Chapter 5He showed us in. His home was sparsely decorated, neat as a pin, utilitarian furnishings. Very unremarkable, until it wasn’t. Yuri was the first to notice it, a painting above a mantelpiece. All our heads turned as he pointed, all our mouths agape, even Genie’s.
“That’s how you recognized us?” I asked.
The man nodded, pointed at the painting, then to the genie, then back at the painting. “My ancestor had excellent artists at his disposal.” He grinned a yellowed grin. “Spitting image, yes?”
We all nodded in sync. “But,” said Luke, “you said you were expecting us. And unless that portrait can speak, how could you have known we were headed here? We didn’t even know we were headed here.”
Yuri slightly lifted his hand from his side. “That portrait can’t speak, can it?”
The man sho
