“Seriously?” “I thought you’d like to have it.” Bryce gaped at Valois. They were back where they’d started, in Cairo at his villa, all of them his guests until a rental property was arranged for Kat and her siblings. Supper was over, the weary travelers off to their rooms, but Valois had asked Bryce to join him in his private quarters. He’d just opened a locked safe and pulled out a glorious weapon, and Bryce studied it in amazement. It was too long to be called a knife, but too short to be a sword. It was what a Bedouin might have wielded in olden times, swinging it to lop off heads as he rode past his enemies on a camel. It looked ancient and exquisitely crafted, the hilt made of gold and inlaid with gemstones, mostly emeralds and rubies. A leather sheath had been designed for it too, the leather tooled with odd scrolling and even more gems pounded into it. It was magnificent and deadly and Valois was claiming it had belonged to Bryce’s father. Before Bryce had trotted off to the desert with Kat, he’d stayed with Valois for several weeks, and while Valois had admitted to having been friends with Bryce’s father many years earlier, he hadn’t mentioned being in possession of any of his father’s things.
