Chapter One – Shifting Sands
An ominous wind swept across the dunes as three figures knelt before a sputtering fire. They were clothed in rags, their movements furtive. The firelight picked out dirt-streaked faces – eyes hooded and sunken from years spent in the shadowy underworld of society. They were part of the Tuareg – the robber bands that haunt the middle Sahara. The chief among them unrolled a dirty sack onto the sand. A few coins, odd bits of jewellery, and a gold watch spilled out. These contents represented their meagre takings for the evening.
A ripple of excitement passed through them as the Leader began to divide the pathetic booty into lots. Their gabbling voices were barely audible above the rising wind. The smallest of the three grew impatient and pawed at the coins, only to have his hand slapped roughly away by the Leader.
The wind began to shriek as though from the very heart of the desert. Filthy robes billowed around them as camels shifted uneasily. The Leader raised his head warily and squinted at the dark horizon. Without warning, the sand erupted in front of him. Fire Eaters rose from the dunes – encircling the doomed thieves. The Leader watched in horror as the dark-robed figures, faces expressionless, eyes soulless and staring, advanced toward their fire. He turned to run, but fell in the shifting sand. The blade of a scimitar flashed, curved and shining overhead and the Leader was no more.
In quick succession, his companions fell victim to the Fire Eaters, executed not for thievery, but for trespassing. Unwittingly, the Tuareg had camped at the rim of a forbidden desert kingdom - the home of the Dark One. Unwittingly, they offended. Unknowingly, they brought the wrath of the Dark One's mindless warriors, the Fire Eaters, down on their heads - heads that were now separated from their bodies.
A Fire Eater walked among the strewn bodies, roughly searching bloodstained robes. From within the folds of the foul garment that had once been worn by the Leader, it withdrew a crumpled scrap of parchment. The Fire Eater waved it high over his head - a signal to depart. With sickening speed, the party of warriors mounted desert horses and whirled away - leaving the Tuareg and their imagined treasure for the shifting sands to bury.
Miles away, a world away, Arabella Figg took another swallow of coffee and continued her perusal of the Daily Prophet. Her brow furrowed at the headline "American Wizard Feared Lost in the Sudan." She skimmed the article then, lowering the paper, said quietly to her breakfast companion, Sirius Black, "Another one has disappeared." Sirius raised an eyebrow and said between bites of toast,
"Where?"
"In the Sudan, an American this time," Arabella answered.
"Ministry still declining comment?" Sirius asked. Arabella nodded, then read from the article,
"Villagers insist that this disappearance is yet another in a string of acts committed by the Dark One. When asked for her reaction, Julia Clift, Ministry Ambassador to Morocco, said only, 'We are looking into the matter.'"
Arabella looked down her long polished dining table at the dark haired young wizard engrossed in conversation with Harry and Hermione. She cleared her throat. "Jon?" He looked up quickly, meeting her gaze with a slightly uncomfortable expression.
"Clift is not a common last name. You're not by chance related to the 'Julia' mentioned here are you?" Arabella asked, tapping her copy of the Daily Prophet with a perfectly manicured finger. Jon looked at her steadily and said,
"As a matter of fact, I am. 'Julia Clift' is my sister, Jules." Jon found that his stomach had tightened slightly. He knew the wizarding world to be divided on the subject of the Ministry of Magic. The behaviour of Cornelius Fudge had polarized most of the wizarding population. People either held the Ministry in high esteem or considerable contempt. There didn't seem to be much middle ground. Jon was, from time to time, regarded suspiciously by those who had concerns about the ministry; through no fault of his own of course, but rather, by association (his father was an auror, and his sister an ambassador).
But Arabella put his mind at ease at once. "So then," she said with a smile, "Solaris is your father?" Jon nodded. "I have tremendous respect for your father, Jon. He is one of the reasons I still have hope for the Ministry of Magic." Relieved, Jon returned the smile, his stomach relaxing instantly.
Arabella laughed and shook her head. "How is it that after two weeks at Paravel, I am only just now learning about your family?" Slightly embarrassed at having not covered this ground with Arabella already, Hermione spoke on Jon's behalf,
"Well, you have kept us rather busy haven't you?" Arabella conceded the point and reflected on the past two weeks.
Harry and Hermione had returned to Paravel at the end of term two weeks ago, bringing with them two friends, Leslie Parsons and Jonathan Clift. Since the summer between their fourth and fifth years at Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione had been returning to Cornwall whenever possible – sometimes staying at Godric's Hollow with Sirius and Remus, at other times with her at Paravel. In their fifth year, Harry and Hermione had become prefects and developed lasting friendships with Jon and Leslie, who were at that time, Head Boy and Girl. The friendship continued even after Jon and Leslie left Hogwarts, facilitated no doubt by their common interests and unusual abilities. Like Harry and Hermione, Jon and Leslie were especially gifted with magic. Also like Harry and Hermione, they knew that special abilities and insights often carried with them great burdens.
It was for this reason, perhaps, that Harry and Hermione found it easier to be in Jon and Leslie's company than that of most other witches and wizards. Perhaps it was for the undeniable camaraderie that developed over drinks at the Three Broomsticks, or for the close kinship formed around the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room after long days of study. Perhaps it was for all these reasons that Leslie and Jon had become a permanent part of Harry and Hermione's lives.
Arabella had met them twice previously, but only briefly. Her fleeting impressions had been positive, so when Hermione asked if Jon and Leslie could visit Paravel, Arabella didn't hesitate to say, "Yes".
As usual, Arabella's insights proved correct. Jon had a quiet charm and obvious intellect that, combined with his open and engaging manner, made him a delight to be around. Leslie was compassionate and witty, seemingly interested in everything. She had listened with rapt attention on her first evening at Paravel as Arabella re-told the history of the manor and asked questions that were carefully considered and intelligent. "Wonderful young people" Arabella thought to herself, glad for the chance to know them better.
Their first two weeks at Paravel had passed in a happy blur of riding, swimming, picnicking and exploring the Cornish coast. Harry had toured them through Godric's Hollow with pride, and Hermione had introduced them to the elusive Clio on their first afternoon at the beach. Sirius and Remus devised a variety of wizard tasks designed to hone the skills of the not only of the apprentice sorcerer and sorceress (Harry and Hermione), but of Jon, the auror-in- training, as well. It was during one of these sessions that Remus noticed with curiosity a certain intensity of power in Jon that he often struggled to control. Neither did it escape his notice that when aided by Leslie (either directly or indirectly) Jon's powers seemed to be not only completely controlled, but amplified as well.
Remus was considering their unusual relationship when Sirius interrupted his thoughts,
"What do you think of all these disappearances?" Remus hesitated before answering, then said slowly,
"That they remind me of the disappearances that marked Voldemort's arrival." An uncomfortable ripple passed around the table.
"But surely you're not suggesting…" Arabella began. Remus held up a hand,
"No, I'm not saying Voldemort's returned. I'm just thinking that Voldemort isn't the only dark wizard that ever aspired to power."
"The same thought occurred to me," said Sirius, in agreement. Then turning to Jon, he said, "Has your sister mentioned anything to you? Do they have any theories?" Jon considered for a moment before speaking, choosing his words carefully.
"I think it's safe to say that at least some parts of the Ministry think it possible that one wizard, a dark wizard, might be responsible for these disappearances. There have been twelve disappearances in all, although that number isn't widely known." Turning to Harry and Hermione, Jon continued. "Do you remember Alias Swift – the Unspeakable who was sent to Hogwarts to deal with the vampire?" Harry nodded.
"Of course," Hermione said, "I'll never forget him leading Lucius Malfoy away in cuffs. What about him?"
"According to Jules, he's being sent to North Africa to find out who this 'Dark One' really is. Apparently, the Ministry feels that the local wizarding governments aren't organized enough to deal with the threat he may pose, not just in the Sudan, but across the entire Sahara." Silence hung over the table as this revelation sunk in, eventually broken by Hermione.
"That sounds ominous. If the Ministry of Magic is actually willing to dispatch Unspeakables, then someone in power must believe that this 'Dark One' is a force to be reckoned with." Hermione turned to Leslie, "And you still intend to go out there?" Leslie looked around the table at surprised faces, then answered,
"Yes, this is the chance of a lifetime. I'd be crazy to pass it up." She said quietly, careful not to look at Jon.
"What is?" asked Arabella, interested.
"I'm studying ancient magical artefacts and archaeology at University. I've been awarded a fellowship that will allow me to go on a dig later this summer with a prestigious faculty member – Brad Danner. My thesis work closely parallels his research, but none of it can be substantiated with out some first-hand work on site – in the field so to speak." Leslie was trying to keep the enthusiasm in her voice to a minimum, but her eyes sparkled as she spoke.
"The Brad Danner?" Remus asked. "He's something of a legend among scholars isn't he? Always bringing back treasures from some far-flung corner of the globe? Museums must love him." Leslie nodded.
"That's the one," she said quietly.
"I've read about him," said Arabella. "Doesn't he have a reputation for being reckless?" Leslie grinned.
"In his younger days, he was known for taking risks, but I think he's settled down a bit over the last five years or so." Leslie replied, hoping she was right.
"And what Holy Grail of the wizarding world is he searching for this time?" Sirius asked, amused. Leslie hesitated, knowing they would find her answer difficult to believe,
"The Cadeau Du Soleil" she said quietly.
"The what?" Harry asked in surprise. Leslie smiled.
"The Cadeau Du Soleil – the companion pieces to the Cadeau Du Mer." Looking around the table, she saw stunned expressions.
"There are companion pieces?" said Hermione in awe.
"Hard to believe, I know," said Leslie, "But according to legend, a sorcerer simultaneously created not one, but two sets of magical objects. One set, 'the gifts from the sea' resided in a temple in Atlantis until it was given to a noble and powerful wizarding family – your family" Leslie said, looking at Remus and Arabella. "The other set, the gifts of the sun, resided in an ancient temple in Heliopolis, the city of the sun. Scholars believe that the first to wear the Cadeau Du Soleil were the Prophet of the Phoenix, who resided in the temple, and his wife. After their deaths, the fate of the Cadeau Du Soleil became unclear. Professor Danner thinks that by resurrecting the temple at Heliopolis, he may discover the whereabouts of the Cadeau Du Soleil."
"But I thought Heliopolis was a myth, not a real place…" Hermione said.
"Oh it's real alright, every bit as real as Atlantis" said Leslie with a grin, "and I intend to find it."
"By all means, send us a postcard when you do." Jon said, a little stiffly. Leslie bit her lip, and looked away. Unaware of the slight coolness that passed between Leslie and Jon, Harry asked,
"Are the Cadeau Du Soleil's powers identical to those of the Cadeau Du Mer's?"
"No one is entirely sure, although I suspect that because they were first worn by a prophet, they may give the wearer's the gift of sight." Leslie replied. "Later, if you like, you're welcome to go through my notes. You might be interested in some of the sketches Professor Danner has collected over the years of the Cadeau Du Soleil. Apparently it's very similar in appearance to the Cadeau Du Mer, except that the center stone is some sort of fiery amber."
Hermione was impressed. "I'd love to see them. Maybe after lunch?" Leslie nodded, happy to share what was rapidly becoming her obsession with Hermione.
"But now, how about that swim you've been promising me?" Harry asked Hermione with a grin.
Breakfast was over. Harry, Hermione, Leslie, and Jon climbed the stairs to the guest wing to don bathing suites and shorts while Arabella oversaw Hopkins' preparation of luncheon baskets.
Leslie was the first of the party to finish changing and she waited for the others on the large terrace at the rear of Paravel overlooking a sloping lawn and the path to the beach. She leaned on the railing, her hair ruffled in the mid-morning breeze. She was thinking of Jon – of his objections to her plans to go to the desert with Professor Danner.
"You're determined to do this, aren't you?" said a voice behind her. It was Jon. He saw her shoulders stiffen slightly.
"Yes" she said quietly. "We've been all through this. I know it's risky, but it is the nature of my work. Archaeology can't be done in a library. It has to be done in the field. Besides, you take risks everyday, without even leaving England. You're training to be an auror - a profession a thousand times more deadly than that of a scholar." Her voice softened slightly. "Jon, you know how I feel about you. Do you think I want to be separated from you? You know I don't. But it's just for a few months and when it's over, I'll have enough data to finish my thesis. Can't you see how important it is to me?" she asked, her eyes over bright.
"Leslie, it's not your profession I object to." Jon ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "It's your timing and…" he added reluctantly, "your choice of colleagues. Do you really want to wander off into the desert right now – with everything that's going on? And do you really have confidence in Danner's abilities? Do you really think he can keep you safe?"
"I'm not entirely useless you know. I do actually have a wand of my own," she said with a wry smile.
"Why won't you take this seriously?" Jon said tensely.
"Maybe if I were as fully informed as you are, I would." she said, with a steely note in her voice. "I know you're not telling me everything, Jon. What has Jules told you that you're not telling me?" He looked away, for she was right. Jules had indeed confided in him, had told him terrible things – things he never intended to share, but now, it seemed necessary.
"The Dark One is truly depraved, Leslie." he said urgently. "He kills indiscriminately and savagely. He and his warriors have struck in villages and outposts all over the Sahara without being caught. And it's not just that. The witches and wizards that have disappeared were all highly gifted, highly qualified people. They weren't selected at random - they all fit a similar profile." Leslie was stunned.
"What are you saying?" she asked, clearly taken aback.
"I'm saying that the Dark One has a dark purpose - a larger plan. Clearly, his aims extend far beyond a few isolated attacks on remote desert villages. And," Jon said desperately, "You fit the profile of the abducted perfectly." He clenched his fists tightly. "I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you." And suddenly, the tension between them evaporated. She was in his arms in a moment, hugging him tightly.
"I'm sorry, Jon", she whispered into the soft cotton of his shirt. "I had no idea the situation was so extreme."
"I should have told you before now" he said in a low voice, 'but Jules swore me to secrecy." He sighed thinking how much easier thinks might have been if she hadn't. Jon cupped Leslie's face in his hands, searching her eyes, looking for an answer in her face. After a moment he said, "You still want to go. Don't you." It wasn't really a question. Before Leslie could answer, Jon said quickly. "Of course you do. This means the world to you, doesn't it?" Leslie nodded mutely. Jon took a deep breath, a breath of acceptance and understanding. "Well then," he said, "I'm going with you." Leslie looked at him in wonder.
"Going with me?" she said, weakly.
"I've already talked to Jules" Jon said firmly, "I can continue my auror training from the embassy in Morocco. It's all arranged."
"You knew I'd go, all along, didn't you?" Leslie said quietly.
"I knew that I had to try to talk you out of it, but yes, in the end, I was pretty sure you'd go. You are, after all, nothing if not determined." Jon smiled down at her.
"But Jon," she began, "you'll be miserable. A dig-site is usually hot and dirty; and we'll be working in areas known to be infested with scorpions."
"I don't care." Jon smiled. "I'd be more miserable at the thought of you out there somewhere with only Professor Danner to keep the wolves at bay."
"So then," she said looking up at him with a grin, "I'm to think of you as an armed escort?"
"Not exactly" Jon whispered, "more like a body guard".
"I like the sound of that." Leslie said, a slow smile spreading across her face.
"So do I!" Hermione added from the French doors leading out onto the terrace. Leslie and Jon turned to see Hermione walking toward them. "Didn't mean to eavesdrop", she said, "but I couldn't help but overhear your last remark, Jon."
"No problem" said Jon, with an easy smile.
"I'm relieved you'll be going with her. Frankly, after what you told us at lunch, I'd have been anxious for the rest of the summer. And besides," Hermione added with a mischievous grin, looking at Leslie, "Can you imagine a nicer body guard?"