Deadly Magic

Part Seven

In the desert the winds swirled the sand into choking dust devils, causing Harry to cover his face with his shirt. His feet kept slipping into the shifting sand dunes. The horse who was slightly more accustomed to the terrain but whinnied and protested constantly.

It wasn't an easy trip.

The old man looked up at the stars. He muttered into the hump on his back, as if he was confirming his calculations. Eventually Sirius rose like the eye of a menacing demon over the chill desert and they arrived at a solid cliff of bedrock. Below, it was a wide dip, a valley of sand, beautiful in the starlight, but desolate and deadly. There were no plants here, no animals, not even stray stones.

Harry helped the old man down off the horse. Muttering and murmuring, the man drew something out of his rags, cupping his hands as if it was alive. As if it was something that might escape. Finally he spread his fingers and revealed his prize. A golden scarab rested in his palm. 

At first Harry thought it was a piece of jewelry or a statue, maybe with a treasure map on its back. It then opened its golden wings to reveal a set of flight wings—also made of gold. It sparkled and flew into the air with a heavy buzzing sound.

Harry jumped back.

The beautiful but frightening thing flew away into the valley with the directness of something not entirely insect-like. It circled around a large mound as if deciding what to do and then plunged deep into the sands. Almost instantly the sand dunes slid forward in a disturbing way. Something large, and very unnatural was rippling and rising to the surface. A giant stone head of a tiger emerged, moving and growling and tossing like it was alive.

Harry prepared to start running, but nothing more of the tiger appeared; just it's head. It did not seem able to move and lacked the body of a sphinx. Its eyes glowed like stars.

"Who disturbs my slumber?" It was hard to say if the words were actually spoken aloud. The ground rumbled, sky thundered, tiger roared. Harry backed away, almost tripping over his own feet. This was not what he had signed up for. 

A dangerous trip into a deep, dark cave, yes. 

A jaunt into the middle of the desert at night, sure. 

This was too much. It hadn't been mentioned of a giant talking tiger with the voice of an ancient god. The old man made an impatient go ahead movement with his hands.

"What?" Harry demanded. "Are you crazy?" 

"You want the prince, boy?" his companion asked with a sneer.

Yes.

Yes, he did. Harry took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves. "Uh . . . it is I! Harry!" he shouted, feeling more than a little foolish. The tiger was silent for a moment. Harry got ready to run for his life.

"Proceed." The rumbles were softer, as if it was less angry. "Touch nothing but the lamp."

Its mouth snapped open, revealing a wide golden gullet. Down its tongue traveled a golden staircase. Harry couldn't see to the bottom. He took a tentative step forward. "Remember, boy, just fetch me the lamp!" the old man shouted, unconsciously imitating the tiger. "Get me the lamp and I shall make sure you get your reward!" 

Harry thought of Louis. He set his jaw. "C'mon, Dusty," he said, and began to go down the steps. The golden stairs very quickly revealed themselves to be disappointingly normal stone, only lit golden by whatever was below. But the sheer number of them was breath taking: the path dipped and curved through the darkness as far as the eye could see. Several times when Harry thought they had reached the end, the stairs began again into a deeper descent. Into—Harry was more than a little relieved to see—an absolutely enormous, normal cave. Not a stomach. At the far side of the cave was a somewhat anticlimactic stone doorway that glowed so brightly from whatever was in the room behind it that Harry had to cover his eyes as he went in. "Would you look at that," he said, when he passed through to the other side, a wide grin growing across his face.