"Patience," Kalugal said. "This is where we found the other figurines."
They reached another shop, which was larger than the others they had visited so far, and the proprietor spoke excellent English and seemed to know his merchandise.
Din walked over to an ornate brass lamp that Fenella had to agree had some charm to it despite being ugly, but it wasn't worth carrying with them through the market, let alone taking back to the village.
"We don't even have a house, Din," she protested.
"We will." He motioned for the shopkeeper to wrap it up.
Shaking her head, Fenella moved over to the figurine collection, with Kyra falling in step with her.
"Anything?" Kyra asked quietly.
"The usual tourist junk made in China and pretending to be authentic." Fenella picked up a small statue of Isis. "Nothing."
"My dear ladies!" The proprietor appeared at her side, all obsequious smiles. "You have excellent taste! That statuette of Isis is very special. Very old!"
Yeah. Perhaps it was two months old, the time it took to ship it over from China.
"How old?" Jasmine asked.
"Oh, perhaps one hundred years! Maybe two hundred! From my grandfather's collection!"
Fenella set it down carefully. She didn't see the point in crushing his sales pitch. "It's lovely, but not what we're looking for."
His expression shifted, becoming calculating. "Ah, you are collectors. What are you interested in?"
"Unusual pieces." Kalugal joined them. "Unique. Pieces made by real artisans and not mass-produced overseas." He pulled out his phone and showed the guy a picture of the figurine modeled after Wonder's sister.
The man's eyes shone with the excitement of a shark identifying prey. "Unique is difficult to come by. Expensive."
"Money isn't an issue," Kalugal assured him. "For the right kind of item."
Another furtive glance. Then the proprietor leaned closer. "I know of such an artist. Very talented and very strange. He comes by occasionally and sells one or two pieces. Very unusual work. I pay him top pound because his pieces sell for much more and never stay on display for more than one day. I don't have anything of his at the moment, but if you leave me your contact information, I will let you know as soon as he delivers another piece."
Fenella's pulse quickened. "Do you know where he lives?"
"The City of the Dead." The man shuddered slightly. "Al-Qarafa. It is not a safe place for tourists. You shouldn't go there. Wait until he comes here."
Obviously, the guy didn't want to be cut out of the deal, and he wasn't going to tell them where to find the artist. He might even be lying about his living in the City of the Dead just to discourage them from attempting to find the craftsman.
Fenella turned to look at Din, signaling with her eyes that he should just reach into the human's mind and pluck the information out of there.
"Does he have a name?" Din asked.
Fenella hoped he'd understood her eye signals.
"He calls himself Isa. He doesn't talk much. Just brings pieces, takes money, and disappears again."
"When was he last here?" Kalugal asked.
"Maybe two weeks? Three? He's not regular." The man studied them with shrewd eyes. "So, you are not just interested in his work but in him in person?"
Kalugal nodded. "I have a project I would like to discuss with him."
"I could maybe arrange an introduction," the shopkeeper said. "For a fee."
"That won't be—" Kalugal began, but stopped mid-sentence. His posture had shifted subtly, and then he flashed the proprietor a charming smile. "Actually, yes. Let's discuss terms. Inside your office, perhaps?"
