Satiah kept her eyes locked on Atem's back as they rode along the ridge and down toward the palace again. She felt almost as if she were moving through a dream — a blissful one, where warmth was ever-present, and where there was nothing to fear from the vulnerable feelings circling in her heart. But the closer they drew to their destination, the more she was dragged away from this sanctuary, until all she could do was pity herself. How foolish it was to think she deserved to explore such affections when peril loomed so near on the horizon.

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, Isis emerged from the doorway, her features drawn tight with unease.

"What news, sister?" Mahad asked.

But Isis'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," Isis 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 Isis was leading them to the dungeons. Her heart thrummed 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. As they entered, Satiah spotted her father's shaded form sitting in the corner of the first cell. "Father!"

"Satiah?" He roused and stood, racing to meet her, grasping the bars; Satiah folded her hands over his. "Oh, Sati, thank the gods!"

She turned to the two guards standing in the middle of the cellblock. "Unlock this cell at once!"

The soldiers stood 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. 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 arrogant priest Seto—" He silenced himself, and Satiah turned to see Isis, 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. "Isis 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 the furthest 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 jolted 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 in line with her husband and the rest of the attending group — her father and Heqab, as well as Isis and Mahad, who had since been joined by Shimon. She exchanged a sidelong glance with her husband before the doors were thrown back a moment later, 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 the man's home, 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.

"I'm afraid I have to concur, 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? Or is the king's law not sufficient punishment in your eyes?"

Again, Seto seized up, unable to find a retort.

Suddenly, Heqab stepped forward, eyes still downcast. "If I may, your highnesses…" he started, wringing his hands. "I hold no grudges against Guardian Seto. 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 even further.

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 took a careful step, left foot 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 was 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 which have not yet been charted."

"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 Isis 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 adjacent to 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 brows arched 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 say?"

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 would seek?"

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."

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, though Atem was careful to keep his doubts to himself so as not to dampen Satiah's newly lifted spirits. 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 solemn 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 blankly 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 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 forebears 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.

In his brother's looming shadow, Atem felt suddenly as small as a grain of sand in the thrashing desert. He found himself echoing his father's sentiments, wishing that it had been his body smothered beneath the column in Ramesses' mortuary temple. He simply could not fathom why fate had chosen this path for him, when it was his brother's strength he had relied on his entire life.

In that moment, he recalled the words he'd heard in his vision of Zorac's tribunal — that men could only be granted godhood by the Order of Light.

"Father," he said softly, "do you truly believe the gods have the power to crown a king?"

His father turned, and a brief smile lit his face again. He reached out and took Atem's shoulder, turning him to face the expanse of the chamber. "Look around you, my son."

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 brave wife Hatshepsut; even the line of Amenhotep, whose dynasty had ended in disgrace.

"This kingdom was built by men and women of every caliber, and their paths to the throne were as varied as the stars in the sky. Some were conquerors, some were scholars. Some, like Amenhotep … were zealots." He paused and squared himself before Atem again. "Is it possible they only claimed their crowns through divine favor? Perhaps. But more important than how a king ascends is what he does upon his throne."

Atem looked up to see a familiar, wise shimmer had returned to his father's eyes.

"Every king in this hall believed himself a god in his time," he went on. "But I promise there is not a single one among them who was without flaw. Like my forefathers, I hold many fears and many regrets in my heart. And I have learned to live with all of them." The king straightened up and looked at the statue of his first-born son once more. "No man living can say what awaits him in the Duat — whether he will be welcomed to the company of the gods or cursed to wander amongst lost souls for all eternity."

His father's words were dark, but somehow, Atem felt lighter upon hearing them, as if just knowing there was more than one truth was a comfort in itself.

"You see, Atem, what defines a king's reign in this life is not his successes — only how he responds to failure."

Atem looked up to see his father gazing at his forebears again. His voice was louder now. It echoed through the chamber, rippling through the eras one-by-one.

"Tell them, Atem," he said, nodding his head to the statues before them. "Tell your ancestors how you would define your reign."

Without the beacon of his father's voice, a thick silence consumed the chamber. Atem could hear his heart beating in his ears — a steady, despotic drumbeat, demanding fealty.

"I want…" he started, curling his hands into loose fists. "I want not to walk in the shadow of my betters." He paused, and in place of the oppressive silence, he heard his own voice echoing back in a deep and noble tenor. "I wish only to walk in the light." Louder now, and joined by the resonant chorus of his forefathers. "I will 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. For weeks, it seemed 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 inspiration 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 filled him with wonder — to think that there might be as many futures before him as there were stars in the sky.

Another moment more, and Atem found himself at the threshold of his bedchamber. There, he entered and closed the door behind; his heart lifted further at the sight of his wife waiting for him. Satiah was sitting against the far windowsill, carefully 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. Like a beacon in the moonless night, Atem felt himself drawn to that smile, his legs carrying him weightlessly across the cool tiles.

Her eyes swept up and down him as he walked, studying his form as if she could sense the change within him. He stopped mere inches away from her, perhaps closer than he'd ever been, his chin nearly touching his chest in order to meet her upturned gaze. There, Atem saw all the heavens reflected in her wide eyes — a million wheeling stars, pulling him deeper, closer, his hand reaching up to trace along her arm and rest in the graceful curve of her neck. A fire sparked to life inside him to see that her calm 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. Though her eyes fluttered closed, taking the stars with them, the fire within him kept burning — kindling through his core and out to every extremity.

Satiah's hands soon rose up to brace herself against his chest, and he knew from the way her lips chased his 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 reached up to embrace him 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. Vexed, he straightened and wheeled around.

"What is it?!"

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! 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!