Chapter 18
The Collar of the Two Skies
“I’m so glad to see you, Dad! I can’t wait for you to tell me everything. Did you meet Noel? Your friend is as full of life as ever!”
“Well said, son! Come, take your coffee, or better yet, let’s make one for him too and head over to Noel’s!”
“Through the yard or the front door?” Anemo asked while preparing another mug of his “mummy-waking” potion.
“Through the front door, like the civilized people we are, son. I can’t wait to see the look on his face!”
Silence settled over Anemo’s kitchen, interrupted only by the buzz of a stray fly and Sirocco’s hurried breathing. The khaki backpack, left “to be tempted” by the table leg, was now their great challenge.
“Now is the moment!” Mistral muttered, positioning himself strategically on the tiles. “Kiddo, show us what you fished out of the Professor’s ‘cave.’ But be careful, it’s an arfefact, not a chew toy!”
Sirocco didn't hesitate. With a determined tug, he pulled out the Collar of the Two Skies. The cord of raw silk and electrum wrapped briefly around his orange paw, and the central bead hit the floor with a mystical chime.
“Mistral, Aeolus... look! It’s too shady here in the kitchen for such a big bliz-bliz! We have to take it out into the sun to see if that blue ‘eye’ opens all the way!”
Without waiting for the approval of the furry “senate,” Sirocco bolted toward the half-open back door, dragging the necklace behind him. Once on the threshold, in the raw, golden light of the early May sun, the mystical bead seemed to explode in color.
The glossy navy side of the night caught the sky's reflections, becoming so deep it looked like a wormhole to another world. The gold sun on the other side of the bead sparkled so brightly that Sirocco had to blink repeatedly, his amber eyes wide with wonder.
“oo! Mistral, come look! This arfefact... it doesn’t just shine. It... it ‘speaks’ to the sun! It’s like a piece of the sky the Professor caught in his backpack!”
Aeolus, reaching the threshold as well, watched fascinated as the bead projected small spots of navy and gold light onto Sirocco’s orange fur.
“I’ve seen this thing somewhere before! Look, Mistral—doesn’t your feline wisdom tell you anything? Doesn’t your intuition light a bulb? Honestly, I don’t think this is a replica!”
“It looks impressive, you’re right, but I don’t think the Professor would bring original artefacts home. He’s a professional. The laptop lid is up; do you want to search the net? Let Sirocco enjoy his game, and while the Professor and Anemo are at Noel’s, we can search.”
In a flash, the two were at the round kitchen table, navigating the internet in search of the Collar of the Two Skies, as Aeolus remembered it was called. The little mouse’s paws danced over the keys until a screen with the logo of the Museum of Antiquities in Cairo lit up before them.
“There it is! Right there in the main display case!” Aeolus whispered, pointing his paw at the monitor.
On the screen, an official photo of the artefact appeared, protected by a thick pane of glass, with the caption:
“Exhibit no. 1420: The Electrum Collar of the Priestess of Bastet (Original). The central piece is a unique spherical bead, divided chromatically: the day register, a solar turquoise enamel with a gold disk, and the night register, made of a mysterious glossy navy enamel, upon which floats a silver crescent moon. It was believed in antiquity that this object gave the wearer the power to transcend human forms, transforming them into a free spirit. The object is considered priceless and is under permanent guard.”
Mistral stared at the screen, then turned hisblack head toward the door, where Sirocco was just kicking the bliz-bliz as it jingled cheerfully across the floor.
“Mon Dieu, Aeolus... the Professor’s replica is simply scandalous! It’s identical! Even that glossy navy reflection they describe on the site... look at it sparkling in the kiddo’s paws.”
“You’re right, Mistral. It’s a masterly execution. You’d think it was made with the same ancient chisel. If I didn’t see on the site that the original is under guard in Cairo, I’d bet my paw that the kiddo is playing with ‘solidified night’ right now. But this replica doesn’t have the powers written here... I mean, that story about transforming into a white cat is just a myth, right?”
“Bien sûr, Aeolus! Just a myth for tourists. But... have you noticed? Sirocco can’t seem to get enough of it. And that navy light... it seems too alive for a simple piece of modern enamel.”
The two furry ones stood in silence for a second, watching the perfect “replica” pulsing in Sirocco’s paws.
“Let’s rather see what else the Professor has in his backpack! !What else has the Simoon brought along?"
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