He expected to see awe in the other man’s eyes. Or wonder at the magnificence of the piece now that he was gazing upon its gleaming beauty. But Mishra’s fearful astonishment was not at all what he might have anticipated. And once again Phin asked himself what in hell Barnaby had gotten mixed up in.
“I had prayed that I might be wrong…” Mishra whispered to himself as he reached for a rolled parchment that had been tucked into an inner pocket of his coat. Unrolling it he revealed a vibrant painting that he spread on the table. Mishra drew the jewelry box closer and hunched over the image, darting his eyes from the painting to the necklace and back again, apparently forgetting Phineas’s presence entirely.
Peering at the upside-down painting, all Phin could see was an image of a young woman, dressed in what appeared to be formal Hindi clothing. She was seated on a divan with a bower of flowers around her and various woodland creatures peeking at her from the lush foliage. A closer look revealed a gentle swarm of what appeared to be bees circling her head. And around her throat, a necklace, like the one before them.
His breath caught as Mishra traced his finger over the depiction of the necklace in the painting.
“It is the same,” he murmured.
Mishra nodded, never taking his eyes from the painting.
“Where did you get this painting? Who is she?”
“A princess of one of the Rajput kingdoms who lived in the 14th century,” he replied, leaving the first question unanswered. Then he bobbled his head and lifted an inquiring look. “May I?”
Phin nodded and the man gently collected the three-tiered necklace from the box. With both hands, he turned the item one way then the other, studying the intricate goldwork, the many large jewels and the hundreds of smaller semiprecious stones. As expected, he spent the most time assessing the large honeybee motif that made up the central focal point of the necklace, examining the set of stones that made up the insect as well as the Sanskrit markings that were etched into the gold setting.
After several long minutes of silent perusal, the man lifted his head with a sorrowful expression and a deep dread in his eyes. “I wish I could say this is a replica or a fake. I do not believe it is.”
An odd sense of dread twisted through Phin’s core. “You must enlighten me, Mr. Mishra. Why is this piece so disconcerting? Why the need for such precaution?”
The man set the necklace back into the box, reverently arranging it to his liking, before closing the lid and sliding it back across the table.His dark eyes were wide and undeniably worried as they met Phin’s.
“It is an object of myth. And legend. Worn only once before disappearing completely.” His voice quivered. “It should not exist…”
“I don’t understand,” Phin said quietly.
Mishra’s eyes narrowed, crinkling at the corners. His next words were harsh and firm. “You should not have this. Items like this should remain lost, my lord. It is cursed.”
It was the second time Mishra had used that word. And there was something in the other man’s eyes that suggested Phin should not disregard any warnings about this necklace.
“How did you acquire such a piece?” Mishra asked.
“A friend sent it to me and asked me to keep it safe until he could retrieve it.”
The other man gave a soft snort. “Not a good friend, my lord. There is too much tragedy and death connected to this necklace, it can only attract more of the same. Get rid of it.”
That was something he could not do.
“Unfortunately, it must remain with me for now. What else can you tell me about it? Perhaps I can guard against the curse if I know more about it.”
The other man shook his head and rose to his feet. Gesturing, he urged Phineas to rise as well. Then he turned away, giving his back. “Return it to its hiding place, my lord. You should only take it out when absolutely necessary.”
Phin crossed the room, noting that Mishra didn’t shift from his position, though he did speak, his tone tense and urgent.
“I know very little. And what I do know is from stories passed down by warnings and whispers. The truth is known only to those who’d first possessed the piece and suffered its woeful effects.”
“That’s right,” Phineas said as he replaced the oak leaf to his pocket and strode back to the smaller man. “Didn’t you say the honeybee might be a clue as to the family it came from?”
Mishra’s dark features tensed and he glanced away.
A shiver of anticipation raced across Phin’s nape. He narrowed his gaze. “Did you discover the family name? It could help me,” he urged, noting the other man’s obvious reluctance.
Mishra met his questioning gaze. “I shouldn’t tell you.”
“Why not? You just said they are the only ones who could have the true story about the necklace.”
“I would not have this thing bring the curse back to their blood. Many generations have passed and the many descendants have finally found some peace in this world.”
