Shyla told her about Tamburah’s increasing paranoia and the existence of a second vault.

“May I?” She held out her hand.

“Of course.”

The professor brought it to her desk and examined it under the light. Then she put a glass monocle to her eye and peered at the rubies. Fascinated, Shyla watched as the woman brought out a set of delicate tools and tested the gold by trying to scrape off the color. Emeline performed a few more assessments before weighing the crown.

“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.