Aoife must have drifted off at some stage. When she awoke with a start it was to see that the stars had gone. In their place was a pale red sky fading to a gentle orange. The sun was just cresting the flat horizon.

She jumped off the sleeping bag as if it was Christmas, that excitement bubbling uncontrollably in the pit of her stomach.

"Bill," She said excitedly, "Bill! Let's go! Rise and shine! We have a city to discover."

He needed no encouragement, Bill was standing in seconds with the same wild excitement in his eyes, "Let's go!"

They walked around to the front of the statue and looked up into the eyes of Ra. They were large and narrow but dull and rather sad. Somehow, Aoife just knew what had to be done.

"Are you ready?" She asked breathlessly. Her heart was thumping madly. She held in her hands the two Eyes. They were warm in her palms despite the morning chill.

"Ready," Bill took the Eye with the ruby in its centre and Aoife the sapphire. Together they raised their wands. The two golden ornaments floated up in unison, up towards Ra's falcon-like face. Aoife focused intently as two Eyes slotted in to either side of the beak.

For a long heartbeat, nothing happened.

"Taking his sweet time, isn't he?" Aoife said impatiently.

The ground started to rumble.

She shot a look at Bill in alarm. Rocks and boulders were bouncing off the ground at their feet, shattering like eggs. Aoife's arms were out as she tried to keep from falling in the violent tremors. She looked back up at the statue.

Ra was moving.

His arms were slowly lifting; sword in one hand and staff in the other. Slowly but decisively, they crossed one another.

Just like that, the shaking stopped.

Aoife's head jerked around to the plain. Her breath caught in her throat.

The plain was no longer smooth and featureless. It was now jutted with boulders and rocks. There it was, right in the centre of the boulder field.

Isetba.

The sandstone walls towered high over the plain, figures of sorcerers and gods carved into their faces. They looked to have crumbled with time though, fractured to either side of a tall and ornate but broken gateway. The towers at each corner would have been taller still but they looked to be missing, as if someone had sliced off their tops with a knife. Beyond them were the pillars and columns of the city.

"Aoife," Bill croaked.

"I know," She gulped, her heart beat ever more fiercely and her nerves grew, "Come on, let's go."

They left their campsite behind. It was better to explore as lightly burdened as possible. As soon as they were back on the ground, it was all they could do to keep themselves from running to the city.

As they grew closer though, Aoife found her excitement was tainted with something else, a hesitancy that was gnawing at the back of her mind.

They were on the outskirts of the boulder field with Isetba just ahead of them. From here it was clear just how tall the walls had been, how intimidating the city was. The damage was so much more visible too. The walls looked as though chunks had been torn out of them, the gatehouse like it had been smashed with a giant fist. She clambered over one of the larger rocks, eyes fixed on the city.

"Good god," Bill gasped, "Aoife. Look down."

She did so and could only stare.

It was not a rock she was climbing over.

It was a bone.

It was part of a spine that stretched out to her left and right with a great skull at the far end. It was a dragon, that much was clear, a Nubian Bronzescale she would have guessed. Its bony wings stretched out like those of an airliner. It made the one that had been in Ankhtifi's tomb look like a huffing toddler.

There were others too, dozens of them scattered across the field. In between them, she could see how the smaller stones were the remains of medjay, the figures of bronze and stone melted, shattered, split, and torn.

"It's not a boulder field," Bill's face had gone very pale, "It's a battlefield."

They made their way around the shapes and tried very hard not to look at the ground.

"I don't see any human remains," Aoife knew she sounded tense.

"The victors must have buried them," Bill answered from beside her as he side-stepped another vast dragon's skull.

"I don't understand," she said, looking up to the city. Now that she was closer, it was obvious to see where the walls had been hit by spells, where dragons claws had torn them down, where the gate had been battered again and again, "I've never heard of Isetba falling."

The battle against the dragon in Ankhtifi's tomb had been a nightmare. A battle of this scale, with so many dragons, it would have been apocalyptic.

"Remember the Scholar's story," Bill was looking down at here a medjay of stone had melted into the sand, "About how two brothers rose up against an evil sorcerer? He must have been telling the truth."

"Yeah but I thought he meant they hit him over the head with their staffs or something not…this," She gestured to the approaching gatehouse. The gates themselves were bronze and it was just possible to make out the figures that had been carved into them. The surface was blackened and thick with soot. Aoife looked back to the field and tried not to imagine which dragon had attempted to burn them down.

The excitement had most definitely gone by the time they stepped through the gates. On the other side were tall structures of marble and stone, proud columns flanking a cobbled street. Except this was not what drew Aoife's attention first. That was fixed on the remains of yet more medjay lying many layers thick on the other side of the gate.

She gulped and drew her wand. Her hairs were standing on end now on her neck and on her arms. There was a tingle running down her spine, like someone had just slipped an ice cube down her back.

"Bill," She shuddered.

"I know, I feel it too," He was frowning with his own wand drawn, "Ancient magic. I've never felt it this strong before."

"There's something wrong," She was looking left and right as if expecting an ambush, "This doesn't feel right."

"You want to turn back?"

She considered it for a long moment. It made the most sense just to turn back. Her instincts were screaming at her to do so. Yet this was the city of legend, the seat of a member of the Five. She could not just turn away. She had to see what was within.

Slowly, Aoife shook her head, "Let's go."

Bill nodded and gestured forwards towards a grand building that looked in no better state that the rest of the city. It must have been a grand temple or palace, or perhaps both, in it's time. It's walls still shone where it caught the light, but so much of it was missing and broken that it looked more like a decrepit ruin on the streets of Cairo. Every step of the journey took them around more medjay, more skeletons of creatures Aoife did not recognise. Whatever battle had been fought for this city; it had been fought every step of the way from the gates to the palace.

They passed by broken statues and scorched trees perfectly preserved by whatever spell had been cast on the city. Some of the burns looked so fresh that Aoife was surprised she could not feel their heat on her skin. The cobbles of the streets were thick with ash as a volcano had erupted.

The palace loomed high above them atop a flight of large and wide marble stairs. These were no less littered with the debris of battle than the streets beneath. If anything, the numbers of fallen medjay grew thicker.

"There must have been thousands," Bill said in wonder, "And we thought there were only ever a few dozen at any one time."

"This must have been one hell of an army," Aoife examined the nearest medjay, who's head had been transfigured into a bucket.

"It had to be the most powerful in the world."

"Not that it did this guy any good, going by the state of the place."

"Indeed."

They passed through the door of the palace. The doors here were bronze and as thick as her fist but they lay flat on the ground, blown off their hinges by feck-only-knew what sort of spell. The chamber within was dark and soot lay thick on the ground and in the air.

"Lumos," They whispered together to cast light into the room.

Aoife could only wonder how it would have looked in all its pomp. The pillars down each side of the hall were as thick as her entire body, carved into the shapes of serpents and falcons. They were so impossibly smooth that they could have been done only with magic. What was left of the broken floor was exquisitely mosaiced with moving figures. So much was missing it was hard to tell but it looked like medjay battling some sort of winged monster in snowy mountains.

There was no throne in the vast hall nor one in the next. All the while, Aoife could feel the growing tenseness in her mind and a chill in her skin. Once out of the sun, the ruin was frigidly cold, and she shivered even as the smell of smoke and decay reached her nose and tongue.

The deeper into the structure they went, the more she heard them. Whispers. Insidious voices, bodiless and subtle, speaking words she could not hear, chanting spells she did not understand.

"Please tell me you hear that?" She whispered. She had no idea why she whispered. It just felt the right thing to do.

He nodded, "What is it?"

"Magic," She ran her tongue over her lips where they were cracking. It felt like every nerve was on edge, "Footprints of ancient magic. It's so strong here."

It felt like the words were bleeding from the walls, dripping from the dusty ceiling, bubbling up from the floor beneath their feet.

They came at last to a door that had been sealed. The broken medjay were fewer here but there were still plenty scattered around the chamber.

"Revelio," Bill whispered as he raised his wand, "We need to be careful here. Something tells me this is as far as we were ever meant to go."

"Agreed," She raised her own wand and scanned the room. It was impossible to tell where there might be curses or enchantments. The magic lingering was so strong it was hard to tell what spells might still be active.

Cautiously, she approached the door.

The wall above it burst into flames.

She jumped back with a cry of surprise. In a heartbeat Bill was alongside her, his wand at the ready.

The fire had formed itself into words, ancient Egyptian that Aoife could barely read. Bill though had gone pale as he read the words aloud:

"A warning to those who trespass here,

To take back something they must fear.

You walk in the steps of he who is gone,

The hero of days that lie with the dawn.

The darkness awoken must never return,

Else all is lost, and the lands will burn.

What is forgotten stays in the past,

Think you who enter, it will be your last."

His words echoed into silence.

"Bill," Aoife felt the tenseness in her arms, in her shoulders, "What the feck happened here?"

"I don't know," He gulped aloud, "I'm not sure I want to know."

She remembered what she had told Aldergrove, feck it felt like years ago now,

"This is their first line of defence after all; superstition and fear."

This was different. It was a warning, almost a plea not to enter, as if the spellcasters were begging them to go no further. It was like Asim's tomb all over again; their only desire had been for these words to endure.

"What do we do?" Bill's voice broke the silence.

Aoife could feel that crushing feeling in her chest again, a growing darkness that was making it hard to breath. She wanted to go. She wanted to turn and pretend she had never found it. Even deep in her heart she knew the truth though.

"If we found it," She spoke slowly. She didn't trust herself to go any faster, "Others will too. What if Dumbledore tells someone?"

Bill's mouth set in a hardline, "We can't leave it here, not with Volez so close."

"Whatever's here, we can't let Volez get it," She nodded. There was another long hesitation before she spoke again, "It's better if you wait here."

"What?" He spun to face her, "Are you out of your mind? I can't let you face whatever's in there alone!"

"Bill," She gave him a pleading look, trying to fight off that crushing darkness in her chest, the pain down her side, "Please. I can't go through it again."

His expression softened at once and he took her hand in his and squeezed, "It won't happen again. I promise."

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She could feel the thoughts battle in her mind, in her heart; she did not want him to risk this. But she did not want to face this alone.

"Okay," She said at long last, "Are you ready?"

He raised his wand, "Ready."

"On the count of three; one, two, three; Reducto!"

She shouted this at the same time Bill shouted, "Alohamora!"

The doors were blown aside in a cloud of dust and smoke. Both turned their heads away as the stale, rotten air rushed past them and into the passageway.

Only once it had settled did Bill look up and brush the dust from his jacket, "I think we have very different methods of working, you and I."

"Mine worked better though, didn't it," She smiled as she stepped in through the door, wand-tip glowing.

The room within was plain, almost boring in comparison to the lurid colours of the top floors. The whispering had only grown more intense as they stepped through. At the far end was another door.

Across they walked, wands raised as they checked for any signs of spells or curses. There were none. At least not until they had passed the half-way point of the room. A voice boomed out, loud and commanding and Aoife thought she must have jumped a foot in the air.

Bill had tensed visibly, and he frowned at the words, "'State your purpose' is what I think he's asking."

"Do you think he'll accept, 'we're just here for a nosey' by any chance?"

He did not get a chance to answer. The voice gave an anguished howl more like that of a wounded animal.

Something whistled past Aoife's nose.

"It's a trap!" She shouted as she raised her wand, "Protego!"

The word had barely left her mouth before she felt something strike her barrier and bounce away. The whistling noises flew in every direction as if they were in the middle of a hailstorm.

"Run!" Bill called as he cast his own barrier.

They ran for the door. It was stone, thick and closed. Another volley of projectiles bounced off Aoife's shield. Bill examined the door while Aoife put her back to him, wand raised.

"It's locked!"

"No fecking kidding!" She snarled as she whipped her wand this way and that. There were so many, coming from every direction. Each time she cast the protective charm, she felt it grow weaker "Just blow it apart!"

"It's too thick for that!" Bill's voice came from behind her, "Hold on, there's writing here. Let me see if I can read it."

"Oh no worries! Take your time! I insist!" She hissed the last word as one of the objects pierced her barrier and buried itself in the wall over her shoulder. She saw it was a metal dart, dripping in feck-knew-what.

Bill didn't answer. He was murmuring to himself, reading the words over and over again. Another dart missed him by inches, passing through his ponytail.

"I've got it!" He tapped the door with his wand and shouted aloud, "Ki'ib!"

At the same time, he grabbed Aoife, just as she felt her spell falter. It was as if she had been hooked around the middle and yanked backwards. She passed through the door and landed with a thump on the other side.

"Ow?" She said, rubbing her back and glaring up at Bill who had scrambled to his feet, "What the feck was that?"

"Egyptian riddle," He was panting but he looked pleased with himself, as he helped her to her feet, "All I had to do was speak the word 'friend' and it let us through."

"And how do we get back?"

"No idea."

"They didn't think these doors through very well, did they?"

"I think they knew exactly what they were doing."

"The only way is forward then?"

"The only way is forward."

It was another chamber not dissimilar to the first. The whispering was even more intense here, making it difficult for Aoife to think of little else. There was a black basalt statue in each corner, each as large as Aoife herself: a lion, a leopard, a cheetah, and a jaguar.

"Wait," Bill frowned as he looked in each corner, "A jaguar? Those aren't native to Egypt. They're not native to Africa at all."

"I like how that's the most pressing thing in your head right now," Aoife rolled her eyes, "Come on. Let's have a look at these doors."

The doors were made of bronze, stretching to the ceiling. The hieroglyphs written on their surface spoke of great deeds but gave no indication of how they opened.

"Reducto?" Aoife suggested, tapping her lip with her wand.

Bill gave her an exasperated look, "Can we try to get through this without blowing the greatest find in history to pieces?"

"Alright, but I'm getting jumpy here and when I get jumpy, things explode."

Bill leant down to examine the door and Aoife watched over his shoulder with arms folded.

She felt more than heard something behind her.

She spun on the spot. The lion had been creeping silently closer. Now it was just a few feet behind her. It sprang up at her as surely as any living creature. It's muscles of stone were tensed. It's eyes gleamed like jewels.

"Arresto Momentum!" She shouted in panic.

The lion's leap slowed until it was all but floating. With a whip of her wand, Aoife sent it flying back into the far wall with a heavy crash.

Bill had turned at the sound. He aimed for the leopard that had been slinking along the wall towards him, "Stupefy!"

The spell bounced off its nose and hit the wall.

"Really?" Aoife was watching the cheetah as it rushed from its corner. Feck, it was fast, "Reducto!"

It jumped up onto the wall to avoid the spell, claws digging into the stone. It leapt off in a single graceful motion while Aoife stared in shock.

"Protego!" Bill's voice echoed in the chamber. The cheetah bounced off the barrier and fell back to the ground.

Aoife locked eyes with the leopard that was rearing up at Bill's back with wicked claws extended.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The leopard rose into the air, impotent and harmless. Bill pushed it back into the lion and both statues smashed to pieces. Aoife waved her wand and sent the cheetah into the rubble where it too shattered.

Silence fell upon the room. Silence but for the heavy breathing of both Aoife and Bill.

"You okay?" Bill still had his wand raised.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah," His eyes narrowed as he scanned the room, "Where's the jaguar?"

"Dunno," Aoife was straining her eyes as she tried to see into the dark corners. Where was it? She tried to listen for footsteps. All she could hear was her own breathing.

It happened in a flash.

Aoife did not see it, not really. She saw a shape out of the corner of her eye. It was too quick. She had no time to defend herself. Claws tore her jacket and bit deep into her arm. Aoife fell back with a cry as pain bust up into her shoulder and down into her fingertips. Her hand came across to the wound. She felt the warm blood seeping through her fingers. The jaguar stood over her; massive, stone shoulders tensing as it raised a paw the size of her head. Its claws were like daggers and red with her blood.

"Reducto!" The jaguar burst above her. Aoife turned away. She screwed her face as she was showered in fragments of basalt.

Bill knelt beside her. His face had gone very pale, "Aoife! Are you okay?"

"Superb," She managed through clenched teeth. The pain was growing, hot and raw.

Bill was rummaging in his pockets with shaking hands. He pulled out a vial.

"Here," He took her hand and ignored her curse of protest. He poured its green contents into the wound.

Aoife bucked and kicked against him. She was unable to keep the moan of pain from escaping her lips. Gradually though, the pain began to lessen as if the heat was being dowsed. She looked down. Through the tattered sleeve she could see the deep scars, but they had healed over with skin. It was pink and raw but was clean.

"Wiggenweld potion," Bill wiped the sweat from his pale face, "I got some after our encounter with Volez at Pavone's mansion. I thought it might come in handy."

Aoife tried her arm. It was still stiff and a little sore but usable. She had taken worse bludger hits, "I fecking hate Curse Breaking, did I ever tell you that?"

Bill smiled but he still looked worried as they both turned to the door. There was another long silence.

"My way?" Aoife asked.

"Your way," Bill nodded.

They raised their wands together and with a great grinding protest, they drew open.

The chamber within was the largest yet. The first thing that struck Aoife though was the sunlight that poured in along with the roar of water. An island had been built in the centre of a lake, the water teal and smooth. A waterfall poured down the back wall of the chamber while stone sphinxes stood guard in each corner. The whispering was more intense here than ever, battling the noise of the waterfall for their attention. In the centre of the room was a raised dais with a stone table. All Aoife could smell was salt.

They had crept halfway across when the water began to bubble.

Both stopped dead. Aoife stared down at it with a frown, wand held steady.

"What?" The water was starting to glow, brighter and brighter. Without thinking, she grabbed Bill and dragged him to the ground.

It was just in time.

A hissing ball of fire shot from the water and hit the ceiling with a crash. Worked marble rained to the ground in fine dust.

Aoife scrambled to her feet just as a great head breached the water. It was that of a snake with scales of yellow and a long, forked tongue. A second followed it, red-scaled and white-eyed.

Both heads towered over the pair, hissing as their tongues tasted the air.

Aoife had to crane her neck to see both snakes, "Any ideas?"

The red-scaled snake drew itself up. As opened its mouth, it released a ball of rolling orange fire. Bill and Aoife scattered as the ball hit their walkway with a crash and bounced up into the far wall with a rumbling explosion.

"Stupefy!" Bill shot back from the floor. The yellow-scaled snake weaved easily around the spell while the red drew in breath through its nostrils. When it opened its mouth, a fork of lightning shot straight at Aoife.

Aoife rolled away as it struck the ground at her hip. She felt her hairs stand on end.

"Obscuro!" She shouted, pointing at the red-scaled snake. A large bandage wrapped itself around the snake's eyes. It stopped in confusion, shaking its head furiously. The yellow-scaled snake responded with another ball wreathed in flame.

Aoife was barely able to spin out of the way and she felt the heat of it on her skin as it shot up into the ceiling.

"Reducto!" Bill called. Again, the snake easily dodged the spell as it turned its head back to him. He had managed to climb to his feet but had to dive to the ground as it passed over his head, scorching his ponytail.

"We can't hit them!" Bill called as he rolled away from another fireball.

"Doesn't seem so!" Aoife hissed furiously as she put her hands over her head. A bolt of lightning passed above her, missing by inches.

"What do we do then? Protego!" Bill barely got the spell up before another ball of flame struck him and sent him flying backwards.

The red-scaled snake had weaved close to the yellow-scaled snake as it tried to shake off the blindfold. It was still raining lightning down on them as its ally shot fireball after fireball. They were too quick, too slippery and Aoife knew she and Bill couldn't keep rolling and dodging forever.

An idea came to Aoife's mind, a ridiculous idea, but when had that ever stopped her before.

Raising her wand, she pointed not at the snakes but to the ceiling, "Incarcerous!"

Ropes shot from her wand towards the snakes. Both weaved to avoid the initial rope but they wrapped themselves around not one but both. They came together with a crash and hissed furiously. The yellow-scaled snake another furious fireball at Aoife.

This time she did not dodge. She did not roll away. Instead, she raised her wand and took a deep breath, "Protego!"

The flame bounced off her spell but knocked Aoife to the ground with a pained cry. Though gasping for air, she pointed her wand at the speeding fireball and wheezed, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

She directed her wand, bringing the fireball around not to the snakes but the ceiling above them. It hit the roof and burst, the whole structure rumbling as heavy stone and boulders fell onto the snakes. They hissed in pain as they were struck and disappeared beneath the water.

After the intensity of the battle, the silence was jarring. Bill was climbing shakily to his feet. There was blood running down his arm.

"Bill!" She scrambled up, voice still weak and rushed to him. It was a cut on his shoulder, not from the snakes but from the debris. There was the unmistakeable smell of burnt hair and clothing from him, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," He managed breathlessly, "That was brilliant, Aoife."

She waved away the compliment, eyes fixed on his wound, "Is it bad?"

"I don't reckon so, I was just slow." He pulled out another veil of wiggenweld potion and poured it on the injury, "Do you think we got rid of them?"

"I hope so, they'll have a hell of a headache if not."

Bill laughed and the sound echoed in the chamber.

Together, they turned their eyes to the centre of the chamber, to the dais and the stone table.

"What is it?" Bill frowned as they approached, wands still raised, "It's not a sarcophagus, is it?"

"I don't think so," Aoife was squinting, trying to make it out.

There were hieroglyphics written around the dais. Figures bowing before a towering man with a crown on his head and staff in his hand. Another showed him before a tall obelisk. He was standing in front of a golden flame that had something hovering over it. Above it were words even she could read; "I am but a servant of the golden fire."

And atop the table was a broach.

They stopped and stared. Aoife frowned. It wasn't even a particularly nice broach. It looked to be made of cheap metal in the shape of a half-moon with a star in the crescent.

"Surely to god," She said slowly, "All of this, everything we've fought past, wasn't just for this wee thing?"

"It can't have been," Bill shook his head, "Maybe someone else got here before us."

"You think someone else was stupid enough to go past those traps?" She asked. She could feel her frustration growing, her anger. All this danger and all the risk they had taken, and for what? For this pointless thing?

As they approached the table, there was a deep and ominous rumble. They spun in every direction, wands raised to find its source.

"Look!" Bill pointed with his wand, "The waterfall!"

It was flexing, streaks of colour appearing in the gushing water. It was as if someone had poured oil into it from the top and it was now flowing down. Only it was moving slowly, like treacle. It began to curve, forming letters, forming words.

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.

"I've seen this before," Aoife frowned, "I've seen this exact warning."

"Indeed, you have," Came a voice from behind them, "And you should have taken its advice."