Aoife Moran had never liked apparition.
She winced as soon as she popped into existence and her hand went to her side. She glared up at the unrelenting sun as if it was personally responsible for the pain. Already she could feel the sweat starting to prickle at her skin. Why were these things always at fecking midday?
Her companion, a short and portly man, dusted down his suit and looked down into the valley. Luxor stretched before them, alongside the green-lined Nile as it made its way through the barren landscape. Their immediate surroundings were much less beautiful however, rocky outcrops rising up all around them like giants beneath duvets and pockmarked with caves.
He sighed and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. The sweat was already running down his flabby cheeks and his mousy brown hair was stuck to his peeling red skin. His suit had a badge pinned to the label, 'Daniel Aldergrove, Gringotts, Clerk'. It was impossible to imagine anyone being less suited to their surroundings.
"Miss Moran," He said, puffing his chest out pompously, "Are you sure we're in the right place?"
Aoife made a show of looking around, pushing auburn hair out of her eyes, "Well, it looks suitably Egypty."
The man's brow furrowed, "This is not the time to be flippant."
"I thought that was what made it the perfect time?"
"We are here on my and, need I remind you, the bank's time. Now please proceed."
She turned to him and folded her arms, "I thought you were in charge. 'I shall be taking the lead and there will be no risk to this investment'," she said this in a rather terrible attempt at his accent, "So, lead on then. I'd hate to step on your toes."
He looked at her blankly, then scowled, "You are already on a warning Miss Moran. I would advise you not to make things more difficult for yourself."
"Do you even know what you're looking for?"
Silence.
"How about this; you agree to do as I say from now on and in return, I won't leave you here for hours like an eejit looking for a tomb you don't know how to find. Agreed?"
His face had gone even redder, but his eyes were jittering nervously left and right, "Very well, but I am watch-"
"Okay then!" Aoife clapped her hands together to cut across him and stepped forward, shielding her eyes from the sun as she scanned the jutted horizon, "Why don't you make yourself cosy, it'll just take a moment."
Aldergrove chose to follow her closely, hands now working over themselves, "We've been searching for this tomb for months, Miss Moran. What makes you so sure you have discovered it's location?"
"It came to me in a dream."
"Miss Moran…"
"Alright, I found a map, a map that links in with all my other research," She answered without turning around, "It was the missing piece that made everything else fit and we're so very close."
"What makes you so sure it's here?"
She didn't answer him. How could she explain the tingle she felt down her spine when she stood here? There was magic here, ancient and faded magic but magic all the same.
"Miss Moran," Aldergrove said anxiously, "I have a bad feeling about this."
"Bad egg at breakfast maybe?"
"I am being serious!"
"Relax Danny," She flashed him a smile that did not reach her eyes, "Nothing will happen while you're with me."
Never again.
Her eyes fell on a particular hill upon which sat a particularly shaped boulder. It looked less like a rock and more like a tooth poking from the jaw of a slumbering monster. Aoife followed its shadow along the ground, excitement bubbling up in her stomach.
"When Ra reaches his zenith," She muttered to herself, "His spear shall lay upon the gate…"
"What was that?" Aldergrove frowned.
"Just an old text I read; simple enough really. Find the right rock and it'll show you the tomb's entrance," She followed the shadow to its tip with her finger and pointed into a cave, no different from the others. There was no end that she could see as it stretched into darkness, "Here."
Aldergrove peered into it and his thick eyebrows creased even further.
"It doesn't look like a tomb to me."
"Were you expecting dancing sphinxes or a glowing sign?"
"It just does not look very promising."
"Here, I'll prove it. Watch!" Aoife pulled out her wand and raised it above her head. With an elegant swish and flick, she called into the cave, "Revelio!". Her words did not echo.
Aldergrove leapt back with a frightened squeak.
The ground shook violently and both stumbled as there came to their ears a crunching and rumbling sound as if the earth itself was being pulled apart. The walls of the cave folded in on themselves like a children's pop-up book and out rose massive pillars which propped the ceiling up higher and higher. A sound like a deep and mournful howl came rushing out towards them, like the cave was yawning after its millennia long slumber.
In mere moments, it was done. No more was there a shapeless, featureless cave entrance but a finely carved passageway, held up by those mighty pillars and which seemed to descend down into the depths of the earth.
Aoife let go of a breath she had not realised she was holding. Yet she could not keep the triumphant grin from her face,
"There we go, looks a bit more promising to me."
She turned to Aldergrove to see he had gone as white as a sheet, eyes popping in his head as he looked unblinking into the entrance of the tomb.
"Still want to lead?"
He gave her a terrified look and Aoife felt her breath catch in her throat. She took a deep breath to steady herself, suddenly feeling a clamminess that had nothing to do with the heat. Those nerves were rising as she looked back at Aldergrove, "Are you sure you wouldn't be happier waiting here?"
Please say yes, please say yes…
He shook his head determinedly, "Lead on."
Bugger.
They approached slowly. Aoife held up her wand and with a whispered "lumos", her tip lit up. Each pillar was intricately decorated but worn and uniformly sandstone. Above her head was a single massive beam and along it had been painted native animals; lions, hippos, jaguars, hyenas and elephants. There were hieroglyphs here, faded and worn.
She held her tongue between her teeth as she passed her wand over each in turn and muttered to herself.
"I'm fairly sure it's a warning," she said at last.
"Fairly sure? Can't you read them?" Aldergrove's tone was accusatory. Aoife glanced back to check that he was still right behind her and let out a low breath of relief to see he was.
"Well, Egypt was only around for a few thousand years so things did change somewhat. Anything from the fifteenth dynasty onwards is grand but these are far older," She frowned at this. She was not doing to tell Aldergrove but this was already not stacking up with her expectations.
"Well, what does it say?"
Aoife held her wand over each symbol as she read it, "You stand in the presence of Ankhtifi, High Priest of the Nile and brother of Ra. His deeds are beyond counting. His glories are unmatched. It is he who threw down the Greatest of the Five and brought Ra's light to the darkness. Each step you take defiles his name and brings upon your house a terrible ruin. Beware the god of the sun and those who serve him."
There was a long silence, broken only as a wind swept down behind them and whistled in the cave entrance.
"Well, come on then," Aoife said brightly, "We don't want to keep Ankhtifi waiting so."
Aldergrove remained rooted to the spot, "Miss Moran, are you sure that's wise? The warning…"
Aoife waved a hand dismissively, "Ah they all say that. This is their first line of defence after all; superstition and fear."
"But why would they write that…"
She snorted, "They're hardly going to write 'In here are the great treasures of our time. Help yourself and please wipe your feet on the way out' are they?" She took a deep breath, "If you must insist on being here then stay as close to me as you can. Touch nothing and don't so much as fart without my say so. Got it?"
He gulped and nodded. He stepped forward, wincing as if expecting to be struck down immediately. When he was not, he took another, cautious step. Again, no terrible fate befell him and so he fell into step with Aoife, standing so close to her that he was practically sitting on her shoulder. Good. She preferred it like that. She needed him close just in case.
Never again…
After the roasting heat of the mountain valley, the chill of the temple was jarring. Aoife could feel the goosebumps springing up on her arms already, her hairs standing on end, cold clinging to her skin. The sound of their steps rang out in the hall, so it sounded like there were a dozen of them walking together. The air was rather unpleasant, stale and very dusty so it caught in the nostrils and throat, bringing out the urge to sneeze and cough, the taste acrid and sharp. The tingle of magic was so much more obvious here; ancient and powerful.
She felt the unease building within her as the passage grew darker, as they moved further from the sun. She felt her hairs stand on end, her breath quickening…
'Focus!' She thought to herself furiously, 'Focus! This is different! You won't let it happen again. You promised yourself. Never again!'
Yet the unease did not dwindle. She forced herself to think about what she would find in the centre of this tomb, the wealth she knew was stored here. This would be enough to get Aldergrove and his cohorts off her back, this would help make it right.
Except it wouldn't. She already knew it wouldn't.
She stopped dead. Aldergrove walked straight into the back of her with a dull 'oof'.
They had come to the end of the passageway. Here, flanked by two giant stone soldiers, it opened up into a great pillar-lined hall. They must have been deep underground as the ceiling stretched so high that Aoife had to strain her neck to even catch a glimpse of it. Like the entrance behind them it was bare and grey, monochrome and decayed.
"Why have we stopped?" Aldergrove began playing with his hands again.
Aoife did not answer. She had no answer really. Something had stopped her, some little voice at the back of her mind bellowing to get her attention. She looked back down the path they had just walked, dark and silent. They had passed the first defence; the warning at the entrance would have scared off many a superstitious thief, but not all. Some would have walked the same path they had, dismissing the curses as empty words and hollow threats. Until they got to here, the true entrance.
Aoife raised her wand, "Revelio Incantatum!"
Again, she heard Aldergrove squeak in fear. The world before them was going silver, as if someone had lowered a fine net curtain before their eyes. It even rippled in the faint wind that was coming from behind them and swaying lazily.
Aoife examined the shimmering screen and shuddered as an icy dread ran down her spine, like someone had dropped an ice cube down her back. That had been far too close, "A transfiguration curse," she murmured, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a large stone. With a breath to steel herself, she tossed it into the curtain. Rather than catching it however, it burst like a balloon hitting a solid wall, leaving only a misty cloud, "Turns anyone who walks through it into ash…"
"Ash?" Aldergrove voice had gone very high pitched, "Does that mean…the passageway…"
Aoife sounded far more casual than she felt, stomach clenching tightly at his words, "Yup, I suspect we've been breathing in some very unfortunate ancient thieves."
Aldergrove retched, as if he was attempting to expel the dust he had been breathing since they had entered the passage. Aoife had eyes only for the curtain, though the urge to cough was strong. This curse, it was a powerful spell certainly, but it was old. What to do…
"Reducto perhaps?" She looked up at the ceiling, "Nah, that'll bring the tomb down on our heads."
Aldergrove gave a frightened squeak.
"Locomotor? Move the wall one at a time?" She snorted, "Yeah right, who the feck has the time for that?" She looked up at one the giant stone soldiers, "I don't suppose you have any ideas?"
Silence.
"Thought not. No harm in asking."
She tapped her lit wand tip against her lip, arms folded, "Let's see; what would Barcroft say?"
"Their spell casting wasn't as advanced as ours," She said to herself, mimicking a gruff tone and a terrible English accent, "They had to choose between potency or durability. They always went potency, no one wanted their curse to grow weaker in time, but that made them brittle, it makes them vulnerable…yes," She brought her tongue out again as she raised her wand, "This should do it; Finite potens incantatem!"
The curtain shattered as if it had been made of glass. Each fragment faded away into the air until nothing remained. A rush of wind came charging past them, As is making a break for freedom. Aoife had to turn away, shielding her eyes as the dust surrounded her and blinded her.
Aldergrove had screamed aloud as it passed over him and he was holding his mouth shut with a shaking hand, his face pallid.
Aoife checked him quickly and saw that, outside of clearly being terrified, he was fine, "Well, that should be us now, the other curses will have worn off a long time ago."
On they walked. Their footsteps now rang out even louder in the cathedral sized space. The wand light fell on shapes in the centre of the room; the outlines of crumbling and broken furniture. Beyond that she spotted the remains of primitive cauldrons and great cabinets of long decayed potion ingredients.
"Why is all this here?" Aldergrove asked, looking around. He had at last pulled out his own wand and now they had twice the light, "It's like a house."
"It was a house," Aoife tutted, "This will be all of Ankhtifi's possessions, the things he would need for the afterlife."
"But there's no gold."
"Oh, do you leave your gold in the front room as well?"
Aldergrove looked like he was about to speak, only to hear a rumble from deep within the tomb, followed by another rush of wind not unlike a roar.
He froze, "What was that?"
"Subsidence," Aoife replied but she paused and listened, "This place hasn't been touched in so long there's going to be a bit of noise and movement."
Onwards they pressed, revealing a little more of the darkness with each step. To either side of them came massive structures, the hulls of great ships with their oars broken and rotted. Beyond that, green, bronze skeletons flat on their bellies like beached whales.
"He was powerful," Aoife was looking back at the stern of the ship, ornately carved with bronze inlays whose detail had been stolen by time, "Ridiculously powerful, this is more like a pharaoh's tomb than a priest's. Weird…"
"And how is that weird?" Aldergrove clucked his tongue impatiently. She got the distinct impression his own ignorance was starting to annoy him.
"Because Sorcerers in these times weren't rulers," She looked down at him, "They were prophets, healers or priests. It was like their own version of the statute of secrecy, to keep the muggle populations from knowing the truth of them." She held up her wand to once again take in the vast vessel that could have easily held a hundred people in comfort, "He must have been one hell of a prophet, old Ankhtifi."
"And what does that mean?"
"It means we should find one hell of a gold horde at the end of this passage," The thrill welled up again in her, but it was joined now by that growing sense of unease. There was something wrong here. Something didn't fit together. She shook her head. It was just the tomb getting to her, the eerie silence. She had to keep going.
Through the door at the other end of the chamber was a smaller, narrower chamber that seemed to stretch back beyond the edge of their lights. Raising her wand, Aoife could see that there two were rows of plinths the length of the room, upon each of which was balanced an ornate vase. At the end were two huge figures who were guarding a door, grey in colour and seven feet tall with massive jackal heads. Each was armed with a wickedly curved sword.
Aoife checked the vases as they advanced into the room. Each had been beautifully decorated with moving figures, fishing, weaving and forging. She found her breath taken by them.
"Miss Moran, why are we moving so slowly?" Aldergrove asked from beside her impatiently. He had taken another step forward without noticing and Aoife dragged him back behind her.
"Won't take a moment," Aoife answered, "Just checking out these vases."
"The vases," There was an additional note of irritation in his voice, "Are not why we are here."
She looked back at him, feeling that familiar annoyance rising up in her chest, "Really? Here I was thinking we'd hit the jackpot."
"Please do not be flippant, Miss Moran. We are here for the treasure, nothing more."
"The gold is not going anywhere, Danny. These vases deserve a few more seconds of our time."
"A few seconds of your time perhaps, but I am here to ensure our investment is not wasted. Pots do not interest us and vases do not keep the bank going Miss Moran. Gold does. Now please!" He gestured on.
Aoife opened her mouth to speak but before she could so much as utter a word, the ground beneath them shuddered violently. Aoife barely kept her balance, but Aldergrove was thrown straight into one of the plinths. The vase fell to the ground, but the noise of its shattering was lost as another deep roar rumbled from somewhere else in the temple. The momentary pang she felt for its loss was quickly replaced by a fresh tenseness as she looked down to the end of the chamber.
"Oh bollocks," She managed with a rapidly drying mouth.
The figures at the end were moving.
Their jackal heads were turning in a slow, grinding motion. As they moved, the dust fell away to reveal a faded and mottled green underneath, blotchy and uneven. Aoife felt her breath catch in her throat as she stepped in front of Aldergrove.
"Medjay," she said in a rather awed voice.
"W-what?" Aldergrove was looking at the two figures, his ruddy face having gone the colour of snow.
"Medjay, ancient statues of bronze, bewitched to guard the tombs of the powerful," Aoife raised her wand, "I've never seen one in the flesh, well, metal before."
"So…what do we do?"
The heads of the medjay had stopped. Both were looking straight at her.
Aoife met their gaze; hazel eyes staring unblinking into lifeless bronze.
"Now lads," She started, hands raised, "We can talk about this…"
The world seemed to stop for a single heartbeat.
The medjay charged.
She had no time to raise her wand, no time to do anything but throw Aldergrove aside and duck as the medjay crashed into the plinths. Its sword cutting through the priceless vases without hesitation or mercy.
Landing awkwardly on her knees, Aoife twisted to her attacker; "Reducto!"
The spell landed between the shoulders of the first medjay and bounced harmlessly away.
She only just saw this before there was a stamping noise from behind. Without thinking, she threw herself onto her stomach. She felt the medjay's blade pass through where her head had been moments before. As it passed her, the first was advancing towards her with sword raised.
"Incarcerous!" She yelled. Thick ropes flew from her wand and tangled themselves about the feet of the bronze monster. It tried to take one more step before falling flat to the floor. The entire chamber shuddered, dust falling from the ceiling in great clouds. The ropes finished twirling around it until it resembled a great mummy, lying still on the stone.
The second was charging her, sword raised. Aoife tried to caste the same spell but dust caught in her throat and all she could was splutter. She barely dodged the swing. She did not see the hand that followed it even as it caught her stomach. She felt herself deflate as she hit the wall with a heavy crack. Pain burst through her shoulder and a cry left her lips as she slumped to the cold hard ground.
She looked up, vision swimming. The remaining medjay was advancing on her, both hands now gripping its sword.
Aoife clenched her hand. Her fingers closed on her sweat-soaked palm. Her wand! Where was her wand?
There it was! Still glowing faintly, just out of reach. She scrambled towards it, ignoring the searing pain in her shoulder, and running down her arm. Her mind was curiously blank, her thoughts only on the wand in front of her. She could hear the footsteps approaching, growing louder, growing closer.
The medjay was right over her, sword raised. There was no pity in those bronze eyes. No remorse.
Aoife lunged for her wand and spun on her back. A horrific sight met her. The sword was already on its way down.
She screamed the words, "Glacius totalus!"
The medjay was blasted through the wall with a crash, bringing another wave of dust down upon them. It was encased in solid ice and fell to the ground with a definite, final thump.
A sudden and harsh silence filled the room, broken only by the deep, gasping breaths as Aoife fought for air. She got to her feet slowly, wincing at the pain down her shoulder and side. Bringing her good hand up to her forehead, she felt the warm blood at her temple.
"Danny?" She spoke into the silence breathlessly. No one answered.
Oh no…
A fresh panic gripped her as she looked around. Where was he? The medjay had been focusing on her surely!
Not again…
"Lumos," She whispered the word and the wand tip ignited again. Every vase in the room had been smashed. Every plinth lay broken upon the tiled floor. Amongst the carpet of broken clay, her wand light fell upon a figure, lying still on the ground.
"Danny!" She leapt over the fragments and dropped to her knees, turning him over. Aldergrove looked up at her, eyes wide and terrified, face rigid and mouth open as if in a silent scream.
But he was breathing.
Aoife exhaled the breath she had not realised she was holding. Her wand tip was trembling.
"Are you hurt?" She asked hoarsely.
Aldergrove gave the tiniest, faintest whimper.
"I guess not," She pulled herself to her feet with a grunt and took one last look around the room, at the carpet of smashed porcelain. So much for that particular wonder, "Cheers, by the way. You were a big help."
Aldergrove whimpered again.
"Come on," She offered her good hand, and he took it, unheeding of the pained look that shot across Aoife's face as the sizeable man pulled himself up, "The central chamber should be just through here."
"Will there be any more…challenges Miss Moran?"
"There shouldn't be," Aoife sighed, "There will have been two entrances to the chamber. We should have dealt with any challenge this end…as for the other end..." she trailed off.
Aldergrove gave only a frightened squeak.
Only when they were walking again did she check herself a bit more thoroughly. The shoulder was likely only bruised, she had gotten worse on the quidditch field at Hogwarts but her ribs were throbbing with every breath. At least one of them was definitely broken. That was another trip to the Mustashfaa. She pulled a face at the mere thought, trying to think of anything but the stabbing pain.
The door that the medjay had been guarding was made of fine marble, solid and heavy but with a wave of her wand, Aoife had the two halves sliding apart with a deeply unpleasant grinding of stone on stone.
She heard Aldergrove gasp behind her. She knew her own mouth had fallen open at the sight.
Gold.
It lay about them so it was impossible to look anywhere but at the vast piles. There were mountains of coins of many sizes, some as large as dinner plates, heaps of cups and bowls inlaid with fist sized rubies and emeralds, lines of golden statues; everything from elephants to long, wingless, snake-like dragons. A shaft of golden light shone down from high above and made the treasure glitter and shine. In the very centre of the room was a raised dais and on that was the massive ornate coffin of Ankhtifi himself.
Aoife turned her focus to the beam of light. It must have been a secret opening to allow in the bright midday sunlight. It was shining down on the sarcophagus on which golden words were emblazoned as if they had been written in fire:
"- from - depths, - the - lay,
Returned - the -, where - can - stray.
- the - of -, where - battle - won,
Where - cousins -, where - become -.
- shall - sleep, - blade - steady,
Until - eyes -, his - gaze -.
- Ra - watching, - walls - arise,
But - warned -, you - your -."
"Miss Moran," Aldergrove's words brought her back to the portly man and she noted the clipped, business-like edge to it once again, "You have done exceptional work here today and I will be sure the bank knows of it. We will begin processing this at once," He stretched out his wand.
"No!" Aoife grabbed his wrist, "Don't use magic on the gold! Not unless you fancy a second head or something."
"What?" His eyes widened in horror.
"Their final defence," She said, letting go of his arm, "I don't know what charm will have been put on it but there will be some sort of curse. It will all need to be de-hexed. There's no rush," She said, eying his outraged expression, "We can take our time, no one else kno-"
"Stay where you are!"
A new voice echoed around the room. Aoife spun, wincing with the pain, and aimed her wand at the newcomer. The man was approaching from the opposite direction of the central chamber. He was tall, skinny and freckled with red hair falling down his back in a long ponytail, his blue eyes narrowed. His own wand was out and pointing squarely at Aoife.
Aoife groaned and heaved a deep sigh, "Sod off Weasley! I was here first!"
Bill Weasley came to a halt just a few feet from the pair of them. His voice was measured but with a distinct note of anger, "The only reason you're here at all is because you stole my map."
There was a long moment of silence.
"Miss Moran," Aldergrove asked, "Is this true? You stole Mr Weasley's map?"
"I did not steal it!" Aoife responded without breaking eye contact or lowering her wand, "I only looked at it! It's not my fault he left it lying on his desk in the middle of the office!"
"I wasn't expecting someone to come along and try to claim my tomb!"
"It's hardly your tomb, is it Weasley? Not unless you want to go bunk with Ankhtifi and leave me to it!"
"Actually," Aldergrove cleared his throat loudly, "It is now the bank's tomb. Miss Moran, I thank you for your service today but in light of this…new development, I will need to file a report back to the office."
"Really?" Aoife rounded on Aldergrove and he flinched away. There was a new fear in Aoife's mind, a fear that nothing to do with the clerk or Bill Weasley. She could not lose this one. Not again. Not after what had happened, "After everything we went through? Cheers Danny, you're a real pal!"
"It was hardly a walk in the park for me either," Bill snapped, "I've had my own problems! I had to bypass a firetrap just to get into this room!" Sure enough, she could see the burn on his bared arm and his charred shirt, "And I had the map!"
"But without me, your stinking map would have been useless!" Aoife stamped her foot.
"Enough!" Aldergrove's voice rang out as if a crowd had yelled it together, "The bank will decide who has earned the commission!"
Aoife lowered her wand and scowled; eyes turned heavenwards. There was no way the bank would look kindly on her creative research methods. She had just lost the tomb.
I'm sorry Julius…
Bill was examining her, looking the dusty woman up and down as if considering something.
"You're hurt?" He said at last.
"It's fine," She snapped back, hating that he had noticed.
"Look," Bill ran a hand through his hair and slowly lowered his wand, "Aoife, you did do half of the work to get here," He sighed, "So, I'm willing to do a deal."
Aoife's eyes narrowed.
"I would go 50-50 with you. Sound fair enough?"
Aoife looked at him in surprise, "Are you right in the head? You want to split it?"
"Not really, but fair is fair."
"You know the bank is going to give you everything right?" She glared at Aldergrove whose eyes very quickly turned to the nearest pile of gold.
"I know," Bill smiled sheepishly, "I wouldn't have known for sure where the tomb was without you, and you did your part in getting here, so a 50/50 split of the proceeds seems right to me if you're okay with it."
Aoife shook her head at the lankly man who had lowered his wand to his side. She knew not a single other Curse Breaker in Gringotts would have made that offer but she felt instinctively wary. This should have been her find, her big break. Something to wash away the stench of Sima, the failure in the eyes of the world. Even thinking the name brought an unnatural chill to her bones and she felt suddenly closed in, trapped, suffocating. She felt suddenly like she was choking for air, her side throbbing with a pain that had nothing to do with her ribs.
Her mouth had gone bone dry. Her hands were clammy once more,
She looked up at Bill.
It all happened so suddenly.
Her eyes were pulled away from Bill, to a shape just over his shoulder. She was moving before she even realised, raising her wand at the shadow. She briefly saw the look of shock in Bill's blue eyes, his jaw setting before she shouted, "Illuminatos!"
The spell burst into the air, flooding the chamber with a bright light as if someone had just let off a flare. The room echoed with a heavy boom. Bill was thrown to the ground. In the intense glare, she saw the shape had vanished. What had it been? She looked around for it desperately. It had to be here! She had seen it!
Something moved out of the corner of her eye.
Aoife spun to face it. A bat was flapping up forwards the narrow shaft of light, squeaking furiously.
Her wand fell limply to her side.
"What the hell was that about?" Bill clambered to his feet and glared at her, brushing down his jacket.
Aoife looked at him. She could feel heat rising in her cheeks even as her heart continued to throb in her chest. The pressing darkness had fled in the intense light. She shook her head.
The entire chamber lurched violently, the floor shaking with such force that all three were thrown from their feet. Aoife cried out in pain as she landed hard on her bad side and a fresh, hot pain shot through her body. Avalanches of gold were crashing down around them, oceans of coins shifting and mixing, figurines headbutting one another as they fell together. There was an ear-splitting, deafening roar that made the very air around them tremble as if in fear.
"You prat!" Aoife scrambled up heavily, wand now pointing down the passageway from which Bill had entered, "You didn't tell me your firetrap was a dragon!"
"I didn't know it was a dragon!" Bill was standing alongside her, wand aimed down the same path, "I didn't think!"
"Well it was hardly a cigarette lighter, was it?"
"You're the one who woke it up!"
"It's not my fault it's a light sleeper!"
The steps were getting louder, the rumbling in the tomb more violent. Great clouds of dust were now raining from the ceiling and there came the awful, deep crunching of stone as it began to pull apart. Bill's passageway was now glowing orange.
"You have to go," Bill said breathlessly, rolling up the sleeves of his jacket. Behind him, Aldergrove was holding his glowing wand by his side and staring blankly at the passageway, "I'll hold it off. Go, now!"
"I'm not leaving you with that thing!" Aoife hissed stubbornly.
"Damn it Aoife!" Bill turned to look at her furiously, "Do you want us all to be barbecued?"
She did not answer him but set her feet in the sand.
Another roar. The glow had gone from orange to an intense red. The heat was growing stronger, like standing in front of a furnace.
How exactly did one fight a dragon? Hogwarts had always been vague on the subject. Why was she even trying? No answer came to her, just that her legs refused to work, refused to surrender what they'd worked so hard for …
With a terrible crash and crunch of falling, shattered stonework, the dragon burst into the tomb.
It was not some baby but a fully grown monster. Even on all fours, it towered so far above them that they needed to crane their necks to see it's head. Its thick, shining hide looked to have been cast from metal, each scale gleaming in their wand light while two bony wings stretched out, all but touching the two walls of the tomb. A Nubian Bronzescale, a dragon the likes of which did not exist in the world today.
The awful reality hit Aoife like a bucket of icy water being tipped into her stomach.
They could not fight it.
Bill Weasley seemed to have reached the same thought for at that precise moment, he yelled at the top of his voice, "Run!"
Aoife turned to see Aldergrove looking up at it, mesmerised in his terror, arms down limply by his side.
"Run you tool!" She threw her weight against the clerk and he came to life. As they fled, Bill kept turning to throw jinxes and hexes at the creature. Each bounced harmlessly off its hide as if he were flicking pebbles at it.
The Bronzescale looked down at them with narrow golden eyes. They felt rather than heard it drawing in breath, the air shuddering around them. It sucked in dust through two vast dinner-plate sized nostrils before, with a guttural roar, it sprayed a great jet of flame from its long, bronze maw.
Aoife felt the heat on her back as she shoved Aldergrove along, a heat like nothing she had ever experienced. It was worse than any midday sun, like she was being cooked in her clothes. She ducked and weaved around the huge treasure piles as they fell around them. Any touched by the fire erupted like volcanos, molten metal forming rivers around them. Debris rained down from the roof, chunks of stone the size of cars crashing into the golden pools.
One such boulder landed just in front of Aoife and she threw up her hands as she was showered in the debris. Looking up, she saw another break free and begin its fall. It would land ahead of her. Right where Bill was standing. He wasn't looking. He hadn't seen it. His attention was on the dragon.
"Weasley!" She raised her wand, "Reducto!"
He looked up just as the boulder burst. He turned away as it rained down on him in tiny fragments. Another blast of fire passed over their heads and exploded against the far wall. One of the long, thick pillars tipped over behind them, hiding the dragon from view.
Still, they ran. They could hear the dragon roar deep within the bowels of the mountain, feel its breath still upon their backs. Every breath Aoife took was like being stabbed by a dagger but still she ran. Ahead she could see the little circle of light growing larger. She could taste the air growing fresher.
They burst out into the sunlight, followed by a huge cloud of dust, as if it too had been fleeing the Bronzescale and now scattered in delight in the wind.
All three coughed furiously. Aldergrove fell to his knees, gripping the sand beneath him as if to keep from floating away. Bill Weasley had his hands on his knees, shining with sweat, his ponytail stuck to his back.
"Are you hurt?" He said between gulps.
"Nah," Aoife shook her head even as she fought to keep herself from toppling over. Her side was burning as if it had been caught in flame and her ribs stung fiercely, "Like a skip down Diagon Alley. You?"
"All good, I think," He arched his back with a loud sigh, "Thanks for the save."
"Don't mention it," She breathed in as deeply as she could managed, "Think of the paperwork if you had been crushed."
He looked like he was about to retort but stopped himself. Instead, he looked back at the entrance of Ankhtifi's tomb, where only the entryway now remained, the last surviving remnant of what had once been so great and beautiful a resting place, "We should report back, and you should get those seen to."
"Alright ma, will do," She snapped but nevertheless walked over and took hold of Aldergove's shoulder. He was still staring blankly at the ground, "Come on Danny, I'll bring you back to the office. I suppose you'll not be wanting a permanent transfer to the field?"
The man gave the tiniest whimper as, with a pair of pops, the three of them vanished. In the silence that followed, Ankhtifi's tomb slowly sank into the mountainside once more.