The Snake Charmer
Ambers apartment was in Al Biirat in a muggle neighbourhood but only a stone's throw away from Magical Thebes where the Center for Egyptian Historical Artifacts of Magical Significance, the Egyptian Old Magic Society and the Hidden Library of Wase were housed. Along with the Wase province, where a number of magical people lived and there was access to a selection of magical tombs, which were hidden from muggles but heavily regulated by the Egyptian ministry of magic. Like any city, there were pockets of magical communities all over, Arun knew most of them. Luxor wasn't a new place for her. She'd been curse breaking here for long enough to have a network, but she didn't much care for any of her acquaintances or trust that they wouldn't screw her over for a good opportunity or a sack of gold. And tensions between those who worked for Gringotts and the Egyptian Ministry were taught at the best of times. She wasn't expecting a friendly reception.
There was a lot to do now she was here. First Fenrir needed a place to lie low, as did she. Then she needed to locate the Americans before they found her. She kept watch on the apartment for the best part of a day, but nobody was hanging around outside or keeping watch that she could see and as the sun set she flew across and entered the apartment by unlocking the window.
There were signs of a struggle. Books and clothes strewn everywhere, burn marks on the ceiling and furniture on its side. Arun ignored it all, she was only looking for the portrait, which she found eventually, behind the dresser where it had fallen from the wall.
The painting of her sister looked out at her with a blank expression.
"You ok?" Arun asked.
Painting Amber nodded once, then slid her eyes across to the corner of the room. Arun sent a curse at a brown leather chair, which squealed and turned into a little old man.
"Who are you?" Arun demanded.
"Please!" he hissed in Arabic.
"English," Arundel demanded. "My Arabic is rusty."
"Please!" he said in English. "I have family."
"Tell me why you are here," Arun squatted down opposite him. "What are your orders?"
"I am... I am to wait."
"For what?"
"For you. I am to wait for you and to give you this." he held out his hand. Arun didn't take what was offered.
The man shifted with unease.
"Where are the Americans?" she asked him, taking advantage of his reluctance.
"I...I don't know."
"Who are you meeting with, when would you meet with them?"
"I don't meet. I get given this and told to wait here."
"Where did they give you this?"
The man shivered away from her, "The Crocodile Bazaar, They gave me no choice. They…" he pressed himself into the corner of the room. "They gave me no…"
Arun studied the letter he tried to pass to her. "Open it." she commanded.
"It's for you," he wailed. "It's for you."
"Open it!" she shouted. "Do not make me force you."
But the man shook and gibbered and Arun raised a hand "Cru-"
"Ok!" the little man was crying. "Ok, ok…." He wrenched open the paper, turning his face away as he did. Arun flinched, expecting an explosion, and cast a protective bubble but none came. The gibbering man looked at the paper too but inside was blank, he started to laugh but as he did Arun watched his muscles waste away and the shin shrink on his body, he began to scream, and then he was still. His hands still clenched the paper but the paper held no more clues for her and he had nothing else to give either.
Arun turned away and looked at the painting Amber, "I'm going to leave you here for now," she said to her sister's portrait. "I've got my painting and I'll keep it close, so let me know if anybody comes."
"Right," she said. "They didn't take my wand."
Arun looked across at the painting. "What?"
"I..She left it here. You can use it."
"Where?"
Painting Amber pointed across the room and Arun crossed to the bedroom and found it on the floor under the bed. Arun turned to leave but painting Amber stopped her.
"Arun," she said. "James Deacon. You need to find him."
Arun nodded, and painting Amber disappeared. "Wait, is he good or bad?"
There was no reply.
Arun had a safehouse on a street named Hafeth where the road intersected with the main road which connected a busy roundabout with another main road. She could see the St Mary Church of Luxor from her window. She'd bought the apartment from a muggle when she had still been tomb cracking for Gringotts but she had never listed it with the magical law enforcement of either country and she had stashed muggle money here, along with a number of maps showing the Magical areas of Luxor and the proposed dig sights of a number of tombs. It was quite a nice apartment, the floor was tiled and covered with patterned rugs. The lights hanging from the ceiling were encased in lanterns that cast different colours around the room and the walls were an off yellow, with archways rather than doors. She had a balcony too, though it looked out over the busy road and the smell of petrol fumes wafted in. She stretched the maps out across the table, sweating as she did in the heat of the Egyptian late afternoon sun, a drop of moisture broke away from her hairline and travelled down her nose then fell away, splashing the corner of the map. She craned her head back, feeling under her hair with a hand and bringing it away wet. Outside there was no breeze, and when she wished to any old god listening for even a slight gust of air, only the sun answered by shining brighter. There was a continuous thrum of traffic outside her window, the tooting of car horns and the shouting of vendors and she knew just how thankful she would be for the mosquito net after a good night's sleep here.
It was too hot to work, she still had on leggings and her overly large jumper, it was too warm for the climate, she hadn't washed since being with Severus either and she just felt….sticky…. Arun stood from her bent position over the table, stretched and shrugged out of her clothes, then she crossed to a large teak wardrobe on claw feet and pulled open the door. She smiled, her clothes were still here. She ran her hand across light silks and cotton tops, and loose fitting linen trousers, the kind of horah henry clothing the explorers of the twenties would have put on when they crawled around in the dirt full of imperial fervour and cultural ignorance. There were dresses too, conservative ones. Luxor wasn't like England, if you wanted to blend in here you didn't show skin, even amongst the wizarding community.
She took a towel from the wardrobe and went into the bathroom, she had a cold bath, magicked her hair clean and dressed in light clothing and covered her hair with a headscarf. Then she crossed back to the map and studied it.
Outside the air had the old dry smell of hot evenings. The traffic was still awful and a number of people turned to watch as she left her apartment. Dressed as she was it stopped some of the more persistent locals from pestering her but some people still called out, "Hey pretty girl, where's your husband?" she ignored them for the most part and when she navigated her way across to the Bazaar she was practically deaf to their pestering. She walked the Bazaar without any particular agenda, simply looking out for anybody who looked American. She did find a couple but they were muggles and they were taking tea with a carpet seller. By the time she left it was dark, and she crossed the river and entered a bar called the Grand Wizard of Luxor which hosted Muggle clientele but also had a false wall next to the toilets. She pushed through the wall and descended into a vaulted chamber held up with carved Egyptian pillars. Water fountains littered the floor and pleasant music played. Arun waited for a table and when the waiter came she asked for a private booth.
"Of course, you are in luck, it is quiet tonight."
"Do you still make that lovely Fattah?"
"We do, yes," The waiter showed her across the room, where she scanned the faces to see any that might stand out. Most were locals, some of them she knew. Coming here was a risk, but if she wanted to get anywhere she needed to speak to people. She ducked into a private alcove where seats were carved from the stone then tiled and she lit one of the candles and put it on the outside right corner, it was a sign, basically saying 'I have work.'
After a little while, a few men walked past and cast her an interested look, when they saw it wasn't somebody they knew they sloped off. Her Fattah came, and she nibbled on succulent pieces of beef whilst she continued to watch the people in the bar and about half an hour into her meal a small man with tanned skin and dark eyes slid into the seat next to her. His skin glistened with sweat and his handlebar moustache was thick black. He wrung his hands and sat forward to talk. "Misses Granville you should not be back here."
"Hello, Amon. it's good to see you too."
"Yes," he hissed. "Yes very lovely, welcome back, now go home."
She chuckled and ignored him.
"You are in danger Misses."
"I'm always in danger."
"Big danger. Too big. Bad people in Egypt at the moment."
"What have you heard?" She asked.
Amon leaned in, then he leaned away and looked around the bar. "I hear things. I hear things about curses and dark wizards and lots of people looking for a girl called Arundel."
"What people? Where are they looking, who do they have working for them?"
"Ehhh," Amon drew his shoulders up to his ears. "I don't know names Misses. I know rumours."
Arun leant in. "Do you know the name James Deacon?"
Amon nodded, "This man, yes, I have worked for him before."
"Can you set up a meeting?"
Amon hissed through his teeth, "Well, you know…"
Arun put money down between them.
"It's dangerous times misses. You are a dangerous woman."
She put half as much again on top of her original price, "And there will be more for you if you bring me news of names and locations of any americans in Luxor, specifically ones guarding or working on tombs."
Amon's teeth were white as pearls as he eyed the money. "I like you misses Granville."
"If you sell me out to them I will kill you and your family Amon, that's not a threat that's a promise."
Amon's smile fell. Arun looked him dead in the eye, she saw his house, his street and the faces of his family and she described them back to him in great detail.
"I…yes...I… You can trust me Miss Granville."
"I will know as soon as you betray me."
He nodded, his eyes shifting with nervousness.
"I will be at the obelisk at noon tomorrow. Get James to wear a flower in his jacket pocket so I know who he is."
Amon took the money and slid away and Arun got out of there quickly too. Hanging around for longer was just inviting company.
She walked back to her flat, keeping an eye out for anybody who took too much or too little interest in her. Once home she opened her travel trunk and climbed in, then she found her painting and studied her sister's portrait, "Anything?"
"Nothing."
"I need a disguise," she muttered.
"Going 'native'"
"I think that's racist. But, yes, it's going to take me most of the night to perfect this transfiguration, isn't it?"
"You're good at wandless transfiguration though."
"Not that good."
"Then it's a learning experience."
Arundel grumbled and sat infront of her mirror, "right," she sighed…. "Let the torture begin."
Luxor temple was packed full of tourists, from her seat on the floor by the Obelisk she could see a wide sweep from the nile river on her left to the city on her right. The trees looked like large rounded fans. She watched with a practised eye how the muggles on the make dodged and weaved between the tourists selling and pestering them, pressuring them into buying something from them or accepting them as guides. Nobody pestered her today, She was an Egyptian man, and would be until she painfully turned herself back. It had taken her hours to remodel herself, changing her bones, hair and skin. She sat with a pack of cigarettes and a spread of bracelets in front of her and she just sat and watched. People walked past and looked politely interested but not so much that they wanted to buy anything. She sweated, brushed flies away from her face and wished that she had asked James Deacon to come at ten, or earlier when it wasn't so damn hot.
She spotted the sunglasses and white cotton suit of the Americans before she ever found James Deacon. Once she had spotted one she saw others. Five in total milled around in the square, taking photos and observing the crowd, pretending to look at the sights. Had Amon betrayed her? There were plenty of people in the bar last night on the payroll of the Americans who would have been looking out for her.
Amon appeared in the square from the direction of the shops, he walked past her without even looking at her and she made no move to identify herself as the Americans had seen him too. They made for him, he got spooked and ran, and three of them followed. On the other side of the square a man with a crew cut, with chinos and a white shirt flinched, his hand flicking to his pocket, then relaxed when he saw that the Americans were not after him. Arun studied him, there was no flower in his pocket, but there was a British poppy badge on his lapel. She took up a tray of bracelets and made her way across to him.
"Imshi," he told her. "Go away." His jaw was carved from marble, with a dimple in the middle and his face was tanned golden from being in the sun so long. Arun remembered Amber telling her that she would 'slide off her seat sideways' for him. Which annoyed her, because, attractive as he was, she wasn't sliding anywhere.
"You want to buy one of these," she told him. She hadn't bothered to change her voice.
He looked at her as if for the first time, "Oh."
"Amon was made."
"I saw."
"Good idea to come in separately."
"I know," he was American too, but she couldn't place the accent. "So how much?" he asked her.
She held up the bracelets "Ten US Dollars"
"Ten!" he spat, and they watched one of the Americans stroll past them without paying them much attention. "Way too much. I'll give you one."
"Fine. Meet me in twenty minutes and we'll take the Local Ferry. Go be a tourist."
He paid her a dollar and took a bracelet then he wandered away into the temple and Arun returned to her spot, then, when the Americans weren't looking she packed it up by hand, and started to make her way towards the Nile. It stunk by the water's edge and as she queued for the local ferry she put her bag of sellables down by a bin and they turned into cockroaches and scuttled away. A little later Deacon appeared, queued up too but the ferry was too packed for them to sit together to talk. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and motioned with his eyes to the top deck. Arun got up and followed. It was cooler up here, and there was, thankfully, a breeze. There were a few people but nobody who made them worry and they sat together at the front of the boat and smoked.
"I find myself strangely intrigued by Amon's message to me last night. I am by profession a man on the make, so to speak, and I do not make it a habit tender myself to acts of charity. He was most insistent that you do not fall into that category, however, I am yet to be convinced." he took a drag. Arundel stayed silent. "I am a man of some skill, and a man of some knowledge of these here parts, and of those peoples who have a vested interest in the wealth of this fine nation. These are not skills I give freely."
"You want paying, that's fine."
"Oh no, surely you misunderstand me. These are dangerous people you are involved with. A simple financial transaction is not enough to entice me to work with you. I am a man of some self-preservation. I ain't no ye'ha cowboy dropping his coat on the floor because some crossdressing damsel is in distress." he laughed at his own choice of words and turned his head into the wind to cool the sweat beading on his tanned face.
"Clearly."
"And as such a man, I do find that in times like these, certain artefacts are more valuable than others."
"What are you after?"
"Well now, that is a matter of some debate. You see, your sister came up against me most grievous and she took from me that which was not hers to take. I am very aggrieved. Aggrieved to the point that I have had to use my considerable skills to attack and even try to kill your fine sister. And yet, she has eluded me, and proven herself to be a very shrewd operator. In the course of my enterprise against her, I find she is involved in an enterprise of her own, which resulted in her being captured before my business with her was concluded." He offered Arun a cigarette and lit it for her. "Now, surprisingly, I find out that these here men who have taken her are the worst kind of men, and I realise to myself that my chances of reclaiming my stolen effects have diminished somewhat. For, you see, I am a man of integrity and high moral value, and there are some kinds of people in this world I will not parley with."
"What did she take?"
"My notebook and my map."
Arun nodded and looked out across the water. "If I were to find and reclaim these items would you help me?"
"If you were to return them to me, freely, and without a fuss I would consider your sister's debt to me repaid- however that does not mean I will then help you, as I have said before, I am a man not given to acts of charity."
"So you do want money?"
"I happen to know that you have an item in your possession that I would like much more than money."
"Oh?"
"The Oran Spike."
Arun sniffed. "I need it."
"Way I see it, you need your sister back."
"If I give you the spike, the Americans win."
"Just what do you need it for anyways?"
Arun leaned in, "The Americans are trying to resurrect the Dark Lord using the Grants Artefacts."
Deacon didn't look so sure of himself any longer.
"They have four, I have three, and they want to trade my sister for the remaining artefacts."
"Well now," Deacon was momentarily lost for words. "Seems you have yourself a problem."
Arun flicked ash over the side of the boat.
"I tell you what, as I said before I am a man of strong morals and there is nothing I like less in this world than dark wizards. You get me my items back and I will help you, in so far as I am capable, but you give me the spike regardless. I will surly use it when the time comes but it is my payment."
Arun bit her lip, Amber told her to go to this man, even though he had tried to kill her, and that meant something, but she would be giving him her only weapon against the artifacts.
"I would like to know my course of action before I exit this here water transportation. I do not mean to rush, but we are closing in on the other bank and I am not a tardy fellow."
She nodded once, Deacon spat on his hand and held it out to her. She took it, "A pleasure doing business with you. You can find me in Wase at the Sphinx hotel. Room 108. I will be there until tomorrow night, no later."