Page 82 - Fearless Females

Dragon: Drop that Icon!

“Yes,” said Mikhaila, sincerity and perspiration oozing from every
pore. “I know the stock on hand in this man’s shop, and he has
recently obtained an important collection of rare and beautiful
antique samovars. If we act quickly, I am almost certain that he will
take those icons off your hands in trade for the samovars. They are
just the thing for this cave: imagine the contrast of blackened sooty
walls with the lustrous curves of polished brass and silver. The
luminous effects are endless, given the variations in natural light you
provide in here, and the metal has a much higher melting point than
wood and paint—you could go for centuries without worrying about
conservation, and your insurance premiums would be cut in half.”
“Samovars, eh?” Draco sat down on his haunches and squinted at
the wall against which the icons were carelessly propped. “Hmm.
You may have something there. Yes, they certainly bespeak a lifestyle
of studied grace and elegance, an appreciation of indigenous artisans
at the peak of their craft, a delight to the eye and a balm for the soul.
All right. You’ve got a deal: I’ll drop those icons.”

81