24
FENELLA
The workshop exceeded Fenella's expectations, although the truth was that she hadn't known what she expected to find. It wasn't just the huge number of figurines, although there were hundreds of them lining shelves, covering workbenches, and tucked into every available space. It was the sheer energy that pulsed from them. Her psychometric ability, even without touching anything and without Kyra and Jasmine augmenting it, thrummed with awareness, compelling her to touch everything.
She felt like a vampire who smelled blood.
Bad analogy, but whatever. "Holy mother of pearl," she breathed, turning in a slow circle. "Look at all of that."
Each figurine was unique, capturing not just physical features but the essence of the person portrayed. That was the hallmark of true artistry. Very few could achieve that ineffable quality.
One was of a warrior woman with fierce eyes and a proud chin. Another of a child caught mid-laugh, joy radiating from the stone. An elderly man whose carved face held mirth andwisdom, his expression conveying his amusement at the folly of youth.
"Don't touch anything," Max warned.
"I wasn't going to," Fenella said, but her fingers were itching to make contact, to dive into the memories these pieces must hold. "This is his life's work."
Din moved closer to examine a section of shelving. "I think they are organized according to a timeline. The style evolves subtly over time."
He was right. She was no expert on antiques or even on styles, but the pieces on the higher shelves looked older and displayed a different technique than those on the lower shelves, which were newer and showed refinements in method and experiments with different stones and pigments. It was like watching Esag's artistic abilities grow over the centuries.
"But where's the artist?" Max asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "This place is obviously in active use. Some of these pieces are still damp."
"Someone's coming," Kalugal said sharply, and everyone tensed.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor above, belonging to more than one person. There were three of them.
"Defensive positions," Max ordered quietly. "But don't look aggressive. We are the trespassers here, and we didn't come to fight."
Din pulled Fenella back and tucked her behind his solid frame. She wanted to protest and say that she wasn't some damsel who needed protecting, but common sense prevailed as the tacticalpart of her brain recognized the wisdom. She wasn't a warrior. Her value was in her ability, not her fighting skills.
The footsteps stopped just outside the entrance. Then three figures appeared in the doorway.
The one in the center had to be Esag. Tall and lean, with flame-red hair and freckles. His face was young. Like all immortals, there had been no weathering over the thousands of years of his existence, but his eyes held the weight of that long life. He wore simple clothes, dust-covered from work, but his hands bore no signs of wear. Immortal healing made them look like the hands of a scholar, not a craftsman.
The two flanking him were dark-haired, one slightly taller than the other, both carrying themselves with the easy confidence of warriors despite their civilian clothing. They weren't threatening, not really, but they exuded confidence that implied they didn't consider the immortals and humans in front of them particularly dangerous, and that was a little scary.
Kalugal, Ell-rom, Max, and Din were not weaklings, and Esag and his friends' assessment of them must have revealed that.
For a long moment, the groups simply stared at each other. The tension in the room ratcheted up another notch.
"Well," Esag finally said in proper English, sounding like he had grown up in London. "This is unexpected, and I don't know if I should say that I'm glad to discover that not all immortals are dead, as my companions and I believed, or not."
"We come in peace." Kalugal lifted his hands. "And before we commence with introductions, I want to apologize for breaking into your workshop and reiterate that I will pay for the new locks and their installation."
Esag smiled. "I saw your message on the security camera. Couldn't you have waited until our arrival?"
"I apologize again, but our group attracted a lot of attention, and I wanted to get everyone inside for their safety. Especially the ladies."
Esag nodded. "Your apology is accepted. Now, please tell us who you are, how you found us, and why you searched for us."
"My name is Kalugal, and these are my companions. We came looking for you, Esag. We didn't know whether your two companions survived as well."
Confusion creased Esag's brow. "How do you know my name? And how is it possible that you are here? We thought all the immortals perished with the gods. You are the first ones we’ve encountered in five thousand years. How did you know to look for me?"
"Your figurines." Fenella stepped out from behind Din despite his attempt to keep her back. "The ones you made of the people you thought lost. Kalugal is a collector, and he discovered three of them. They led us to you."
His name had been carved on the bottom of the figurine she’d seen in her vision, so for now, that explanation should suffice. Too much information all at once would shock the poor guy.
