Rarities Unlimited 02 - Running Scared

the pin from Smith-White and examine it more closely.
    “May I?” Shane asked, holding out his hand.
    “Of course. Would you like gloves?” Smith-White held out a pair. “Extra large, like your hands.”
    “I’d prefer not to,” Shane said. “That’s why I collect gold. High-karat gold doesn’t tarnish with brief handling. But you know your gold. If this won’t take any contact with bare skin . . .”
    Smith-White wasn’t about to say that he thought the gold was inferior. Nor was he going to remove his own gloves. Saying nothing, he dropped the spare gloves on the table.
    “Would you like me to lift the brooch from the tray?” Smith-White asked evenly.
    “Please,” Shane said.
    With no wasted motions, Risa snapped on her own surgical gloves. The less the surface of the gold was contaminated by handling, the easier it would be to answer questions in the lab. And she had a feeling there were going to be lots of questions.
    She only wished the answers would be what she wanted to hear.
    With narrowed eyes she watched Smith-White pass the brooch over to her boss. She looked at Shane, not at the object itself. Though she couldn’t point to any single change that came over him when he held the brooch, she knew that he would buy it.
    He glanced at her, saw that she understood, and didn’t know whether to be annoyed that she saw what no one else could or pleased because it saved time. He studied the brooch, turned it over with a deft motion of his hand, and passed the gold on to her.
    Even through gloves, the feel of the gold was almost hot against her skin rather than cold. An odd whisper of sensation went up her arm. She hadn’t felt anything like it since Wales. She hadn’t wanted to feel anything like it ever again.
    She pulled a jeweler’s loupe from her pocket and examined the brooch. At 10x magnification the integrity of the etched designs leaped into high relief. Curving, abstract in places, startlingly real when curves became bird heads and took flight in a series of diminishing inverted Vs. The spaces between repetitions of the central design flared bloodred with an enameling technique that hadn’t lost color or crispness to the passing centuries.
    “I’d like better light,” she said after a moment. “And, Mr. Tannahill, my job will be easier if you wear gloves in the future.”
    Only Risa saw the flicker of surprise on his face. She had never insisted before. Without a word he took the spare gloves Smith-White was holding out to him again.
    “May I?” she asked Smith-White, gesturing toward her work area.
    He waved his hand, giving her permission to examine the brooch under any light she wanted.
    On one of her worktables there was a bright, full-spectrum light framing an oversized ten-power magnifying glass on a swing arm. She used it when she wanted to have her hands free for drawing or taking notes while examining an artifact. What she wanted now was the binocular 10x to 30x zoom microscope that was on the second table. She pulled over her rolling chair, positioned the brooch, adjusted the zoom . . . and felt time flowing over her in a soundless rush that stole her very breath.
    An artist holding the brooch, dreaming the designs, incising the symbols in solid gold. Every stroke a prayer to the gods who ruled sky and lightning and sun-blaze, the burning wheel of life turning and returning, and man so small, so weak, so weary . . .
    Risa blew out a breath, shook off the waking dream, and forced herself to concentrate on the here and now.
    The artifact was handmade. Definitely. The irregularities were reassuring. They gave the piece a feeling of warmth where so much machine-made jewelry could be cold. The design was classically Celtic—a series of abstract, sinuous lines that “flowered” periodically into a three-part design that evoked bird heads. Throughout the circle of the brooch there were three such flowerings with three “leaves” each, and the second of each of the three leaves was intricately enameled in red glass. A zigzag of raised gold separated the enameled from the plain gold in a design that suggested both a wheel and an eye. The bird head on either side of the enameled design had a smaller version of the complex, three-part design cut into the metal itself.
    The long, tapering pin was decorated with the same design. Somehow the artist had managed to adjust the design so that the proportions remained balanced along the narrowing length of the fastening