"The object," Kadar prompted.
"Tomorrow morning."
"Tonight."
"You're very stubborn." Tarik sighed. "Very well, tonight." He set his goblet down and picked up a candelabra. "Follow me, it's in the chamber at the end of the corridor."
The room to which Tarik took them was small and sparsely furnished. A long oak table and two chairs occupied the center of the room. On the table was a wooden pedestal on which a brown leather-bound manuscript rested.
Tarik gestured. "There it is."
"That's no treasure," Selene said.
"But it's what led Nasim to seek the treasure," Tarik said. "And a manuscript's value is in the eyes of the beholder."
Selene felt a surge of excitement. "An entire chamber for one manuscript?"
"Don't read importance into that. If I could obtain more volumes, I would do so. I have a passion for words. What a rare delight they are in this rough world."
Kadar was already seating himself at the table and carefully opening the volume. "I'll need light. Leave the candles, Tarik."
"The light would be much better if you'd wait for morning."
"Leave the candles."
Tarik set the candelabra on the table. "You'll go blind. The script is none too good. It was done by a scribe, not a monk from the abbey." He turned to Selene. "Will you, at least, be sensible and go to your bed?"
"Presently." She sat down in the chair across the table from Kadar. "I'll stay awhile."
Tarik's gaze went from one to the other, and a faint smile curved his lips. "I should have known to argue would be of no avail. A sip is never enough when you have a great thirst, and you both have a voracious thirst for life."
"And so do you," Selene said.
"I once did. But I've drunk deep enough to quench my thirst." He moved toward the door. "Well, I'm going to my bed. Don't wake me. I won't answer any questions until morning."
As the door closed behind him, Kadar's gaze eagerly fastened on the parchment.
Selene settled back in her chair, watching his face, waiting.
She was being carried up the stairs.
Selene opened drowsy eyes to see Kadar's face above her. His expression held excitement and tension.
Were they going to the tower chamber?
No, this was different. No scent of hashish . . .
"Kadar, where--"
"Shh, you fell asleep at the table." He was taking her to her chamber, laying her on the bed.
She had fallen asleep at a table? What a strange--the manuscript!
"What did it say?" She sat bolt upright in bed, wide awake. "What was in it?"
He sat down on the bed beside her. "Nothing to become excited about. I think the manuscript must be a jest of Tarik's."
"A jest?"
