Aoife drummed her fingers on the table impatiently and gave her guard a sweet smile.

He stood with arms folded next to the door, just far enough away in the room for it not to be uncomfortable. If he grinned back through his magenta kaffiyeh, she did not know. Given how his eyes were narrowed in a distinctly unfriendly manner, she doubted it very much. How long it had just been the two of them she had no idea, there were no clocks in the stale room but it felt like it might have been hours, if not days.

"So," her voice cut across the silence of the room, "What's your name then?"

The man continued to glare at her.

"Been coming here long?"

Silence.

"Did you know you have some snot on your nose?"

His eyes narrowed even further.

"Alright, fine. Be that way. Just so you know, I'll not be leaving a good review when I leave."

"That depends," Said a voice from the door as it swung open, "On you being released, Miss Moran."

Aoife had jumped at the door clicking open, straightening up in her chair as the man entered with a roll of parchment in his hand. It was the same man with the narrow pencil moustache.

"Oh, hi Mahmood," Aoife watched him warily as he sat down, "Long time no see. Congratulations on your promotion." She nodded to the crossed wand and sickle on his shoulder, "About time in my opinion."

Mahmood did not answer but sat facing her. He unrolled the parchment and quickly scanned it before turning his brown eyes back to her hazel.

As the silence stretched, Aoife cleared her throat, "So, if there's nothing else to say, I guess we're done?" She went to stand, "Well that's a shame, I'll see you around!"

"Sit," Mahmood's eyes shot up to her and his tone was sharp, "Now."

Aoife gave a theatrical sigh and slumped back into her seat.

"There are many charges against you today and they are all of a serious nature."

"Oh is there?" Aoife raised her eyebrows and felt a nervous twinge in her stomach, "What else is new? Well, go on then. Let's hear them."

"Attempted fraudulent entry to the Maktaba Man Alsahara."

"I think I've already been punished for that one. That statue has one hell of a slap."

"Causing considerable damage to priceless books within the library."

"These are the books that fix themselves, right?" She decided not to mention the one with the page missing, "I bet they were back together before you could manhandle me here." She rubbed at her arm where it had been bruised, "Nice to see the aurors are as gentle as ever by the way."

Mahmood's eyes narrowed but he pressed on, "Starting a fight within the grounds of the Maktaba-"

"I'm sorry, what?" Aoife barked with laughter, "What? 'Starting' a fight? You seriously think I started on those two lads?"

"I do not know what happened, Miss Moran. That is why I am asking you."

Only when she was done explaining her side of the story did he speak again, "The men did not explain why they attacked you?"

"Funnily enough, they didn't."

"I see," He made another note, "Had you ever seen the men before?"

"Oh yeah, we're best mates."

"Miss Moran!"

"No, I hadn't seen them before today, Mahmood! Obviously not!"

"Unfortunately, the two men have no memory of the event so cannot explain their reasons for attacking you."

"Isn't that convenient."

Mahmood looked up from his notes sternly, "So we will not add that charge to the others."

"Good to know," Aoife raised an eyebrow with an uneasy lurch in her stomach and her anger growing, "Thanks Mahmood, I really appreciate it."

He ignored her, "The final charge is attempting to use magic within the Maktaba Man Alsahara."

Aoife felt herself snap and cut across him, every word punctuated with anger, "Those, men, were, trying, to, kill, me. What did you expect me to do? Stand there and let them work away? Point out the best place to brain me?"

"You could have run."

"I've already told you I tried! They cornered me."

Another note was made, "Did you try calling for help?"

"Call who? The wispy hands? Or do you gorillas just sit here on your holes waiting for someone to shout the word 'help'?"

Mahmood's nostrils flared, "You are no less arrogant than before. I have heard about the tomb outside of Luxor that you destroyed just this week."

"That wasn't me!" Aoife threw up her hands in exasperation, "That was a fecking great dragon! I take it you're trying to charge it as well?"

"And I have not forgotten Siwa."

Aoife's mouth snapped shut mid retort, anger flushed away. She suddenly felt like a bucket of ice had been poured down her back, making her shiver. Her side throbbed ominously.

Thankfully, in that moment, the door opened and another magenta-robed man entered. He whispered something into Mahmood's ear and he scowled.

"You escaped justice for your actions there also, just as you did earlier this week and just as you will today. Do not think that your luck will last forever, Miss Moran. I am watching you very carefully and as soon as you make the slightest mistake, I will be there. I will see that you answer for the crimes you have committed."

Aoife's mouth was bone-dry but she swallowed heavily and looked to him with a confused frown, "I take it you don't get to arrest me today so?"

"No," Mahmood scowled as he stood, "Your bail has been paid already. Once more your luck holds. You may not leave the country by any means, magical or other. If you do so, we will be aware of it and you will be arrested."

"Why would I ever want to leave, when everyone here is so friendly." They were at the same eye-level, "I do so enjoy these chats we have, Mahmood," There was no humour in her voice, "I hope we get a chance to meet again."

"Get out." She took one look at his ugly expression and quickly ducked from the room.

Her curiosity at who had literally bailed her out was not long in being answered. As she walked the long, marbled hall to the doors of the Egyptian Ministry of Magic, she saw a figure waiting with his hands in his pockets, flaming red hair tied up in a ponytail.

"Well Bill," She took a deep breath, feeling butterflies spring up in her stomach, "What did they bring you in for?"

"To collect some rubbish apparently," He fell into step beside her, "Some ridiculous story about a Curse Breaker starting a fight in the biggest library in the world."

She gave a sarcastic snort, "Ridiculous indeed. Who on earth would do something stupid like that?"

"Good question," He was watching her out of the corner of his eye but she refused to look at him, instead fixing her gaze on the large doors that led to the outside world, flanked by two massive golden lions, "So what happened?"

"I got into a scrap. You know, Irish and all that," She shrugged.

"Come on Aoife, what really happened? Why were you even there?"

"Well, I was hardly ordering an ice cream, was I?" She felt those defences rise, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck.

Bill took a step away from her, frowning, eyes searching her face, "What's your problem, Aoife? I just spent my last gold to get you out of trouble and you won't even answer a simple question!"

She was now scowling. She hated how she was being but any time she tried to think of anything else, that clammy coldness clasped at her heart. It had to be like this, there was no other way. Taking a deep sigh, she forced herself to be calm, "Why?"

"What?"

"Why did you spend your last gold to bail me out? You didn't need to."

"I did," He ran a hand through his hair sheepishly as they stepped out into the warm Egyptian sunshine. Behind them was nothing more than a dilapidated police station, "I owed you for what happened in the temple the other day. You saving my life and all."

She scoffed but for the first time felt a little warmth, "You didn't need to repay me for that. Anyone would have done it."

"I'm not so sure, not in this business," Bill was looking right at her and he sighed, "Aoife, you don't have to do this alone."

She did not answer at once, instead she found her lungs compressing once again. She felt as if she was choking, drowning, a green light flashing in her mind. Her arm flinched.

"No," She whispered the words, "I do."

"Aoife-"

She straightened up, voice clear once again, "Thanks Bill, I'll repay you the money, I promise." How she was going to, she had no idea, "I'll see you around."

She set off down the busy street, only glancing back briefly to see that Bill was still standing in front of the station, watching her until she turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

Aoife waited until nightfall before heading out of the city this time. She could have apparated but thought better of it. The walk would help clear her thoughts if nothing else. Not like it was a particularly long walk anyway.

In just a few hours, she was now north of Luxor in yet another arid valley not unlike the one in which she had been a few days ago. This one was not quite so quiet though. The site was littered with tents and little stalls, each cave propped up with steel and stone, signs warning visitors that apparition was blocked, not to touch anything and pointing them in the direction of the gift shop. The biggest sign of all was just ahead of her;

"WELCOME TO THE VALLEY OF THE CRESCENT MOON!"

She was not far from the Valley of the Kings, that great muggle discovery. They had never realised that just a few miles away was this literal treasure trove. It had taken a strange wizard looking for desert nargles to come across it years later. The greatest discovery in centuries; the tombs of the great sorcerers of Egypt, the ministers and advisors of the Pharaohs resting nearby.

Aoife pulled her wand from her pocket and lit it with a whispered "Lumos". Not that it was needed for there were plenty of torches that ensured the site was illuminated. She just felt more comfortable with her own light.

She passed between the tombs, studying the plaques that were placed beside each one, announcing its resident and its discoverer. Barcroft had taken the new Curse Breakers here in their first weeks, lectured them endlessly on the challenges of their predecessors had faced and made sure they knew what they would face in turn. She hadn't paid too much attention. She had been far too busy studying the tombs themselves. She and…she stopped and shook her head at the pang of pain that ran through her heart.

Never again.

It didn't take much time to find Asim's tomb. It was one of the largest cave entrances with a large tower rising from the stone like a unicorn's horn. She studied the plaque:

"The Tomb of Asim, Seneschal and Chief Minister to many Pharaohs of the Third Dynasty. Discovered in the summer of 1990 by Curse Breakers of Gringotts Bank."

She snorted, glanced around to see if anyone was watching, and ducked inside the entrance.

In comparison to Ankhtifi's tomb of a few days ago, this was a delightful stroll in the park and refreshingly dragon-free. The air was fresh and the passageway was well lit. She glanced at the faded artwork on the walls, the hieroglyphs that told the story of Asim's life but there was nothing of particular note; just notes of tribute paid and how many heads of cattle. Even on his tomb they mentioned fecking cows!

The central chamber was no smaller than Ankhtifi's and, having long been liberated of its treasure, it felt rather empty and sad with its tourist notes and velvet ropes. The sarcophagus in the centre remained on its dais, magically sealed along with a "Do Not Touch" sign written in about twenty languages. Aoife gave it a friendly slap,

"Well Asim, what secrets are you hiding from us mate?"

Rolling her shoulders, Aoife began to study the room. She walked around the walls, studying the hieroglyphs, checked the ceiling for anything out of place and the floor for hidden trap doors. She was starting to feel slightly foolish with her lit wand. Scholars had been studying this site for years. Surely if there was anything here, it would have been found already.

She walked back to the entrance and looked back into the chamber, clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth impatiently. There was definitely something out of place, but what was it?

Was it the pillars? There was one in each corner; three still standing and one lying in massive pieces behind a velvet rope.

Come on, what had Barcroft always said? Study the details. The obvious was easy. Look for something out of the ordinary, ask why it was so.

She began a slow walk around the room again, holding her wand above her head to get a better light on the hieroglyphs on the walls. More details of his life, office he had held, great things he had achieved, blah, blah, blah.

She stopped suddenly.

Above her head on the back wall of the chamber, she could see the outline of the bricks that formed the chamber, interlocked like a normal house. There was a single massive stone just above head height. If she squinted her eyes, it looked suspiciously like a lintel.

She put her hand to the space beneath it and pressed. It felt solid. She put her cheek against it. It felt cold against her skin but there was a definite tingle. There was magic here, and not ancient, faded magic either. This was different, this was newer.

Aoife clucked her tongue again and studied the bricks, hands on hips. They looked no different to the others. So, what to do? Her instinct was to use reducto and simply blow them out of the way, but she resisted. She suspected Mahmood and Goghol would not appreciate her efficiency.

She rapped her knuckles against the bricks. Nothing happened. Obviously.

She gave a little 'hmm' as she tapped her wand tip against her lip. What spell would have been used for this? A simple concealment charm?

She raised her wand; "Revelio!"

No reaction.

Right then. Not that.

A transfiguration of some sort? Perhaps turning sand into stone?

"Revelio Incantatum!"

Silence filled the room.

Damn it!

She kicked the wall. Nothing changed but a new pain in her toe. Who the hell had done this, Merlin himself? It was like someone was trying to shroud the secrets of the Pharaohs once again-

Oh. Oh, that was very clever.

Much as it hurt, she thought back to Hogwarts, to her seventh year. A spell and counter-spell mentioned in passing by wee Professor Flitwick on a cool spring day. She remembered it because she had learned it, despite the complexity. It had been just too useful for mischief not to. How many times had it gotten them out of trouble?

Aoife took a deep breath and raised her wand once again; "Stilla Velum!"

The wall simply fell away as if it had been nothing more than a brick-patterned curtain. As soon as it hit the ground, it disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"Yes!" Aoife gave a little fist pump in delight. Inside she saw a wide passageway leading into the darkness. With a deep breath and a glance over her shoulder, she entered.

She was not held in suspense for long. The passageway didn't go far and opened up into a small and dusty chamber. It was far from crumbling, but from the staleness of the air, no one had been in here in a while.

'Ha!' She thought triumphantly, 'Take that Goghol!'

Her wand-light fell upon the torsos of two large jackal-headed statues, each covered in a thick layer of dust. She frowned at the sight. They were Medjay alright, but what had happened? Did Medjay disintegrate like this with age? Confused as she was, it was hard not to feel a degree of satisfaction to see them in such a state.

"Yeah," She said to the closest one, "Not so fun, is it?"

She strode around the small chamber, taking in everything from the floor to the ceiling. There was nothing obviously remarkable about the room and she found herself frowning. Why had they even bothered building it?

Her eyes were drawn to the two statues once again. There was a noticeable gap between the two, as if they had been guarding something.

She ran her hand over the stone, cold and rough under her fingertips and the tingle ran up her arm like a static shock. More magic had been done here. Someone had been trying very hard to hide something.

The stone went smooth under her fingers. Unnaturally smooth compared to the rest of the wall. This wasn't natural.

Aoife could feel that familiar thrill of excitement as she took a step back and pointed her wand at the wall; "Revelio."

The smooth block began to bubble as if it were molten wax. Shapes emerged from the boiling stone and set themselves, hieroglyphs like those of Ankhtifi's tomb. With the thrill only growing stronger, Aoife leant in so the light of her wand illuminated the figures;

"Here lies the eye of Asim, first of his name, victor of the great battle of Isetba, defeater of the unnamed Defiler. He who with his brother threw down the Dueller and brought about the Kingdom's salvation."

Beneath it again was a poem and as she read, Aoife felt the hairs on her arms stand up and a chill run through her that had nothing to do with the cold;

One for the master who never grew old,

One for the captain with her heart of gold.

One for the dueller who could only destroy,

One for the prophet for whom fate was a toy.

The last was a shadow, greatness unnamed,

His power was endless, his might was untamed.

He waits in the darkness, to renew his reign.

When four become one, he will rise again.

Her mouth had gone dry as she reread the text, unable to pull her eyes away. Funeral poems were not uncommon in tombs but she knew in her heart this was different. It was as if the words themselves carried the fear of those who had carved them.

'They had to choose between potency or durability. They always went potency, no one wants their curse to grow weaker in time, but that makes them brittle, it makes them vulnerable…'

This had been bewitched to last. The caster had not cared about the power of their spell, about their legacy or their ego. They had only wanted these words to survive, this warning…

A bright light caught her eye.

Aoife spun with wand raised but there was no one in the room with her. The light had come from high up in the chamber; a narrow shaft she had not spotted but through which a beam of silvery moonlight was now filling the room.

She checked her watch, it was midnight. She had been here for hours.

Her eye caught the frame above the door and she stopped dead. There were silvery words shining, as if they had been written into the stone by a giant hand, gleaming in the beam of moonlight.

"Taken - the -, where - Darkness -,

- by - brothers, - it - not -.

To - city - souls, - the - was -,

- the - collide, - two - one.

There - Ra -, his - ever -,

- his - open, - aurum - ready.

Once - is -, the - shall -,

- be - intruders, - face - demise."

She had seen writing like this before, just a few days ago. It had been in-

Aoife swore loudly and turned her eyes heavenwards. Of course. Fecking typical…

She watched the words until they faded. The beam of light passed down the wall until they were hidden from view. Time to get out of here. There was enough here to think about without being caught trespassing.

It was when she was halfway back across the chamber, deep in thought, that she ran into the group.

There were five them in total; tall and broad, their faces hidden beneath black keffiyehs with wands in their hands. They looked at her. She looked at them. The silence dragged on for a long heartbeat.

They raised their wands.

"Stupefy!" She was quicker, her spell caught the lead figure in the chest and he was thrown back against the tomb wall. Aoife threw herself behind the nearest pillar as a volley of spells struck her cover. She could feel the debris striking her cheeks as she huddled into her protection. She could hear footsteps around her, people flanking around in the cavernous space.

She could not stay here. If they surrounded her, she was dead.

Aoife rolled from her cover, landing on her feet in front of another assailant. They looked as surprised as one another to be face-to-face. His hand clamped around her wand wrist. She hissed in pain and kneed him in the groin. He crumpled to the ground. A green spell struck the wall above her head and made her flinch. There were others coming through the exit doorway, reinforcements from outside.

She ducked behind a pillar and felt it shudder as curses took great lumps out of its ancient skin. There was no way out the main entrance. The only way was up.

She closed her eyes and raised her wand; "Illuminatos!"

The chamber was filled with a blinding light. Aoife kept her wand raised at the ceiling; "Reducto!"

The explosion shook the whole room; a shower of dust raining down on her head.

So much for Goghol's feelings.

She pointed her wand at a nearby chunk of debris; "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Aoife grabbed hold of the rubble as it shot into the air, straight through the hole she had created. Curses flew by her on either side, missing her by mere inches. She did not even wait to see if they were following her; she could tell that by the footsteps, she just ran as fast as she could.

Up and up she went, stairwell after stairwell, climbing higher and higher, further and further away from safety. A few curses came from behind her but her pursuers were hanging back. They knew she was running out of room.

At last she came to it. The tower at the top of the tomb. A place for the sorcerer to gaze upon the stars and the nearby graves of his brethren. Beneath her was a sheer drop some hundreds of feet.

Nowhere left to run.

The running from behind at stopped. They were approaching slowly. How many she had no idea. Too many to fight. Her heart was thumping in her chest and a cold thrill of fear was running down her spine. Her mind raced with ideas but each sounded more feeble than the last. In the end, there was only one more thought. A ridiculous thought, but what else could she do?

She sighed deeply and looked up at the stars; for what we are about to receive…

Aoife picked up the largest rock she could hold in her palm, took a deep breath, and jumped.

The wind rushing up to great her was beyond terrifying. She had never known fear like it. She pointed her wand at the rock, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

She felt it jolt as the spell took effect, hovering gently in mid-air as she had intended.

With that same jolt, it came free from her hand.

Aoife dropped with eyes fixed on the rock, ignorant of the pain in her grasping palm. It was a strange numbness she felt, no fear or anger, just a stillness in her mind and a twisting in her stomach. A resignation.

"Arresto Momentum!"

Aoife felt as she had just been tugged by a rope about her waist, a painful yank that had her head snapping back and her organs lurching forward. Her feet hit the ground but her legs, not quite comprehending what was going on, crumpled.

"Come on!" A hand grabbed her and hauled her to her feet, "Come on! They're coming back!"

Spells were raining down from the tower as her hunters realised what had happened.

A hand grabbed hold of her shoulder and its owner turned. Before she was swallowed up by that suffocating darkness; Aoife had a brief glimpse of long, flaming red hair.