appear again today with clues for me. I certainly didn’t have enough information yet to perform any sort of quest. Besides, Cybele’s Gift was to be sold today, almost certainly to my father. Once he had acquired it, all that lay ahead was the voyage home. What was it the folk of the Other Kingdom needed me to do?
It was hard to concentrate. My eyes were on the papers, but my thoughts kept returning to last night and the sensations that had passed through me as Stoyan’s big hands worked so gently on my ankle. I remembered embracing him as I wept and how good it had felt to have his arms around me, tender and comforting. I must not let such a thing happen again. He and I were a world apart. To imagine any future for us beyond the
“Forget it, Paula,” I muttered to myself. “Where men are concerned, you’re not exactly an expert.”
That was certainly true in Duarte’s case. I had no idea how to deal with the man. Everything he did broke the rules. I was obliged to admit that this was one of many things I liked about the Portuguese. He could be guaranteed to surprise me every time I set eyes on him. Not that I was likely to do so again now that the competition for Cybele’s Gift was almost over. I caught myself imagining going home to Piscul Dracului accompanied by the dashing pirate and the dramatic impression this would make on my sisters. I firmly ordered myself to stop acting like a silly girl of thirteen. I must start concentrating on these papers or Irene would think I was simply using her library as a bolt-hole where I could hide and feel sorry for myself.
I went right through the second box, but there were no pages there to match the two I had from the Persian manuscript. The exercise had been a waste of time. Worst of all, Tati had not come. I kept glancing up, hoping to see her black-robed figure seated opposite me, with the embroidered figure of Stela on her handiwork, but there was nothing. Women came in and out of the library, their voices muted, though I thought I caught an undercurrent of excitement in their tone today. Some new item of gossip, no doubt. I probably wouldn’t hear what it was, since I did not intend to visit the hamam with Stoyan away.
Irene came to fetch me for coffee late in the morning. I had been sitting awkwardly and my neck hurt. So did my ankle. It was a relief to accompany her out to the colonnade, where a dainty repast had been laid out for us.
“Did you find what you were looking for, Paula?” Irene asked as she poured the coffee into tiny cups patterned with rich swirls of color and handed one to me.
I shook my head. “I don’t seem to be very efficient today; I’m tired. Maybe another time.”
“Of course.” She sounded calm, but I sensed the same kind of restlessness in her that had been present in the other women, as if she were anticipating some diversion of great interest. But all she said was, “You seem upset, Paula. Is something wrong? You can talk to me. I am the soul of discretion.”
“It’s nothing.” I would not tell her the story of Tati. What if, after all this, my sister never reappeared? What if the puzzles and clues came to nothing? “I twisted my ankle; it is painful after the walk and then keeping still for so long.”
“You poor girl,” said Irene. “You know, the hamam is the perfect thing for relaxing an injured limb and helping with other kinds of hurt as well.” Her eyes were shrewd as she scrutinized my face. “Why not give up on work for the morning and allow Olena to tend to you? Not her usual vigorous massage, of course. She is expert in a gentler form of treatment, which will ease the pain and relax you at the same time. You seem very much on edge this morning.”
“I’m fine.” I took another sip of coffee. The cup shook in my hand.
“You’re not fine at all.” Irene leaned forward, her tone solicitous. “You are stretched as tight as a bowstring. Let me guess. Perhaps your father has gone out on another visit, and you are anxious as to whether it will be successful? Worried that Duarte Aguiar may get there first or bid higher?”
I stared at her.
Irene laughed. “I’m only guessing, Paula. Wasn’t it extraordinary that, here in my library, you found that image exactly matching the artifact? I could hardly believe my eyes when we saw the piece. Your father spoke to Barsam after the viewing—after you had announced Cybele’s Gift was not as it should be. I deduce that Master Teodor did not plan to back out of the deal altogether but had perhaps asked for more time. Maybe he thought himself the only bidder left, in which case he might obtain the item for a much lower price. I could not fail to notice that one guest remained at the blue house after we left: Duarte Aguiar.”
“You probably know him better than I do. Do you think he’ll still bid?” There didn’t seem much point in pretending ignorance.
Her eyes went cold. “Oh, yes,” she said. “Duarte will bid. Tell me, why is your father still interested in Cybele’s Gift? Won’t his buyer be disappointed? Or do the two of you plan to search for the missing half before returning home?”
“Hardly. We haven’t the resources to mount a search across the whole region from here to Tabriz. That’s supposing the fellow who sold it to Barsam ever had the other half.”
“I have a theory, Paula.”
“Oh?”
“You heard Duarte say he planned to return the piece to its place of origin, wherever that may be? I believe that once he has obtained the half statue we saw last night, he will go straight after its other half if he knows where it is. If he doesn’t know, he will search for it. That man has the instinct of a migrating bird; he wings direct for his destination.”
“He could only do that if he was the successful bidder,” I said. “Father has years of experience in the merchant business. And he was going early. I’m certain he will bring the piece back.” I had not intended to state quite so baldly what Father was doing this morning, but it was too late to make any difference now. In all probability, the transaction was already concluded and he and Stoyan on their way home.
“Duarte will stop at nothing, Paula. I did warn you. You saw how he behaved last night—rude, presumptuous, in complete disregard of social niceties. You should have left me to deal with him.”
“Maybe I should go back to the han,” I said, not wanting to pursue this topic. In fact, I thought I had handled
