“Is it guarded?”
“I don’t know. Why? Are you thinking of sneaking inside?”
He pointed. “The artist obviously met tiger shifters. How else would he know about their eyes?”
She understood immediately and pursed her lips. “The pupils aren’t vertical.” She glanced at Phoenix. “I noticed yours were odd when we first met, but I assumed a genetic anomaly.”
“I’m an anomaly, all right,” his wry reply.
Her phone beeped, and she glanced at it. “Khalid has the keys and says to meet him by the access door next to the gift shop.”
They walked quickly back in the direction they’d arrived, veering to the left of the elevators toward a brightly colored sign, under which sat a rack holding stuffed animals. A plain door to the side stood partially ajar.
Nadirah walked through it without hesitation, and Phoenix—scenting nothing—followed.
The custodian waited in the narrow corridor and beckoned. Khalid led them down a set of steps into a dingy but wide corridor with several closed doors.
“Khalid says they recently recovered some artifacts that seem related to the harimau. The curators are currently itemizing them, as well as trying to discern their origin before displaying them to the public.
“Where was the stuff found?”
Rapid-fire conversation with the custodian had her nodding before saying in English, “Numerous items were recovered from someone’s house after they died. The family didn’t know what to do with it and contacted the museum. Khalid says the man was a part of the team that discovered the ruin with the batik, and it appears he might have stolen some of the items rather than hand them over.”
Suddenly Phoenix found himself a lot more interested in what might be in that storage room. A mural might not have answered any questions, but perhaps these other artifacts held some clues.
The door Khalid opened looked like the others. Plain gray with dings in several spots. He flicked a light switch,illuminating a claustrophobic space. Boxes stacked in precarious towers. Wooden crates, some of them pried open, showing the stuffing used to keep the items cushioned during transit. A few tables with no chairs took up the center of the room, the tops of them strewn with a variety of items.
Khalid waved his hands and said something to which Nadirah nodded before addressing Phoenix. “He says some of the items are on the table with the rest over there.” She pointed to a stack of three cardboard boxes.
“Does he know why we’re looking for tiger shifters?” Phoenix had noticed Khalid staring at him.
“Not the real reason. I told him you were doing a research paper on shapeshifter legends from around the world.”
“Tell him thanks.”
The man nodded. “Wel. Come.” Then added something Phoenix couldn’t understand before he left them alone.
“What did he say?”
“Just to text him when we leave so he can lock up. He also warned us to be careful, as some of the items are fragile.”
Fragile and eclectic. Phoenix wandered to the nearest table, which appeared to hold figurines. Male mostly, but none of them fully human. One had a tail, or at least the remnants of one, as part of it had broken off. Another reminded Phoenix of a minotaur, only with a feline head instead of a bull. A few were actual tigers but in poses that seemed more human than cat. Paws over the eyes. Clapping. His gaze kept returning, though, to the two-legged versions with feline characteristics.
He pointed. “Is it me, or do these imply a partial shift?”
Nadirah crouched for a closer look. “Is that possible?”
“I don’t know.”
“Either it is, or the artist chose to be very creative.”
“What was on the table you were looking at?”
Nadirah returned and bent down to murmur, “Some handwritten letters.”
“Why would the curators keep a bunch of correspondence?”
“I’m not sure. I’m having a bit of trouble with some of the language. The dialect is not one I’m familiar with. But there must be a reason they thought them important enough to study. Give me a moment and I’ll see if I can gather the gist.”
