A/N: Starting from here, the mysteries will slowly be revealed…

Oh, and in answer to a few questions: they can't use the Millennium Ring to find the alethiometer, because the Ring is sensitive to shadow energy, and can only detect the presence of Millennium Items, and only if they are reasonably near. Also, in answer as to why Bakura is able to hold Pantalaimon: (I wrote this in my draft but forgot to type it up) yamis and daemons have similarities, both being separate souls from their people. In His Dark Materials, daemons were allowed to touch each other, but not be touched by humans. Therefore it seemed fairly logical to me to assume that the yamis and daemons can freely touch each other.

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything. Not Yu-gi-oh, not , not even Ryou Bakura. wistful sigh that conquest is still to come…one day.

Chapter Sixteen: Hidden Talent

Yugi reached out and chose a stick. "Long." He giggled at Malik's horrified face.

"No! I can't possible stay awake all night! I need my sleep!"

Laughing gleefully, Yugi slipped into his sleeping bag. "God, I'm tired. I think I'll go to sleep now. Good night!"

He made a few obviously fake snoring noises, and Malik let out a strangled sound. "I'll get back at you tomorrow, you…you…"

Will sighed and shook his head.

……………..

Yami Malik fidgeted in the bed within his soul room, trying to get to sleep. He wasn't tired, having managed a few hours of precious, albeit fitful, sleep the previous night, but sleep had the advantage that it was usually painless. And he was fed up with pain. It was like a mouse gnawing at his consciousness, producing a dull ache that peaked to almost blinding levels of agony. Like the other yamis he had thrown up blood at various times during the day, and his soul room was stank of blood and vomit. But unlike the other two spirits, he wouldn't have welcomed sympathy from his lighter half even if it had been offered. And it certainly hadn't.

Malik was pretty aware of how his yami had been feeling, having caught little echoes of his pain throughout the day. He wondered occasionally if he cared; whether he was so callous and cold-hearted that he could watch a part of himself dying and feel no remorse whatsoever. Then he would remember all the things his yami had done to make them hate each other in the first place, and decided that he didn't care after all. He could also now hear what little thoughts his other half had, for all the good it would do – his yami had given up on using mental barriers to make sure Malik didn't know what he was thinking, preferring to save his strength for more vital things such as living. Not that Yami Malik had had many thoughts during the past few hours. He had simply sat on the bed inside his soul room in a catatonic state, thinking and seeing nothing. (There wasn't much to think or see anyway.) He would emerge from his mental cloud every hour or so to throw up, doing so quietly and unnoticeably, and then sit back down and sink back into his stupor. At first the vomit was deposited in neat piles in the corner, as far away from himself as possible, but as it grew worse he would simply lean over the side, and so the stink around his bed grew. It nauseated him, but he didn't have the strength to do anything about it.

(Still feel like shit?) Malik didn't particularly enjoy talking to his other half, but he wasn't in the mood for communicating with Will.

((Yes.)) What do you mean, 'still' feeling like shit? Did you think it was going to get any better? ((And excuse me while I have a heart attack. I didn't know you cared.))

(Don't flatter yourself,) Malik shot back. (I don't give a damn about what happens to you. In fact, I'm glad you're going to die.)

((Oh I know, don't worry,)) his yami murmured. ((You're just such a nice, caring person that I wouldn't expect anything less.)) Abandoning any last attempts at sleep, he pulled himself upright and sat on the bed. ((I bet the Pharaoh had a fit when he found out you were a lighter half.))

(I won't be one for much longer,) Malik answered defiantly.

((Yes, yes, I know. I suppose you think you're going to have a 'normal' life once I'm gone?))

Malik didn't say anything. The remark was too near his own thoughts to be comfortable.

((Thought as much.)) The spirit gave a low laugh. ((I know you like to think that I've fucked up your life for you. But face it hikari: stealing God cards, trying to kill the Pharaoh, running away from home…you did a pretty good job of it on your own.))

Malik clenched his fists. (Shut up.)

((Light, if I had a piastre for every time you said that, I would buy a decent broom and tidy up the shit lying around in my soul room. Maybe you could even do it for me. Seeing as you're so obsessed with cleaning and everything.))

Malik looked uncertainly at his yami's soul room door. (I hope when you used the term 'shit' it was as an adjective and not literally.)

((Obviously.)) Yami Malik's face appeared behind the bars. Then he stood aside so his hikari could see into his soul room. ((Its called 'blood,' hikari. I've been chucking the stuff up for the last couple of days, remember?))

(Yes, I'm aware of that,) Malik answered coldly. (Do you want sympathy from me? Because if so you aren't going to get it.)

His yami laughed mirthlessly. ((You don't need to tell me that, weakling. Save your fucking sympathy for the Tomb Robber. There's been so much blood around today he'll probably get stomach ache trying to drink it all.))

(Very funny,) Malik snapped.

((Yes, I know.)) The spirit moved to the right of the door, where his other half couldn't see him. Malik felt him retch, and a second later there was a splattering sound. His yami reappeared a moment later as if nothing had happened.

((What? You've made it clear you don't care. Stop looking at me.))

Malik had felt a slight twinge at the way his yami had gone out of his line of sight before throwing up. The three yamis still had their pride, that miserable thing that stayed when everything else was gone, and he'd never seen Bakura or the Pharaoh actually being sick. They'd always gone off into the trees before doing it, and if questioned would deny anything had happened. Anything even vaguely resembling sympathy was repelled as if poisonous, and Malik felt another twinge as he'd realised he and Bakura had exchanged barely a sentence since the day had begun. Their friendship was suffering as a consequence; this intolerance of the foreign world was affecting only Bakura, and there was no way Malik could alleviate or even share his pain, as he had done so many times before. It was as if Bakura was determined to be alone, and only alone, with his pain.

Well, maybe not quite alone. Once or twice Malik had seen the Ring-spirit with Lyra's daemon on his knees or in his arms, talking quietly to him. The sight was enough to make him boil inside, and although he couldn't really explain why he felt angry with Bakura for doing it. More than that – furious. Malik didn't think of himself as a particularly jealous or possessive person, but in the old days – it made him feel uneasy as he realised how anything that had happened in his old world inevitably became thought of as 'the old days' – it was always to him that Bakura had gone to, and the two of them had always shared feelings and problems. Now it was as if Bakura was deliberately leaving him out of this. Well, maybe not deliberately, but the possibility that he didn't even realise how he was making Malik feel made the Egyptian even more frustrated. He knew many people didn't approve of their friendship; the Pharaoh in particular considering them to be bad influences on each other, particularly Bakura on Malik. But they were genuinely close, and when the two of them weren't busy plotting to kill the Pharaoh or open the gates of darkness, there would be many times when they just sat and talked to each other about what was on their minds. The thought that they would slowly drift away from each other, and then Bakura dying, was becoming a bigger and bigger worry in Malik's mind.

(Fine, I won't look at you. Happy now?) Malik knew how childish he sounded, but his mind was too taken up with thoughts of Bakura to care.

His yami simply shrugged and, turning, sat back down on the bed. Sensing the conversation was over, Malik physically opened his eyes.

"Oooh! Stop it!" Will was laughing as Kirjava poked his armpits with her badger whiskers. "That tickles!"

Malik shrugged inwardly as he watched the black-haired boy and his daemon romp around. Will removed Kirjava from his arm with some difficulty, and she immediately wrapped herself around his neck as a polecat. It was like wearing a furry scarf, the Knife-holder mused.

Something prompted him to look up, and he saw Malik observing their antics with a strange look in his eyes, almost of indulgent amusement. Will felt embarrassed for a split second, then defensive. Why the hell should I feel embarrassed? Their eyes met, brown versus violet, and he didn't say anything.

Malik slowly reached into his pocket and took out the Rod. He lay it on the ground between them, the Item giving out a gentle golden flow so they could see each other properly.

"I…I just want to say I'm sorry. For stealing the knife. And for all the other things I've done."

Will was flooded with shock. He simply sat there, unsure what to say. Then, after the silence grew a bit too long, Kirjava nipped his finger smartly, bringing him back to reality.

"Ow!" He pushed his daemon away. To Malik: "Um, its okay."

Their eyes met again, and they both gave somewhat sheepish grins. Malik shuffled a bit closer, closing the gap from about two metres to a more comfortable fifty centimetres. The moon was still full, although on its way to waning, and resembled a shiny new coin, fresh out of the mint. It bathed everything in its pallid gleam. It was easy enough to see objects immediately surrounding you, largely thanks to the Millennium Rod, but any further away and everything became dark and indistinct. The time was half past eleven.

……………

It's amazing how that first smile can ease the tension between two people. After a few hesitations and a few more embarrassed sideways glances, they were chatting like re-united lost friends. A passing spectator wouldn't have believed that ten minutes ago they had been barely on nodding terms.

"Have you got any tea? I've a feeling we'll be needing a lot of it tonight."

"Yes, plenty." There was a silence while they sipped their drinks, then Will said cautiously, "Could I ask you a question?"

"I think you just have. But feel free to ask another."

"…Okay. Two, actually. Um, firstly, how the hell did you manage to use the subtle knife back in the World of the Dead? Its not supposed to work for anyone except me."

Malik considered the question. "I…don't know. Really," he added, as his companion looked disbelieving. "I…um, well when Bakura and I stole the knife, he tried to use it to open another world and couldn't. So I had a go, and…uh…I did it. I just sort of pretended I was using my Millennium Rod instead, and let my soul flow into it. I tried to use it like it was a part of me. And it worked. I still don't know why."

"Oh," Will said eventually. "…Um, secondly…" He paused, trying to decide how to phrase the question. "What country are you all from?" he burst out at last. "Because I keep trying to work it out, and I can't! You all speak English, but half the time you natter away to each other in something completely different, Chinese or something, and also the yamis sometimes use another language, and I have no idea what it is!"

Malik blinked at the outburst, fighting the temptation to laugh. "That's what you've wanted to know? All this time?"

"Well yes, among other things like what Millennium Items actually are and what this stupid Shadow Realm is that Bakura keeps threatening to send me to."

Malik gave in, making a semi-suppressed snorting sound that could just about pass for laughter. Seeing the insulted look on Will's face, he hastily stopped. "Sorry. It just seems so funny, that's all. Not that I can really laugh. I've wanted to know a few things too, actually. Like what this mysterious 'Dust' is."

"What the-where did you hear about Dust?" Will demanded.

Malik raised and lowered a shoulder. "Heard Lyra and Pan talking about it. They wouldn't tell me anything, though. It was near the beginning, when we'd only just met you. I kind of forgot about it."

Will thought for a moment. "How about you answer my questions, and then I explain to you about Dust?"

"Sure." Malik took another sip of tea. "Okay, first the nationalities. Yugi's easy – he's Japanese. But at his school he takes English as his second language, and has done for about six years, which explains why he's so good at it."

"Japanese!" Will exclaimed. Malik raised an eyebrow, and the black-haired boy said hastily, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. It's just that I never thought of that. Wow, I can't believe he's from Japan. I mean, it's a really interesting sounding country. I've always wanted to go there."

Malik shrugged. "It's not bad. Anyway, Ryou's half Japanese and half English. I think he got the English side from his mother, actually. But he's always been bilingual."

"Is it because he's Japanese that he's so pale?" Will asked curiously. "I thought Japanese people had black hair though. Speaking of which, where did he get his hair? I've never seen anything like it."

Malik smiled. "It is…different, isn't it? I like it though. More interesting. But he's kind of embarrassed about it. It IS natural, by the way. And you won't believe me when I say Yugi's is as well."

"No, I won't," Will said definitely. "Did he dye it? Red, black AND blond?"

"Nope. Completely natural." Malik grinned. "I sometimes find my own hair quite dull by comparison. Although everyone else finds it far stranger than Ryou's or even Yugi's. Everyone thinks I should have black hair, especially seeing as everyone else in my family does. No, wait, I think my father had blond hair." For a moment a shadow crossed his face. Then he continued, "Having dark skin doesn't help either. Some people even tell me I should dye it black, just to fit in. But I won't. I sort of like my hair. And I don't fit in anyway, so changing my hair colour won't help."

It was the first time Malik had hinted at dark events in his past, and Will pondered on this for a moment, before saying, "I'm guessing you're not from Japan, judging from the fact that you're so dark."

"Me? Japanese?" Malik seemed to find the idea amusing. "Certainly not. I was born in Egypt."

"Cool."

The blond teenager smiled, revealing even white teeth. "And that means I can speak Arabic, (which is my first language), Japanese, from being taught by my tutor, and English, at my sister's insistence. So I get by in most countries."

"Arabic," Will repeated slowly. "So is that what the yamis speak then? Why?"

"They speak any language their lighter halves do as well. But Bakura and Yugi's yami know Arabic because in their last incarnations they lived in Egypt." Malik had carefully steered clear of mentioning his own yami. "Ancient Egypt, by the way. Not in my time. About three thousand years ago. And Bakura was a tomb robber and Yugi's yami was a pharaoh, in case you haven't already gathered."

Will nodded. "That's why they don't like each other much, right? A tomb robber and a pharaoh don't sound like the sort of people who would get on."

"Yes, that's partly why. But also because they have…different ideas on how lighter halves should be treated. Or at least they did have. I guess Bakura cares about Ryou now. Though not in that way."

"Okay." Will poured himself another cup of tea. "Now, what exactly is the Shadow Realm?"

Malik groaned. "Trust you to pick the harder question. I'd rather try and explain exactly who Ra is then tell you all about the Shadow Realm. Although I'll try." He took a deep breath. "Well-"

Suddenly they were pitched into darkness. The Millennium Rod had abruptly stopped giving out light, and as for the moon- Will craned his neck skywards and hissed between his teeth as he saw it was suffocated by thick purple smoke. "Jesus Christ," he breathed.

There was the distant sound of approaching footsteps, and his whole body turned cold.

"Malik?" he whispered.

There were scrabbling noises, and then a faint glow appeared from the Millennium Rod as it was snatched up by a dark hand. A second later Malik's face loomed out of the darkness next to him, purple eyes wide.

"Ra save us…" he whispered.

"I don't think he will," Will told him, uncertain as to whether he was being serious or not. "Do you know what-"

His words died in his throat as a blinding white light flooded the field. Both teenagers instinctively threw up an arm to protect their eyes, the brilliantly intense flash leaving red lights dancing in their vision. When they lowered their arms, several moments later, it was to find a figure standing in front of them. On seeing who it was, Will let out a terrified yelp, and Malik shrieked a torrent of hysterical sounding Arabic phrases.

The two teenagers shook awake the rest of their group, eyes never leaving that figure.

"Wake up, damn you!" Malik screamed, shaking Yugi so hard the teenager woke up thinking he'd been attacked.

"Wha-Malik?"

"Get up! Help me wake up the others!" He was still speaking in Arabic, but didn't seem to realise. Fortunately Yami was also awake, and quickly translated. Yugi shot upright.

Will reflected briefly that in moments of great distress or shock, people in foreign countries often reverted to their native language, as the Egyptian was doing now. He roused Lyra, and Kirjava was tugging at Pantalaimon wrapped around her neck.

As one, the group huddled together and edged slowly backwards.

A white haired adolescent was slouched against a tree just in front of them. His eyes glowed blood-red and he was smiling eerily, purple-black flames flickering casually around his outline. The Millennium Ring hung dully around his neck; and as he pushed himself away from the tree and walked towards them, a slinking, ominous walk like a wolf stalking its prey; a nonchalant backwards flick of his fingers caused the tree to crackle and burst into flames.

A shuddering burst of shadow energy broke the spell, as the group dodged it. The figure threw back his head and laughed, a grating sound like nails on glass. "Scare easily, don't you? Fools. I could have killed you all in your sleep a thousand times by now." His voice was somewhere between Bakura's and Yami Malik's, an uneasy mix of the two.

Behind them, the Maneater Bug was wrecking devastation on their camp. Obeying a wordless command from its master, it suddenly stopped what it was doing and scuttled greedily towards the teenagers, acid dripping corrosively from its jaws.

"Bakura's gone crazy…" Yugi wailed. Like the others, he was stepping back in an attempt to get away from the hungry Duel Monster.

"Ahou!" Malik hissed. His violet eyes were focused not on the Maneater Bug, but on it's master. "It can't be Bakura. He's spent the whole day throwing up; he couldn't possible have the strength to do this. Which means it must be…"

"No way," Yugi said disbelievingly. "…And who are you calling a fool anyway?"

"Will you two stop arguing and find a way to get rid of that thing?" Will demanded. He eyed the Duel Monster nervously as it closed in on them.

"It only has 450 attack points," Yugi informed anyone who was listening. "That's really weak. Ryou has far stronger monsters than that in his deck."

"Oh I'm so sorry for making such a fuss then," Malik said sarcastically. "Why don't you ask him to bring out a stronger one so we can all die a bit quicker?"

Ryou snickered. "Well if that's what you want then I'll be happy to comply." He reached into his pocket. Seconds later Headless Knight and Earl of Demise appeared in a whirl of purple smoke, the former welding a heavy and very capable-looking axe.

"Kill them all. Make it slow."

"This just gets better and better," Will said conversationally. "Is he always like this at home?"

"Could you stop the wisecracks already?" Malik snapped. "I don't know if you've realised this or not but these thing aren't holograms, they're real. And more than capable of tearing us apart!"

"…Oh."

"He's sleep-walking," Lyra said suddenly.

Three pairs of eyes slowly turned and stared at her. "What?" Will asked.

"He's sleep-walking. I don't know why I didn't see it before. He's probably dreaming right at this very moment. And he almost certainly doesn't know what he's doing."

"Well that makes everything so much better," Yugi said happily. The other three glared exasperatedly at him.

"So what does this mean?" Malik asked slowly. ""What do we do with him? Can we wake him up? And how the hell did he manage to do all this stuff anyway? Being asleep doesn't explain that."

The Puzzle around Yugi's neck glowed, and he grew taller. "Waking up people who are sleepwalking isn't supposed to be a good idea. And you know, you do have a little thing called a Millennium Rod in your pocket which is supposed to read and control minds. Hasn't it occurred to you to use that yet?"

Malik blinked. "…Ah, yes, well, you see I was just coming to that-"

"Shut up already and use it then," the Pharaoh said tersely.

"I am, I am." Malik hastily tugged his Item out of his pocket and pointed it at Ryou. Ryou, I have no idea what you're on, but I want you to stop. Right now.

They all waited.

Ryou merely laughed, and gestured at the three Duel Monsters. They moved smoothly into a triangle, surrounding the group.

"Why…why didn't it work?" Will whispered.

"I don't know…"

Yami made an impatient noise. "For Ra's sake, do I have to do everything?" He pulled his deck out. "I summon Dark Magician!"

The monster appeared, and gave them all a comforting smile before slicing the Maneater Bug in half. It vanished in a shower of sparks.

As if knowing they weren't strong enough to win, the other two monsters cringed and spread outwards, backing away. The magician ran after them, sword held high, and moments later they too were vanquished. It then turned towards Ryou, but hesitated, sword faltering. Ryou surveyed it coolly, before shaking his head very slightly. At once the Dark Magician dropped to the ground and bowed before him, then Ryou held out a blank card and the monster vanished. He looked up, and grinned fiendishly.

Yami's jaw dropped open. "What the…he just stole my Dark Magician!"

Ryou grinned again and waved the card infuriatingly. It now had an image of Yami's monster on the front. The spirit made a strangled sound as Ryou carefully shuffled the card into his Occult deck. He then looked up, and his expression became more thoughtful. His eyes roved over the group for a moment, and a smile stretched over his face as black smoke surrounded them.

………….

It only took their eyes a few seconds to adjust to their new surroundings, at which point Yami and Malik simultaneously uttered the word, "Damn!"

"Where are we?" Will enquired.

"This," Malik indicated their environment with a vague sweep of his arm, "is the famous Shadow Realm I was going to tell you about."

"And what exactly is it?"

"Exactly? Well, the truth is that no one knows. But it isn't a good place to be. Duel Monsters are rumoured to have come from here, although I don't know whether that's true or not." He looked up and saw Ryou was standing in front of them. "Oh Ra, not you again."

The Ring-bearer gave a demented snicker, wreaths of shadow-fire caressing his body. His crimson eyes closed momentarily and a duelling arena rose up from the smoke, of which great billows were rolling around their feet. It gave the impression they were standing in a cloud, albeit a purple one, and the fog hovering sluggishly in the air clouded their line of vision, making it hard to see clearly. Despite this, the violet mist wrapped around the arena marked out the boundaries of their prison all too clearly. It was in the shape of a rectangle, with the duelling area taking up most of the space and just enough room at the edges to walk around it.

"Now he wants to duel?" Yami said in disbelief.

Ryou gave an indulgent smile, and made a tearing gesture with his hands. As soon as he had done this Yugi appeared, and the rest of the group could tell from the look on his face that the splitting off hadn't been voluntary.

"He-he made me split off! How did he do that?"

Shrugs answered this remark.

Lights suddenly crackled into life above them, showing their lifepoints: Ryou: 4000 Yugi: 4000 Malik: 4000. The digits glowed crimson, and the ooze-like quality of their surface gave the numbers the appearance of dripping blood.

"Why does he want to duel?" Lyra asked in confusion. "He could duel any of you whenever he wants. Why go to all of this trouble just to duel you?"

Malik stared at Ryou, and the teenager gave an unsettling smile. "Are you sure that's all I want from you?" He ran a finger lightly over his throat.

………………

A/N: There were a lot more mysteries and a lot less explaining here than I planned…oh well. I promise everything gets cleared up, one way or another, in the next chapter. It definitely won't be a straight-forward duel. Tell me what you thought of this chapter, anyway. Think of this as a murder mystery: you now have the what, and next chapter you get the how, and the why.