“What would frighten a ghost?” he said.
“I told him a demon was involved. No details, of course. He said that could explain it.”
Baldemar gave a small grunt. “Let me see it again.”
Oldo brought out the cloth-wrapped object and laid it on the counter. Baldemar studied it, flipping it over to examine both images. “Could be a goddess,” he said, “and a king or emperor on the other side. It would help if we could read the script.”
He peered at the silver again. Oldo noticed that the room was silent. He looked down at the cat. She had ceased purring and was ignoring the half-eaten fish liver. Now she was looking up at the counter, and her ears were laid back flat against her black-furred skull. Oldo heard a hiss.
“Not her goddess, then,” he said.
“Let me know when the ghost-wrangler is com
