“It’s certainly valuable. But I’m not convinced it was Tamburah’s. Do you have proof?”
“Isn’t there an analysis that can determine an artifact’s age?”
“Yes, but it takes a long time and I don’t have the equipment here.”
“Why does it matter? The gold and rubies alone are worth plenty of coins.”
“True, but if it really is a historical artifact that can be studied and displayed, then it’s worth more.”
“How much more?”
“Double.”
Ah. Was it worth the risk? But, more importantly, did she want the crown to be disassembled and melted down? “I’ve a statue of Tamburah that was found along with the crown.”
Emeline perked up. “That would be perfect! Do you wish to sell that one as well?”
“Do you have enough coins to pay for both?”
“Please don’t insult me, girl.”
Shyla waited.
The professor unlocked a small trunk and pulled out a big pouch. It jangled and clanged when she handled it. She untied it and then spilled dozens and dozens of osees onto the desk. “As you can see, I’ve plenty.” Picking up the now empty pouch, she met Shyla’s gaze. “How about I pay you now for the crown at the current black-market value and, when you return with the statue, I’ll double that amount and we’ll negotiate a price for the statue?”
It sounded reasonable. Aphra had warned her that she wouldn’t get full market value because the sale wasn’t legitimate. “What are you offering?”
“One hundred osees.”
Aphra had also taught her to never take the first offer. It would be insultingly low and a test to see if Emeline could take advantage of Shyla.
“Seven hundred osees,” she countered.
“Ha! That’s robbery. Two hundred osees.”
They went back and forth until they agreed on four hundred osees. Shyla kept her expression neutral, but inside she celebrated. That amount would go a long way and when she returned, she’d double it along with the value of the statue.
After Emeline paid her, Shyla headed to Orla’s commune.
Ximen was already there, waiting for her. “The merchants expect Zimraan’s caravan in five sun jumps.”
“How do they know he’s coming then?” she asked.
“Most big caravans send runners a few sun jumps ahead to inform the next city of their arrival, to hire muscle to carry their goods down to the market, and to arrange for someone to care for their gamelus while they’re in the city.” Ximen looked at her in amusement.
“What?”
“You know all this history and how to read ancient languages, but not the mundane workings of the city.”
“That’s what happens when you grow up in a monastery. What else do I need to know about these caravans?”
“They’re guarded. And Zimraan won’t want to upset the Heliacal Priestess by selling the platinum to us.”
She jingled the osees in her pack. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”
Ximen smiled. “I take it your visit went well.”
Shyla handed him the pouch of coins minus a handful for her to spend. “Yes. I want you to take this back to headquarters and fetch one of the Tamburah statues.” She explained about the deal. “You’ll have an easier time leaving and returning. I can take care of some business while I wait.”
“All right.”
“And can you check on Mojag? Make sure he’s still okay.”
“Will do.” Ximen left to meet up with Jaft and Elek.
Shyla searched for Orla. The woman was happy to see her and quickly filled her in on the news. The vagrants hadn’t found the mother of the infant left in the sand and they didn’t know where Rendor was staying. The city was buzzing with talk about the arrest of the monks, and the Heliacal Priestess’s obsession with purchasing platinum was still an active source of gossip.
“We believe they’re melting the platinum down in the chapel on level seventy-one. One of my people caught a whiff of molten metal. The priestess has also doubled the number of deacons guarding all the chapels,” Orla said.
“That’s not a surprise. Did you get any backlash from the rescue?” Shyla asked.
“No. In fact, the search for the members of the Invisible Sword has taken priority and both the guards and deacons have stopped harassing the vagrants for now.”
At least Shyla was able to make a difference for the communes. Baby steps was what Ximen had said about learning magic, but it could be applied to their efforts to help others as well. Eventually, they’d be in a position to effect real change. That thought reminded her.
She asked about the people the deacons had tortured. “Are they fully recovered?” It’d been eight sun jumps since the rescue.
“Some are. A few need more time, but Zhek is satisfied with their progress.”
“Once they’re better what happens to them?”
“They are afraid to return to their lives, so they’ve asked to remain with us. As long as they contribute to the commune, they’re welcome to stay.”
“I’d like to talk to them,” Shyla said.
“They’re asleep right now, but I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you when they wake. How long are you staying?”
“Just another sun jump.” Sleeping sounded like a good idea, so she headed to her room. As she sank into the cushion, she wondered if she could justify using her newly acquired coins to buy a couple sleeping cushions. Would Zimraan have any to sell? And why was she obsessed with this? Perhaps thinking about obtaining a comfortable cushion kept her from contemplating the fact she had no one to share it with. No one had seen Rendor. Did that mean he’d left the city? And why did that notion hurt so much?
Orla was right. The group she’d helped rescue cheered when she entered their quarters around angle twenty. A dozen total—part of an extended family that had gotten on the priestess’s bad side—they stayed in a large room that had sleeping cushions, furs, tables, and a sitting area. They also cared for the four that still required assistance.
After she explained about their potential to have magic because of the trauma they had experienced, they all immediately agreed to allow her to test them, even those four who couldn’t stand.
Of the twelve, only two had been cracked, and one was younger than Mojag. Too young, but she was determined to be a part.
“When you’re older,” Shyla said to her. And she explained to Wazir, the other one, that he’d have to relive the horrors he had experienced in order for her to fully open his magic.
“You saved my son. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you,” Wazir said.
The mention of his son sent a jolt of alarm straight through her along with a sudden realization. The other Invisible Sword members didn’t have children, which she was very glad about. And she didn’t want Wazir’s son to grow up without his father. Or for his wife to lose her husband.
“You can help by taking care of your son. I’ll find another-”
“Do you think I want him to grow up in a world where your family can be arrested or grabbed by power hungry deacons for little to no reason? He will be safe here in the commune while I fight to make Zirdai a good place to raise a family.”