Chapter 212: Splitting Up, and Satan on the Mural
Isaac, clutching a white plastic bag, knocked on the door to Cyril's room. After hearing Isaac's account, Cyril could barely contain his frustration. "Let me get this straight. You went out to buy a few drinks, got mugged, and then Stunned the Muggles who tried to rob you. Is that correct?"
"That's right. They came at me with knives. I gave them all my cash, but they still wanted my Undetectable Extension Charm bag. I had no choice. I Stunned them all."
Cyril was speechless. At a critical moment like this, this kind of nonsense had to happen. He had no idea when the Egyptian Ministry of Magic might get wind of the incident, but it was certain that the Muggles who had witnessed Isaac's magic would attract the Ministry's attention.
Cyril paced the room, agitated, trying to formulate a response.
"The temporary bags we made with the Undetectable Extension Charm. We need to get rid of them," Ethan said, immediately thinking of the illegal items they had distributed.
Cyril stopped pacing, his expression grim. "Yes, that's the first priority. Isaac, go and get Nadim, Robert, and the other two. We need to dispose of those bags first. Then I need to think about how to handle this situation in a way that minimizes the damage to us."
Strictly speaking, the incident was Isaac's alone. He was the one who had cast the spells, and none of the others had even been present. The consequences for Isaac himself were unlikely to be severe; it was a clear case of self-defense. At most, he would face questioning from the Egyptian authorities. Once his story was verified with Veritaserum, they would likely Obliviate the Muggles and release him.
But Cyril couldn't be certain that the Egyptian Ministry wouldn't drag the rest of them into the inquiry as well. None of them had criminal records, but being questioned would severely restrict their movements. Cyril had rushed his discharge from St. Mungo's after only three days of treatment precisely to save time finding the lost pyramid. If they got tangled up in this bureaucratic mess, it would undoubtedly delay their carefully planned schedule.
*Only one more location left to check. Is everything going to be held up for days because of this?* Cyril felt a surge of frustration.
After Isaac had left the room, Ethan said to Cyril, "Grandfather, I need to tell Professor Snape about this. Since he checked in at this inn, the Egyptian Ministry might consider him part of our group. And their attitude toward British wizards is far from friendly."
"Yes, go. Please convey my apologies to him." Cyril felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't even had the chance to properly express his gratitude, and now he was dragging the man into potential trouble.
When Ethan entered the room, Snape had already changed and was preparing for bed. Ethan apologized profusely. "Professor, there's been an incident involving one of our people outside. It might affect you."
"Oh?" Snape looked at Ethan with a flat, unreadable expression.
Ethan quickly explained what had happened. Snape's expression darkened. Though he was unlikely to be directly implicated, the Egyptian Ministry's goodwill toward British wizards was questionable at best. They could use the incident as a pretext to confine him to the area for several days, forbidding him to leave. And he had important business the following day, a meeting he couldn't miss. If the Ministry restricted him here, his plans would be ruined.
Ethan caught Snape's displeased expression and quickly apologized. "I'm very sorry, Professor. So, what will you do? Will you go along with our plan, dispose of any questionable items, and wait to see what happens, or will you leave now?"
"I'm leaving. Now." Snape's reply was immediate and firm. He looked at Ethan and offered some advice. "And I suggest you do the same. Leave only the one who actually cast the spells. You said yourself, the Egyptian Ministry has no patience for British wizards. Do you think they'll be any friendlier to the French? Give them a chance to cause a little trouble, and they won't pass it up. You mentioned you're here seeking treasure. Do you imagine that if the Egyptians learn your true purpose, they'll simply let you walk away?"
"I understand." Ethan had considered this possibility. But Isaac was a companion, and leaving him alone to face the music felt wrong. Yet Snape's logic was sound. Ethan found himself leaning toward leaving Isaac behind while the rest of them made a swift departure. "I'll tell Grandfather. He's probably already thinking along the same lines."
Snape had already packed his belongings. After a final glance around to ensure he had left nothing behind, he said, "I'm off."
"Goodbye, Professor." Ethan watched Snape leave, then returned to his own room. The room was now crowded with everyone.
Cyril had already briefed them on the situation. A heavy silence hung in the air as they all waited for Cyril's decision. Isaac sat alone on the edge of one of the beds, his head bowed, looking deeply contrite.
But inwardly, he was rejoicing. *This will cause me some trouble, yes. But it will also slow them down. It should buy enough time for Gis and the others to arrive. Then, working together from inside and out, we can take them both down in one decisive strike!*
Ethan stepped inside, crossed to Cyril, and murmured something in his ear.
"Wait here a moment. I need to step out." Cyril and Ethan retreated to the room Snape had just left, casting Muffliato so they could speak privately.
"Snape mentioned that, did he? It matches what I was thinking." Cyril set down his cup. "Isaac may be our strongest fighter, but you said he's been acting strangely. I had already been considering how to separate him from the group on legitimate grounds. This incident gives me the perfect excuse. I worry the others might resent it, but if we pay them well enough, they'll understand."
"If it comes to it, we can leave someone else behind. I don't need that much protection. We've been in the desert for two days and nothing has happened. Even if we do encounter danger, I can handle myself. You've seen my Animagus form. A red dragon nearly thirty meters long. Who could possibly harm me?"
Cyril nodded. Recalling Ethan's observations about the cracks in Nadim's soul, he made a swift decision. "Yes, there's only one location left. We should be able to manage without a local translator. I'll leave Nadim behind as well, to act as Isaac's translator."
When they opened the door, they could hear faint voices from their room. It sounded like Noé and Mael were asking Isaac what it had felt like. But at the sound of their footsteps, silence fell once more.
Once inside, Cyril addressed Isaac. "Isaac, as you know, we came to Egypt for an important purpose, and our time is limited, so it seems you'll have to stay here for now. But don't worry, I'll leave Nadim with you. You won't have to struggle with the language barrier. And my promise to you still stands. You'll receive your full share, down to the last Knut."
"Ah, this..." Isaac was stunned. From everything Cyril had told him, and since he was the most powerful member of their group, he should have been the last person left behind. *This wasn't how it was supposed to go!* he wailed internally.
"I'd feel much better staying with the group. Ethan needs protection too," he said, making one last attempt.
Cyril clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. No need to feel bad. I'm confident Noé and the others can protect Ethan. And with Nadim there, the Egyptian Ministry shouldn't give you too much trouble. Just think of it as a little enforced vacation."
"Robert, Noé, Mael, go pack your things. We're leaving immediately. We'll camp in the desert. It should only be a few more days now. And when we return to Britain, I'll add another third to each of your payments."
"Thank you, Boss!"
Even Noé and the others, who had been a little envious of Isaac's apparent good fortune, brightened at this.
"Nadim, Isaac, stay a moment. I have a few more words for you."
The other three filed out to pack.
"Nadim, once we're gone, find a way to report this incident to the Egyptian Ministry. We don't want the Muggles waking up and creating an even bigger mess. Once Isaac's matter is resolved, take him back to Semkhet. We should return there once we're finished on our end. If not, we'll send word. And your promised payment will, of course, be waiting for you."
"Understood." He was quite pleased. Getting paid to do nothing was a rare treat.
Cyril took the flying carpet from Nadim and then dismissed him. They had their own packing to do.
The innkeeper, who had been waiting in the lobby for late-arriving guests, watched in bewilderment as the large group that had just checked in filed back down the stairs and out the door. To prevent being tracked by owl post, Cyril renewed the Shielding Charms on each of them. Once clear of the town, they boarded the flying carpet and raced toward their final destination.
After a moment's thought, Nadim also left the inn, heading for a discreet house in the town that was connected to the Floo Network.
"Gis, you have to hurry! Please, hurry! If you don't, it will all be for nothing."
Standing by the window, Isaac clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
After more than two hours of flight, Ethan and the others touched down over a hundred kilometers away from the town. And at that very moment, Gis and his group, having just received Isaac's latest message, were mounting their broomsticks to depart. However, because Isaac himself did not know the precise location of the town, he had been forced to simply spell the name phonetically in French. To help them further, he had described their flight path from their original departure point. And just as Isaac had feared, the innkeeper in Semkhet had no idea where this town was. Gis and his party were left with no choice but to begin a slow, painstaking search.
"Hurry up! I don't want to arrive late and miss them again!" Gis yelled over the rush of wind, urging his unseen companions onward.
"Your brooms are faster than ours! We're flying flat out and we still can't keep up! Stop your shouting!" snarled Saphir, the leader of the dark-cloaked wizards. As wanted fugitives living hand-to-mouth, they could scarcely afford the latest racing brooms. If they had that kind of money, would they be robbing and killing their way across borders?
Gis, his face flushed with anger at the retort, was saved from embarrassment only by the Disillusionment Charm that hid him from view.
"Morning." Ethan pushed open the tent flap at dawn and greeted Mael, who had drawn the last watch of the night.
"Morning. I'm going to catch a few winks. Skip me for breakfast. Just wake me when we're ready to move." Yawning, Mael retreated into the room that was now his alone.
"Go ahead and sleep. We're not moving today. This is our final destination."
That's right. The previous night, Cyril had decided to fly directly to their target area to avoid the hassle of breaking and setting up camp.
"Even better." A tired smile crossed Mael's face as he disappeared inside.
With Noé and Robert standing guard, Ethan and Cyril began their day's search. It did not take long for Ethan to get a result.
"The area we detected is enormous. Did we actually find it?!"
As Ethan moved around, tracing the boundaries of the response, his excitement grew. "It's got to be at least a hundred meters across! There's definitely a large structure down there!"
He quickly fetched Cyril from the other side of the search grid. The more spells they cast, the more energized they felt.
"Start digging. I have a strong feeling this is it." Cyril's voice was rough with barely contained emotion.
They roused the sleeping Mael. All five of them lined up along the perimeter of the indicated area and began casting Defodio at full power. This time, they were excavating a massive pit. But as the hole deepened, disappointment washed over Cyril and Ethan once more. It was not the pyramid they sought, but the buried ruins of a collapsed church.
"It's a Coptic church. Probably built about a thousand years ago," Cyril said, identifying the structure immediately.
"A false alarm." Ethan's shoulders slumped.
"It might still be worth excavating. Back when this was built, Egypt was under significant European influence. The priest of such a church could well have been a wizard. There might be records of some interesting spells inside."
Though he shared Ethan's disappointment, Cyril offered words of encouragement. "Fine," Ethan agreed, though his enthusiasm was clearly diminished. The bulk of the digging fell to Noé and the others, who still hoped to find something of value.
After an hour of work, they had uncovered only a small portion of the church. But on one section of the exposed wall, Cyril found a mural of immense significance. He sent the other three off to dig elsewhere, leaving only himself and Ethan standing before the ancient painting.
The mural depicted two figures locked in a standoff. One was a priest, wearing pristine white robes, his expression resolute. The other was a man with golden hair and black eyes, horns sprouting from his head, dressed in black robes and wearing a mocking smirk.
With trembling hands, Cyril cast Muffliato. Then, his composure cracking, he exclaimed, "Ethan! A clue! A critically important clue!"
He carefully cleared away the rubble and broken columns that partially obscured the lower portion of the mural and began to read the faded, intricate script with intense focus. The more he read, the more his hands shook.
"Grandfather, what does it say?" Ethan urged.
"A monumental discovery! A monumental discovery!" Cyril repeated, his voice shaking.
When he had finally calmed down enough to speak, he explained the painting to Ethan. "This painting is titled 'In the Light of God, Kyrillos Confronts Satan.' It depicts a standoff between the church priest, Kyrillos, and a man who called himself Satan. The inscription says this man, who claimed the name of Satan, came here seeking a lost pyramid. You must understand, the Coptic Orthodox Church is a branch of Christianity. Their deep hostility toward a figure like Satan, the devil of biblical lore, is absolute. So they confronted him. But this self-proclaimed Satan did not fight. He simply withdrew. Kyrillos attributed his retreat to the power of God's holy name, and so this painting and its accompanying story were created."
Ethan listened, his astonishment growing with each word, until his eyes widened. "Satan! Is this the original source of our bloodline? Or was this one of our ancestors who visited Egypt back then and deliberately adopted that name?"
"We can't say for certain yet. But the pyramid mentioned in this story... it has to be the one we're looking for. If we can find it, all the mysteries will finally be solved." Cyril's voice trembled with barely contained excitement.
"Forget the rest of the dig. We're leaving now. The place he described is no more than ten kilometers from here. We're going right now!"
Cyril carefully tucked the entire mural, now fully expanded, into his Undetectable Extension Charm bag, then called out to the others. They'd found nothing and were reluctant to leave, but they obeyed, climbing aboard the flying carpet.
*The pyramid! Here we come!* Ethan's heart raced with anticipation, his excitement stirred by the ancient painting.
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