in the shadows of my betters, but strive to forge my own path. I will make the difficult choices and fight the righteous battles."

He felt his father's hand gripping tight to his shoulder.

"And I will build a world where all men are empowered to do the same."

...

As Atem left the hall of Pharaohs, he felt the wisdom of a hundred kings leaving with him. But even with it surrounding him, cloaking him in an ethereal shield, he somehow felt lighter than ever. For weeks, he felt as though he'd been wandering in darkness, bidden onward by a future never meant for him. Now, he was ready to walk with purpose — knowing that anything he left behind would be of his own making.

This new instinct soon had him sweeping dauntlessly through the palace, stopping only to take in the fragrant breeze of nightfall from the windows he passed. The new moon had risen, and with it came a blanket of stars brighter than any he'd ever seen. They wove together in threads and clusters, decorating the blue-black canopy with raw and beautiful chaos. An hour ago, gazing into such disarray might have made him uneasy, but now it seemed to fill him with wonder — to think that there might be as many possibilities as there were stars in the sky.

Another moment more, and Atem found himself at the threshold of his bedchamber. There, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, his heart lifting further at the sight of his wife waiting for him. Satiah was sitting against the windowsill, her eyes surveying the same sky he'd been gazing into moments before. Now, she turned to him, and a peaceful smile came instantly to her lips. Atem was drawn to her like a moth to flame — a beacon in the moonless night.

Her eyes swept up and down him as he walked, studying his form curiously as if she could sense the change within him. When at last he came within arm's length, she met his gaze, and Atem saw all the heavens in her eyes — a million wheeling stars, pulling him deeper, closer, until his hand was tracing along her arm and rising to rest in the graceful curve of her neck. Atem felt a fire spark to life inside him to see that her smile remained, even as he slipped his hand further to cradle her head, holding it still for him to lower his lips and find hers. At this, her eyes fluttered closed, and the stars disappeared along with them. But the fire within him kept burning — kindling through his core and out to every extremity.

Satiah let her hands rise up to steady herself against his chest, and he knew from the way her lips chased him that this was meant to be — that she was not simply allowing herself to be kissed, but rather a willing participant in this overdue and long-avoided show of affection. It drove him to deepen it, threading his fingers into her hair and parting his lips to lash his tongue against hers. She followed his lead and more, tightening her hands around his tunic to pull him closer, sharply enough that he had to extend his free hand to steady himself against the windowsill behind her.

Satiah had just shifted her hands to wrap around his sides when a loud knock caused them to both suck in deep breaths and break away. Atem closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into hers, then, with venom, he barked, "Not now!"

Through fluttering lids he searched for her lips again, but another knock came and halted him in his tracks. Begrudgingly, he whipped his head over his shoulder.

"What is it?!" he called, his hand still loosely entangled in Satiah's hair.

With a loud creak, the door inched open, revealing Shimon's worried eyes, and Atem felt the flames of his heart instantly extinguished. "I'm very sorry, your highnesses," he whispered. "We just received word from Kul Elna… The chamber — it has been found."

AN: Ahh! Sorry for the delay in updating… But finally, the kiss! The moment you've all been waiting for… Right? RIGHT?! XD I feel so bad for cutting them short yet again. I'm very cruel to my characters like that. Well, anyway — hope you enjoyed! Pop by for a review if you did! See ya in the next chapter!