“Were the pirates on the sea of fire?”

Frank shook his head. “No. A different sea.”

“Then I definitely don’t need the whole story.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you’re missing a good one.”

“My loss,” said Qaphsiel. He cleared his throat. “May I see the box?”

Frank hesitated. “Well, after such a taxing journey, I mean, buying a parka and supplies, flying to Tibet . . .”

“You want to see the money.”

Frank put his hands together as if in prayer. “Please. I’m planning a new journey. There’s a beaver in India who can tell you your past lives through . . .”

“A beaver? In India?”

“Yes. How it got there is an interesting story, if you have the time.”

“I don’t!” said Qaphsiel quickly. Then he added, “I don’t usually carry cash. Will this do?” He opened a hand and gold coins cascaded onto the table.

Frank stared. “Holy shit.”

Qaphsiel smiled tightly. “Spoken with the poetry of the truly enlightened. Now may I see the box?”

“Sure,” said Frank. He went to an altar to Ganesha and brought back a cloth bundle.

Qaphsiel took out his map. Shapes and lines drifted across its surface, showing patterns of divine power. “Hmm. This is puzzling,” he said. “If this really is the box you say it is, there should be some sign on my map.”

Frank held his hand over the bundle as if blessing it. “It’s wrapped in a magic, protective cloth.”

Qaphsiel smiled. “Ah. That must be it.” It looked like a knockoff Gucci scarf with the tag clipped off.

Frank stacked the coins on one side of the table while Qaphsiel carefully unwrapped the box on the other. He frowned when he saw it, bent his head down, and opened the lid just a crack so he could look inside. He closed it quickly.

“Nope. That’s not the box,” said Qaphsiel.

Frank looked up from his piles of coins. “You sure? You should check again.”

“Trust me. I know what’s in the box, and this isn’t it.”

Frank shrugged. “Sorry, man. This is the only box like it in the world. I brought it all the way back—”

“Yes, from where a monk and a Frenchman and a pirate and probably a sphinx and a talking beaver named Mr. Waffles told you it was hidden.” Qaphsiel turned the box over.

Frank looked up from his horde. “Hey, I went to a lot of trouble to find that.”

Qaphsiel turned the box over in his hands. “Really? Was the first Pier One closed?”

Frank’s eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me a crook?”

Qaphsiel pointed to a spot on the box. His shoulders sagged. “It clearly says ‘Made in Japan’ on the bottom.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Someone did a good job of rubbing it out, but it’s there. I have better eyes than most mortals.”

Frank pushed his chair back from the table. “Who are you?”