Landing on the third floor, Axandra allowed her home to be unlocked by the posted guard—also one of Narone's new orders—who opened the outer door then closed and locked it behind her while she opened the inner door and stepped inside.
Quinn sat on the divan in the great room studying a sheet of creased parchment. With his wire-rimmed spectacles balanced three-quarters of the way down his nose, he alternated between the letter and a small object in his opposite hand. On the tea table rested a wooden crate thirty centims by sixty centims and about ten deep. The lid lay aside and curls of fibrous packing nest trailed out.
“Is that a box of artifacts?” she asked excitedly, feeling suddenly light-hearted. “Where are they from? Are they the ones you were expecting?” In the last few months sinc
