Was he lying again? This time I wasn’t so sure. He maintained eye contact and used a stance of openness.
“What can you tell me about the Trai Amulet?”
He waved a hand. “Slow down there, miss. My blood sugar’s a bit low for this interrogation.”
I looked through the bakery window to the delicacies Cornelius Kurnbottom had been admiring. “How about we step inside and grab a bite? My treat.”
“Never decline a pretty girl’s invitation,” he said, and opened the bakery door for me.
“Thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome.”
He chose a coffee and an apple danish from the case. I got the same, paid, and we took a tiny table in the corner. We were the only patrons there.
“All right,” I said after he took his first bite. “What can you tell me about the amulet?”
He chuckled. “Well, likely you know more about it than I do. It’s said to be from the thirteenth century, or before. It’s been in the Aldea family for many generations, but there is no record as to where it originated, other than the blend of metal is unique to Roldaria during that time.”
“Mm-hmm,” I said, pretending I already knew all of this. “The marking is particularly interesting.”
Would he say something about its resemblance to my mother’s tree? I waited with bated breath.
He sipped his coffee, taking his sweet time. “It is interesting. There are no similar trees growing in Roldaria, with the bloated trunk and small limbs—at least not now. Who is to say what was here when the amulet was crafted?”
Someone. The library. Why was there not more information in the file? The lack felt jarring as I listened to Cornelius Kurnbottom share his knowledge.
I asked, “What can you tell me about the amulet’s disappearance?”
“Unfortunate,” he said. “If what the library has said about it is true, the amulet could solve all kinds of problems. Its loss is a tragedy.”
Had the library truly offered him insights into the amulet? Insights they had chosen not to share with me?
“What do you meansolve problems?”I asked. “What problems?”
“It’s said to make things bigger, correct?”
Was it? Edwina Aldea had said it magnified. That could mean it made things larger. It was best to agree, so I did. “Correct.”
“Imagine taking an apple and growing it to twice the size, or quadruple,” Mr. Kurnbottom said. “I don’t know what the limits are, but imagine now you’re no longer feeding a single person, you’re feeding two or four.”
“That could be useful,” I said, surprised by his thoughtful insight.
“Not if it’s gone.” He shook his head. “Not if it’s locked up in your library, either.”
“We don’t get to decide what the library does and doesn’t deem fit for circulation. If they want the amulet in storage, it’s likely the dangers are greater than the possible benefits.”
“I don’t know that there’s anything greater than solving world hunger,” he said. “But of course all this is a moot point, as the amulet was stolen.”
“Who would have had access to the amulet while it was in your possession?”
“The whole town, and then some,” he said. “It was a part of the Ancient Artistry of Roldaria exhibit. People from all around the country came to see the exhibit.”
“If you thought you could save the world from hunger with the amulet, did you attempt to do so?” I asked.
“I don’t know anything of the amulet’s powers firsthand,” he said. “If it in fact does have the magical properties Ms. Aldea claims, I never saw evidence. It was lent to the museum in a sealed case, and it remained in that case until it was stolen.”
I looked deeply into his sunken eyes, and saw an openness that surprised me.