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Giles considered the tablet the dealer offered. It certainly looked authentic -- but dealers were very good at making certain all manner of items looked authentic. In fact, the industry was a veritable art form in Egypt, the souks and bazaars littered with items purporting to be from some uncataloged tomb. Most of the fakes were easily discernable to the trained eye, but the most expert pieces were more difficult to sort out.
That was why he was here instead of the usual orders going out to Smithson to handle the transaction. After the Council had been sold the same item three times in the last five years, each time from a dealer in a different part of the world, the Seven had decreed more expert attention was required. With Spike left in temporary command of Field Services (and responsible for making certain departmental reviews were delivered to Human Relations by the deadline), Giles and Anya happily abandoned the chilly climes of a London winter to combine business with pleasure in the sands of Luxor.
“I’m afraid the carving on this portion is somewhat eroded with the passage of time,” the dealer said, directing Giles’ attention to one corner. “Perhaps Madam would find this interesting as well.”
The man cast an uncomfortable glance toward where Anya, who once more shook her head and continued to move restlessly about the shop, browsing the other articles on display in a careless manner. The effect was to divide the dealers attention while he tried to close the deal with Giles as well as make certain Anya wasn’t handling anything too valuable or stuffing something into the large bag she'd slung over her shoulder.
In short, he was behaving exactly as Giles and Anya had hoped he would, which made it easy for Giles to catch her eye as she moved behind the dealer. A small shake of her head and he knew this was yet another forgery. He wasn't quite certain how she knew, but he'd stopped doubting her judgment long ago.
Still, it wouldn't do to break off the negotiations abruptly. There was certain etiquette to such dealings and even if these items were not what Giles had been sent to find, rushing out of the shop would be the height of rudeness. Add to that the fact there was something to Anya's movements, as if the pose of restless spouse had become genuine. She was starting to frown, getting that slight crease between her brows Giles rather adored. It also meant something had prickled her senses. If not the tablet, then what?
There was more polite conversation and a price was at last suggested in a rather general way. Giles countered, knowing that even if he didn't buy the tablet, then he was going to purchase something else. There was a necklace of blue fiance beads Anya kept returning to. The beads themselves might be old, possibly Roman period, though he doubted the pendant hanging from them was the genuine article. Even so, it'd look lovely hanging about his wife's neck.
Another offer and another counter, then the merchant clapped his hands loudly and called for tea to be brought, a sign the negotiations would continue for a while. And then, as the merchant fussed at the boy who carried the tray from the back, Anya let her steps travel near the table. One hand casually reached out to brush across the surface -- and damned if she didn't indicate another of the tablets arrayed on the polished wood surface, one that wasn't currently under discussion. A quick glance and he knew that whatever else it was, there was something about that item she found important.
By the time tea was drunk and many pleasantries exchanged, Giles had purchased the forgery for more than he would have liked -- but both the necklace and the tablet Anya indicated for far less than if her interest was known. "Extremely profitable," she said as their cab headed back toward the hotel. "I can't read Rangmon, but I'm fairly certain Spike can. Not exactly what you were looking for, but Rangmon tablets don't come on the market very often, so this is quite a find." She paused. "Unless it's a recipe for cabbage soup. I don't think the Council would be particularly interested in that."
"But they will be interested in the fact I knowingly purchased a forgery,” Giles pointed out. “That’s not something they particularly enjoy doing.”
“And did they ever wonder stop to wonder why someone is creating expert forgeries with language good enough to fool their experts. Must be a considerable profit margin for them to turn out four different versions of an item in five years. Surely whoever is doing this had to realize that sooner or later, the Council would get wind of the forgeries.”
She smiled and leaned back against the taxi’s somewhat ancient upholstery. “It’s not that they’ve bought themselves another forgery, but that you’ve uncovered a bigger mystery. Why this particular tablet? Is there some reason for the Council to be chasing after it — aside from the fact they have more money than sense and buys things simply because they don’t want other people to have them.”
“And that’s what you want me to take back to them. That someone is forging mystical objects?”
“Of course. Travers and his masters will be furious at the idea and they’ll want to find out who’s responsible. Never mind that the practice has been going on for centuries. Makes them feel important.”
She reached over to flick a speck of lint from his lapel, and then brought that same hand up to caress his cheek. “But I do love the necklace you bought me and I fully intend to show my gratitude.”
As she pulled him to her, Giles reflected, not for the first time, that he was very glad Anya was on his side — even if he wasn’t always sure she was on the Council’s.