It all proved it was the original, which meant someone had linked her to it. She swallowed down the lump which had appeared from nowhere and blinked back the tears. The Qur’an was set well. The background was the bleached stone color of the hammada plains, and the light above it was clear, revealing everything there was to be seen in the illuminated decorations of the most valuable Qur’an to come out of Gharb Havilah. But not so bright as to damage the piece, which she knew had lain hidden near a cave for a thousand years, buried alongside the king who’d ordered its creation. She knew this because her grandfather had told her often enough about how he’d discovered it and how subsequently it had gone missing. Missing until six months ago when it had reappeared and she’d bought it. The note on the piece identified the donor as anonymous.
When she looked back at Zavian, his eyes had changed. He knew. He absolutely knew.Hemight be inscrutable, butshewas an open book to him. He motioned her to sit at the table, in front of the Khasham Qur’an. She had no option but to do so, to sit and look at the object which had betrayed her.
He stood beside her. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said, from between tight lips.
“And mysterious.”
She twisted her lips closed as if scared the truth would come tumbling out.
“Don’t you agree?”
“Not really. We know where it came from.”
“Yes, but we don’t know how it came here, do we?”
She shrugged. “I don’t see how I can help you.” She kept her eyes firmly on him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking away. Still, all the while knowing that her bright red cheeks betrayed her.
“Do you not?”
She shrugged. “The provenance is well known.”
“Not to me.”
“It was found not far from here, I believe.”
“Among the ruins of Khasham. Yes, thank you.Thatmuch, I do know.”
“And then it went missing.”
“I’m so pleased that I spent so much money to bring you here, to receive such an incisive background to the piece. Although I’m not sure your Oxford college will be as pleased.”
The reminder that the future of her Oxford college, together with its staff, depended on her work, was timely. She swallowed. “What else do you want to know?”
He casually indicated the Qur’an. “I’ve told you. About the Qur’an. I want you to tell me what happened to it. I wish to know how it came to be part of my collection.” He sat down, frowning, his hands steepled before him.
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words eluded her.
“Tell me,” he repeated.
“I can’t.”
“I thought you might say that. But I’ve thought of a way to be helpful to you.”
“Helpful?” she repeated weakly, hardly able to think straight.
“Indeed. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next twenty-four hours to assist you in this regard.”
“You… what?”
“I thought you might find your memory faulty, and I’ve decided to help you out.”
“So thoughtful,” she murmured.
“I simply want the truth.”
“And if I can’t discover the truth?”