Page 26 of After 5

“Sure,” Mr. Raney said.

George helped his father stand, and they made a right inside the small farmhouse.

Ace and I looked at each other. “Go. Go!” He swished his fingers at me.

We scooted around to the front of the house and planted ourselves in a hedge of Red-tipped Photinia under an open window.

The sound of Mr. Raney’s graveled voice floated outside with the floral curtains as they blew in the lazy breeze.

I snuck a peek between the curtains. The men were in the main room of the house. Mr. Raney sat in a patched fabric chair. Caiyan and George stood examining a shiny sword racked above the fireplace.

“Take ’er down gently now, son, no sense in losing a finger. She may be old, but she still has a bite.”

“Don’t worry, Papa, the sword’s in its scabbard.”

“Right. My eyesight ain’t what it used to be.”

George removed the sword hanging above the mantle of the stone fireplace and handed it to Caiyan.

Caiyan held the sheath out at arm’s length and gave a long, low whistle. “May I?” he asked Mr. Raney.

The older man nodded. Caiyan unsheathed the sword.

“It’s a beaut. Ain’t it?” George beamed at Caiyan.

“Don’t believe I’ve ever seen one in such fine condition.”

I had. It was the same sword Caiyan had stolen from a museum in New York and stashed in his treasure collection. I recognized the fancy handle.

I remembered there had been some engraving on the blade, but I couldn’t recall reading the inscription. I was annoyed with Caiyan when he showed me his treasure room, and so I didn’t pay attention to the minor details.

Mr. Raney started another coughing fit. “Let me get you another drink from the well, Papa,” George said, leaving the room.

Caiyan pulled something from his pocket and palmed it in his right hand. When Mr. Raney started to cough again, he ran his hand across the blade several times. A rough sound of rock against metal added to the coughing. Caiyan slid the sword back into the scabbard.

The son returned from the well, and the man took a long drink from the dipper.

Ace cringed next to me. “Blimey.” Germs were not his thing.

I put a finger to my lips, “Shush it.”

If Caiyan caught us, we could jeopardize the entire mission. He had damaged the sword, and I had a good idea why. It was the information to a key.

“That’s a mighty fine sword you have here, Mr. Raney,” Caiyan said. “It should be in a museum.”

Mr. Raney cleared his throat. “A good friend gave me that sword. He was a doctor.”

“How about I purchase this sword from you and take it to a museum?” The urgency in Caiyan’s voice had me worried.

“I don’t know…” Mr. Raney said.

“We sure could use the extra money, Papa. Crops haven’t been producing as well, and my granddaughter needs that operation for her feet,” George said.

“I reckon it’d be better off hangin’ in a museum than here.”

“How about five hundred dollars?” Caiyan asked. “And I’ll make sure it has a placard with your name as the donator underneath.”

George’s eyes grew wide at the amount Caiyan offered.

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