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The next afternoon Manisha assisted Devak in the tent-workshop. They were sorting and cataloging the treasures that they had extracted from the Britisa museum: incredible paintings by the Ancient Masters; the death mask of a man named Oliver Cromwell; that curious lantern; various antiquities from a land called Egypt; and most stunning of all, a magnificent quartz jewel encased in gold filigree, with the strange inscription “AELFRED MEC HEHT GEWYRCAN” inscribed around the edges. It was as large as a hen’s egg.
Devak hefted the jewel and spoke excitedly. “Manisha, just imagine the places this jewel has been! Who knows, it might have belonged to one of the earliest kings of the Britisa!”
Manisha was slumped over, face down on the table.
“…Manisha?” he said.
She popped back up and wiped the hair out of her eyes. “I am sorry, Master—I am just so tired…” she mumbled.
“Studying late?” he inquired.
“Yes, my music—” She caught herself, thinking, I almost gave it away…
“I see… And the Stradivari, are you studying it too?”
“Yes…” she said, while thinking, If you only knew the half of it… She slumped, and her head hit the table again.
The Last Stradivari Page 4