The pedestal, now empty, began to sink into the ground with a grinding, stone-on-stone screech. The carvings on the walls flared violently, then dimmed to a dull red as the chamber's ancient stabilizing runes began to collapse.
"We have to move," Elias ordered, slipping the book into a reinforced pouch beneath his cloak.
The elves responded immediately. One flicked a protective barrier above their heads as bits of the ceiling began to fall. The other conjured a path of magical light to retrace their way out of the sanctum.
They ran.
But apparating was impossible—warded out, as they'd anticipated. The ancient magic of the tomb prevented any instantaneous magical travel, a safeguard against thieves and grave robbers.
They had to escape the old-fashioned way.
Stone cracked beneath their feet as they crossed the threshold back into the treasure vault. Empty now, the room had lost its power, its enchantments flickering out like candles in wind. A section of the ceiling collapsed behind them, sealing the path to the sanctum. The corridor back to the entrance trembled.
"Go! Now!" Elias urged.
Another tremor shook the floor, tossing them off balance. One of the elves caught Elias mid-stumble and levitated him ahead with a short burst of focused wind magic. The other raised his hands, whispering in Elvish. A runic shield emerged behind them to slow the collapsing hallway.
They passed into the spiral corridor—walls shuddering, stones splintering—and raced upward toward the first chamber where Elias had used the master key to enter.
They arrived just as the archway behind them began to crack.
The elves shoved Elias forward.
"Out! Out, now!"
Elias leapt through the final threshold, back into the main pyramid hall, just as the enchanted archway began to collapse behind them. The elves flung their arms up, and with a shout in their native tongue, they conjured a sealing spell.
Boom!
A blast of magical air whooshed outward, followed by a deep thud as the final gateway sealed shut.
The ground trembled once more—then fell quiet.
Dust settled. The last echo of crumbling rock faded into silence.
They had made it.
The elves quickly cast sound-dampening and dust-containment charms around the area. The final tremor hadn't been strong enough to alert nearby workers or muggles above—but it had come close.
"Chamber sealed," one elf said, his voice breathless
The elves bowed silently.
The hall behind them was now sealed forever. Whatever secrets it had once held were either lost… or now in Elias Blackthorn's hands.
The dust still hung thick in the air as Elias stood in the now-empty chamber, the echoes of collapsed stone and ancient magic still lingering faintly in the silence. He narrowed his eyes, gaze sweeping over every wall, corner, and engraving for the third time. The air had grown still again. Whatever lingering enchantments had once hummed beneath the stone were now lifeless.
Elias stepped toward the walls, brushing his hand slowly along the faded hieroglyphs. No shimmer of hidden wards. No resistance. Just cold, dusty stone.
He tapped his wand gently on one block—no sound but a dull thud. He checked behind one of the ancient statues in the corner, casting a revealing charm just in case. Nothing.
"Nothing else," he muttered under his breath, a slight frown forming on his face.
The master key had already proven its worth. The treasure chamber, the strange book now hidden safely inside his magically sealed pouch, and the near-disaster of the collapsing sanctum—it was enough to make the trip more than worthwhile. Still, some part of him had hoped for more. Something hidden even deeper. Another secret.
But time wasn't on his side.
The magical permission granted by Gringotts and the Egyptian magical authorities had limits—and the last hour was already ticking down.
Reluctantly, Elias turned away from the stone wall and made his way back toward the main entrance of the tomb.
The guide—a lean wizard in his mid-twenties with sun-worn robes and sand-colored hair—was waiting patiently just outside, leaning on a polished staff that had clearly seen many expeditions.
As Elias emerged, brushing some dust from his robes, the guide straightened.
"Done?" he asked casually.
Elias nodded, keeping his expression neutral. "Yes. There's nothing left down there. Just old stones and faded glyphs."
The guide gave a chuckle and didn't press further. "Didn't expect much. Gringotts and the Ministry combed through these chambers years ago. If there was anything worth having, it's long gone."
Elias simply nodded again, neither agreeing nor contradicting.
The guide stepped aside and gestured toward the main path leading back to the outer camp. "I'll lead you out."
They walked in silence for a few minutes, the sun now climbing high in the sky and baking the sand underfoot. Other tourists and research teams—both magical and muggle—milled about in the distance, separated by discrete enchantments to prevent overlapping.
As they reached the archway leading back to the visitor checkpoint, Elias turned slightly.
"Would you care to join me for lunch?" he asked.
The guide shook his head, offering a half-smile. "Appreciate the offer, but I've got another group scheduled in less than an hour. Summer season's always busy."
"Understood."
They exchanged a brief nod, and with that, the guide turned and vanished into the crowd of magical workers, disappearing like a shadow in the desert heat.
Elias watched him go, then adjusted the strap of his shoulder-slung satchel and made his way back toward the nearby magical quarter.
He wasn't particularly hungry, but protocol dictated that he act like any other curious, respectful visitor. He asked a vendor for directions and, not long after, found himself seated beneath a striped awning at a small café known locally for its authentic wizarding Egyptian cuisine.
The owner, a broad-shouldered man with a thick beard and a booming laugh, greeted him with more warmth than Elias was used to. He ordered a light lamb and lentil stew enchanted to cool the body in high heat, and a cup of mint tea with floating ice petals.
It was surprisingly good.
He sat alone near a window, watching magical tourists pass by, their enchanted headscarves shimmering against the sunlight. His House Elves, hidden under powerful illusion charms, lingered nearby out of sight—ready to step in if needed, but unobtrusive as always.
After finishing the meal, Elias took to the streets. The magical side of Cairo was full of peculiar charm—narrow alleys filled with vendors hawking bottled sunlight, memory phials, and scrolls that whispered history when unrolled.
He browsed a few open-air stalls, purchased a small enchanted scarab said to protect against curses (mostly for amusement), and passed a street performance where a wizard balanced on flying stones while reciting incantations in ancient Egyptian.
By the time he returned to his hotel, the afternoon had mellowed into an amber-gold haze.
Elias paused at the entrance, casting a quick perimeter charm to check for any unwanted tracking spells. Clean.
He stepped inside, the book in his satchel feeling heavier than it should.
There were secrets still locked within it. Of that, he was certain.