Aoife and Bill appeared with a pop in a back street of the Bazaar. The first thing to hit Aoife was the noise of the busy streets beyond, the normal hustle and bustle of the markets.

The second thing to hit her was the pain.

She let go of Bill's collar and dropped the golden Eye to the ground with a clatter. She leant against the wall, holding her left hand in her right, eyes closed.

"Aoife," She heard Bill get to his feet, voice shaky, "Are you okay?"

"Just fecking dandy," She managed through hissed teeth, "Never felt better."

"Let me see," There were footsteps getting close to her. She heard something scrape on the ground before she sensed Bill directly in front of her, "Please?"

Aoife held her hand away protectively but after a few long seconds, she extended it and dropped her right hand to her side.

She heard Bill suck in air through his teeth, "It's a bad burn."

"Oh, and there was me thinking it was a broken kneecap."

He sighed but carried on, "I can't heal it. We need to get you to the Mustashfaa."

Aoife groaned.

"Wonderful, I don't know what's in more pain, me or my gold purse," she said with her teeth starting to chatter. She was wet, she was sore, the alley in which they stood was entirely in the shade and it felt like the day's heat had never touched the cobbles.

Bill tucked his wand into one pocket and the Eye of Ra into the other. He took hold of Aoife's good arm and turned on the spot.

They reappeared with a pop just outside a decrepit hotel that looked like it had been abandoned for decades, if not centuries. Aoife had tucked her hand under her armpit, if only because she couldn't think what else to do with the increasing pain. They walked up to the rusted and broken revolving doors and pushed.

The doors did not revolve. Instead, the pair fell through them as though they were curtains and into the brightly lit, sandstone hall. Aoife was hit at once by the cool air, the strong scent of incense, the babble and bustle of a busy building. Their footsteps rang out on the mosaiced tiles beneath them, showing all manner of creatures. Several witches and wizards sat behind a wide, marble desk dealing with the queues of new arrivals.

The man directly in front was tapping his foot in irritation, one hand on the desk and his other arm entirely consumed with a brown snake.

"Attacked by a Saharan Swallowing Snake?" Asked the wizard behind the desk.

The man waved his snake impatiently.

"Very well, floor three please. Next," He scribbled something on the parchment before him and looked up to smile at Aoife and Bill, "ʿarabī? Français? Türkçe? Elliniká? English?"

"English," said Bill.

"Very good sir, what can we do for you today?"

Aoife rolled her eyes, "We're looking to get married please."

"Aoife!" Bill hissed, "It's my friend. She's been burned."

"Let me see please," With some reluctance, Aoife held up her charred fingers, "I see. Is it a magical burn?"

"Yes," Bill nodded, "There was…an accident."

"Very well," The healer made a note on his parchment, "Please head up to the fourth floor. Next!"

He had already turned his attention to the witch behind them and the small boy who appeared to have sprouted antlers.

Through the hustle and bustle they moved, Aoife breathing hard now as the pain grew within her hand. She could no longer unclench her fist, the skin blistering and bubbling as if it were still burning.

It was a trip up a golden lift with another poor man whose entire head had gone red and a girl with a burned arm. They were ushered into side rooms by a friendly witch at the entrance while Aoife was shown into one of the offices.

The healer within was rather elderly with a long and bushy moustache that drooped to either side of his pointy chin.

"Sit," He looked up from his desk as Aoife entered and gestured to the spare chair. Aoife sat and Bill stood behind her, "What happened?"

"I punched a dragon. This looks bad but you should see what he's like."

"Aoife," Bill shook his head as the healer raised his caterpillar-like eyebrows, "She was trying to touch a metal tray when it was hit by a spell."

"May I see?" The healer waited as Aoife heaved a deep sigh and let him examine her throbbing hand, "It is a bad burn. The damage is quite extensive so I do not believe a healing spell will cure it. Given your condition, we will need to brew a special potion. You will need to stay a few nights."

"Oh, the joys," Aoife sighed. She made sure to completely ignore the reference to her condition. Please, don't let Bill have noticed, "I hope you've bought a few new books since I was last here."

The Healer ignored her. He was writing on a piece of parchment which he then tore off and handed to Aoife, "Give this to the healer outside this door."

He wrote into a thick book which Aoife recognised as her file. When he was done, he rolled it up and placed it into a tube which promptly snatched it out of sight.

"Have a pleasant day," he said with his eyes down at his next file.

"Not fecking likely, but cheers all the same."

It was not until they were outside that Bill cleared his throat, "What did he mean by 'your condition'?"

"Feck, I don't know," Aoife felt her stomach plummet but chose to go on the attack, waving her aching hand in his face, "I have absolutely no idea."

"But he said a standard restorative potion wouldn't work?"

"Just drop it," The witch at the lift smiled as they approached. Once they had explained what the healer had instructed, she led Aoife off to one of the side rooms further down the corridor.

It was much like the rest of the Mustashfaa; a tiled floor with the mosaic of a lion's head, tall sandstone columns and walls painted white with red lining. It was a pleasant look and, most of all, cool. The large mashrabiya allowed light to pour in and the room seemed to gleam. There were a few other beds in the room; two occupied by people who were sleeping and a third behind a curtain.

Bill waited outside the curtain as Aoife changed with the healer, hissing in pain as she took her jacket off over her hand. Once she was in the bed, Bill reappeared.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

"Oh yeah," her voice was sarcastic but in truth it was a nice change from the solid slab that was her normal bed, "I'm in sheer bliss here."

The healer finished tucking her in, "I will be back shortly. It will take a few days before your potion is ready, but we can use some murtlap essence to help with the pain and stop the spread in the meantime."

It was only once she was gone that Bill sat down beside her and pulled the Eye from his pocket.

"Wow," he said, as it caught the light of the chandelier and gleamed.

"Wow," Aoife agreed as she examined it. She wished she could read the inscription around the ruby, but it was outside of her skill. She felt that familiar thrill at the tingle of ancient magic that ran down her arm, "It's heavier than I thought."

"Must be that ruby in the centre," Bill was shaking his head, "It must be worth an absolute fortune. I can't imagine how much Prodis paid for it."

"Probably less than he's going to pay to redecorate his house," She sighed. She was trying not to see the image of Bill being caught in the chest by the spell, of his flying out of sight, that momentary panic of not knowing where he was, if he was hurt, "Cracking timing from Volez though, I wonder how they found it."

"Probably the same way we did, just read the papers."

"I didn't know they could read," She shook her head, "Well, that was easy. What's next?"

"I don't know," Bill frowned and rubbed his chin, "I think we need to start looking; journals, articles, newspapers, any sales of Egyptian artefacts."

"Oh, more research," Aoife felt her excitement drain away at the thought, "I suppose there's no chance we'll find the other one in the Daily Prophet?"

"It might be a little optimistic, yes," There was a momentary pause, as if Bill was weighing up something, "You did well at Pavone's, to get it. I should have been ready for them to attack."

She shrugged, then winced as her hand brushed the bedsheet, "When you've been attacked as often as I have, you get used to it," She paused as well, a momentary hesitation. Some defensive barrier came up in her mind at the same time as the thought, trying to keep her from saying it. She sighed deeply, "I'm glad you're okay though."

"Me too," Bill smiled as a voiced boomed through the room magically magnified.

"Visiting time is over. All visitors please depart."

"That's my cue, I suppose," Bill looked back at her with some reluctance.

"I'll be grand," She gave him a smile that turned into a grimace, "It's like staying in a luxury hotel. Costs as much as one too."

He laughed, then glanced down at the Eye she was still holding, "Do you want to keep it?"

Again she hesitated. If she kept it then she knew where it was, knew it would be safe. More importantly, she knew Bill would be safe, that she would be the target of Volez and not him. She felt that crushing blackness in her chest once again, "Yeah go on, it'll keep me from going insane with the boredom."

"Okay," Bill stood, "I'll see you this evening. I'll let you know as soon as I find anything."

"Yeah, me too. Not that I expect to find anything mind you," She gave him a grin as he left. As soon as he was gone, her face fell and she settled back into the pillow. She went back to examining the Eye, turning it over again and again as she enjoyed the beauty. It was only when she heard some footsteps in the corridor outside that she tucked it under her bed.

It was an afternoon of perfect boredom, broken only by the healer who arrived to dip her hand in murtlap essence. She said it would help, but it sure as feck didn't feel like it, and Aoife had to bite her lip to keep from crying out as the slimy liquid was applied. After another few hours it had actually taken the edge away, loath as she was to admit it.

She must have dozed off then for it was sometime later that she was aware of a figure above her. At first, she thought it must be Bill, as they were surely getting close to the evening visiting time again but the figure that was silhouetted against the sinking sun was far too broad to be the Weasley. As he approached though, she recognised the blonde crew cut and pencil moustache. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart began to beat furiously. She clenched with her uninjured hand around the Eye under the cover.

Antonius Vorona took a seat next to her. His eyes were a steely blue and emotionless, his expression blank but cool. He had one hand inside his jacket already. Aoife's wand was sitting on the bedside table. She had no hope of reaching it.

"You fought well," He said in a gravelly voice and her hairs stood on end, "To recover from such a disadvantage is impressive."

"Thank you for the compliment," Aoife said though her mouth had gone very dry, "I'll be sure to take note when it's made by someone who's opinion I actually give a feck about."

Vorona's mouth set in a hard line, but he seemed determined to press on, "You would do well at Volez. Your skills would suit our methods very well."

"Because I'm not a total tool like the rest of you?"

His free hand clenched but he remained civil, "You are involved with powers you cannot comprehend. You would do well to get behind us or to stand aside."

"What, you clowns? I'll take my chances, thanks."

Vorona took a deep breath, "I know that you have the Eye. You would do well to hand it over."

Aoife snorted, "You think I would be stupid enough to keep it here? We've given it to someone who we trust, someone who can keep it safe."

Vorona took a long time to answer; "You are lying. If you do not have it, then your companion does. We can find him and ask the same questions."

Her heart sank, that crushing darkness began pressing in to her again. Her reply was breathless, "No, he doesn't have it."

"Then you do," Vorona's eyes had lit up maliciously, "You will return it."

"To Pavone? Sure. Or do you mean to Asim?"

This time the Volez Cursebreaker made no attempt to hide his anger. Aoife felt her chest tighten further but that defiance rose up within her, the devilment from being cornered, "Your cheek wears thin on my patience and I am not a man with much patience."

"Much like your intelligence then."

He gave an ugly scowl, "I am going to enjoy this, you b-"

"Is there a problem here?"

Aoife and Vorona both whipped around.

Tobias Harpham stood at the entrance to the ward. His hands clasped in front of him. Tall, thin but radiating power despite his civility. Even though his stance was relaxed, there was an edge to his voice, a sharpness she had not heard before.

"Moran," He took a step forward, "Is this man troubling you?"

Vorona had paused with his wand half out of his jacket. He was regarding Harpham with wariness, perhaps even fear. Even with the advantage of having his hand on his wand, the Volez man clearly did not fancy his chances against Egypt's greatest Curse Breaker.

"I suggest you leave," Harpham said with that same edge, "Before I call someone."

Vorona gave Aoife a long look, then hurried from the room.

Harpham waited until he was gone, glaring at his back with a look of definite anger before he turned back to Aoife, "Volez do so infuriate me. You can never rely on them, never." He checked her over, "He didn't hurt you?"

"He didn't get the chance, thankfully," Aoife's heart was still pounding in her chest and she could feel a cold sweat on her forehead. It was only then she realised she had been gripping the bedsheets so tightly that her fingers were cramping, "You timed it exceptionally well."

"A skill that one has picked up over many long and hard years," Harpham took a seat, examining Aoife shrewdly, "What did he want?"

"Nothing," She said at once, "He was just here to say hello and to be a prat. Just like Volez, you know."

"Indeed."

"Not to look a gift-horse in the mouth or anything but," She was staring at him, "Why are you here?"

Harpham sighed, "Prodis Pavone is a good friend of mine, he told me what happened. He said you protected him."

"Well," Aoife shrugged, though she was relieved that he wasn't hurt, "I was only doing the right thing."

"Not many in your position would have," He nodded, "But I am not surprised. Your mother was always the same."

Aoife frowned, "You know my ma?"

"Oh yes, indeed," Harpham smiled fondly, "I met Roisin many times as an auror during the times of You-Know-Who, both before she commanded the Irish Brigade and after. The Brigade under her was one of our most effective weapons against his followers. I knew your aunt as well," His face suddenly looked pained, "I was very sorry when she died."

"Yeah," Aoife looked away, feeling an ache in her heart like an old wound opening up again, "Most people were."

"She was a remarkable young woman, and her loss affected us all deeply," Harpham sighed heavily and shook his head, "You'll be pleased to know Pavone has not reported the incident to the authorities. He did not want the negative exposure before he begins touring in the autumn. He did not however," Harpham studied Aoife intently, "Tell me why you were there."

"To see his collection," She shrugged while meeting his eye, "There was nothing more to it."

"I see," Harpham frowned again, "Well, I'm glad you and Weasley were not seriously harmed."

He went to stand and as he did so, his jacket slipped ever so slightly and Aoife caught a glimpse of his necklace. It was a golden chain. At the end of the golden chain was an eye. It was made of woven golden threads. Set at its centre was a large, blue sapphire, perfectly round and smooth.

Aoife could only stare, dumbfounded.

"Are you alright?" Harpham was staring at her, "You've gone very pale. Do you need me to fetch a healer?"

"No," She said faintly, her mind racing, "Tobias, where did you get that necklace?"

"What? This?" He held it in his hand. It was near identical to the one Aoife had under the bedsheets. Of course, she remembered him wearing it now, just after the encounter at Ankhtifi's tomb. How had she missed it, "It was a gift from an old friend of mine, from one of his last tomb dives," He shrugged, "I assume it is of no great value as he told me it was little more than a trinket."

"Right," She nodded eagerly, "Any chance I could borrow it?"

"Borrow it?" Harpham frowned and placed his hand around the Eye, "Why would you wish to borrow it?"

She felt that guardedness rise up in her, that inherent wariness, "Oh, no real reason. I like it is all."

He considered this for a second, hand playing over the necklace before he shook his head, "I'm sorry, Moran. My mentor made me swear to take good care of it and I would be loath to part from it even for a moment." He sighed, "Of course, I rarely wear it out of Gringotts at all. Just that I was in a hurry to speak with Prodis and to help where I could."

"Oh, of course," Aoife bit back the disappointment and forced herself to smile, "No problem. Thanks for the visit anyway."

He turned and left with Aoife helpless to do anything but watch as the second Eye of Ra left with Egypt's most famous Curse Breaker.