Anubis had convinced his mother of the necessity of splitting up to gather information on Emsaf more efficiently, allowing the fake couple to escape her watchful eye for the rest of the morning. They had agreed to meet again at noon in a local tavern—more of a beer house, as it was called here—that seemed a good balance between upscale and casual, allowing their presence to go unnoticed. It also proved to be a good spot for gathering information, given the number of people constantly entering and leaving the establishment. Situated halfway between the upscale district of Waset and the souk, *Amon's tears* blended popular classes with wealthier households, making it a perfect place to blend into the crowd.

This left Anaïs two good hours to stroll alone with Anubis. The moment Isis disappeared from view, her muscles relaxed instantly. She still had a hard time feeling comfortable around the goddess, especially when she had that determined and relentless look of focus in pursuit of their goal. In those moments, Anaïs felt the slightest misstep or offhand remark might bring down the goddess's wrath, which had already happened several times. However, she had to admit that Isis had mellowed somewhat since attaining her Akh status and agreeing to help them. Anaïs wouldn’t go so far as to say that Isis liked her, but she had certainly risen a few ranks in the goddess’s esteem.

"How about a little stroll through the souk?" Anubis suggested with a mischievous smile. "You seemed disappointed that we only passed through earlier, am I wrong?"

"Really?" she asked, surprise quickly giving way to joy. "What about gathering information? If we return to the inn empty-handed…"

"Nothing is stopping us from doing both at the same time," Anubis began, still with that smug expression. "Emsaf is a man who likes rare and expensive things, including his wine. Given his age, he must have regular suppliers among the traveling merchants. Perhaps some of these nomads know enough about their wealthy client to provide us with useful information…"

Anaïs had to admit she was rather impressed by Anubis’s sharp reasoning. She already suspected he was an intelligent man, but it was another thing entirely to witness it firsthand. She liked this side of the god.

Not that there’s a side I don’t like so far, she mentally acknowledged before refocusing on their conversation.

"How do we figure out which ones might know Emsaf? We can’t just ask every merchant; the souk is huge…"

"Let’s start by questioning the sellers of exotic or ancient artifacts. Given his collection, I have a feeling they’ve all at least met him once. I doubt he misses any opportunity to see if new nomads are showing up in his city."

This also gave Anaïs the perfect excuse to wander through the souk, something she had indeed dreamed of doing before they reached the collector’s house. The crowd had thinned slightly, but the alleyways between stalls were still relatively busy. The working classes were gradually leaving the market to go to work or attend to their daily chores.

For the next hour, she wandered through the souk’s various goods, even trying on some, as the merchants had taken notice of the pair. A wealthy young couple, with the woman’s eyes gleaming with curiosity, was a prime target for the nomads, who tried to lure them to their stalls with offers of exceptional prices or unique items. They draped Anaïs in their clothes, let her taste their dishes and local products, or demonstrated their everyday objects to her. Yet their eyes always turned back to Anubis when they mentioned the price of the merchandise. It was ancient times; such things didn’t surprise her. Especially since, to be honest, they weren’t wrong—she had no money, while Anubis’s satchel was filled with gold coins.

Coins he didn’t hesitate to show when trying to please Anaïs whenever her appreciation for a particular item went beyond casual interest. He bought her a new pair of sandals, far more sophisticated and stylish than the ones she currently wore, as well as a silk shawl with floral and colorful patterns that some noblewomen wore over their heads to shield themselves from the sun. Anaïs doubted it would help much, but she didn’t mind trying it since the sun’s rays, coupled with the heat of her wig, were gradually turning her scalp into a frying pan. Most of the stalls were shaded by large drapes, but not all areas of the souk were as well protected from the blazing sun.

She quickly added to her two new pieces of clothing a selection of food items that her taste buds simply couldn’t resist, especially as they passed a vendor selling dried meats and then another offering a variety of sweets. Anubis had initially suggested that she wait until lunch to eat, arguing that she wouldn’t be hungry by then—according to him, at least. Anaïs easily countered this by assuring him that it would take more than a few snacks to stop her from eating a proper meal at noon. He relented fairly easily with a shrug, which she appreciated. She was quite capable of making her own decisions and accepting the consequences if needed.

"Look," Anubis called out, directing her attention toward a merchant selling exotic art. "Let’s try to ask around here."

This wasn’t the first nomad they’d questioned, but most of their inquiries had led to dead ends. Although Emsaf was relatively well-known among the vendors, many knew very little about the man aside from the fact that he lived in the most eccentric house in Ouaset, had a taste for rare items of all kinds, and never hesitated to spend his gold if he believed the merchandise was worth it. Essentially, he was a valued customer, and they had every reason to recognize his face if they wanted to do good business with the collector and offer him their finest products. He seemed well-liked by the nomadic merchants, and those who had dealt with him described him as very friendly and respectful toward everyone he encountered. In short, no information that was particularly useful to them, but they weren’t ready to give up their investigation just yet.

"He seems to be a cautious man," Anaïs grumbled after yet another round of questioning from the latest nomad yielded nothing. "Maybe we should try asking his neighbors instead. Surely, there are some gossipers among them watching him from afar, trying to get details about his personal life. There always are."

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"True," Anubis chuckled lightly. "Even the Duat isn’t free from that rule. Let’s at least make our way to the city gate before heading back to his neighborhood, just to cover the entire breadth of the souk. You never know."

It was a good attempt, but once again, it proved fruitless. They had combed the souk thoroughly, ensuring they didn’t miss a single traveling merchant who might have had any useful information. They even came across one of the collector’s wine suppliers, who could, without hesitation, tell them which wine would delight his wealthiest client’s palate, yet had no information to offer about his private life. Not for lack of trying, as they’d even attempted to bribe a few people when they suspected they weren’t being entirely honest.

"Let’s start by surveying the neighborhood," Anubis suggested. "If there are shops he frequents regularly, it’d be easier than knocking on doors. In these kinds of areas, everyone knows each other, and our questions could end up raising suspicion."

Anaïs nodded. She couldn’t disagree with the jackal god’s keen insight. The neighborhood was much larger than she had expected, with the sandy-colored stone houses towering far above those in the more modest areas. There were also pockets of greenery, some homes boasting large gardens behind their properties or even surrounding them, with iron gates protecting the land. Most of the villas resembled Anubis’s own in the Duat, with open, airy architecture and an abundance of space.

There were also a few shops scattered around the area. These buildings were smaller than the family homes but maintained well-kept exteriors and clean, inviting interiors. Most were high-end stores selling clothing, jewelry, exotic foods, and entertainment—everything the wealthy coveted. There was no doubt about who their clientele was, for all of them, except for one.

In a small, almost hidden alley, halfway between the upscale neighborhood and a slightly more modest one, a particular shop stood out. This establishment was larger than the other boutiques. Several pillars adorned the front of the building, giving it the appearance of an important monument. Yet, the walls were made of simple stone, without even a drawing or splash of color like she had seen elsewhere. It was a mix of grandeur and extreme simplicity. Only a few hieroglyphs carved above the large door gave any indication of what kind of products were sold here—hieroglyphs that Anaïs couldn’t understand.

"What is this?" she had to ask as they stopped not far from the building.

"A sort of private clinic," Anubis revealed, stepping closer to read the hieroglyphs. "Most likely a doctor or apothecary. I don't think he'll have the information we're after."

"It’s worth a try, isn’t it? This is exactly the kind of semi-hidden place where the wealthy come to discreetly get treated for their little ailments. If anyone knows anything about his private life, it’s probably his doctor."

"Maybe you're right… Let’s give it a shot."

The entrance led into a small hall overflowing with various objects. Shelves lining the four walls were crammed with papyri, flasks, and small pots, except for two doors on the right and one open door at the back, leading to a modest garden with a fountain about twenty centimeters high at its center. On the floor, there were a few animal sculptures in the corners, some green potted plants, and jars scattered here and there. The overall effect was a cheerful, organized chaos, seemingly designed for its owner, who soon appeared to greet them.

"Good day, sir, madam," an elderly man with a slow gait greeted them. "Welcome to the House of Apepi, apothecaries and healers for generations. I do not recognize your faces… Is this your first visit?"

He must have been at least seventy years old, judging by the wrinkles that adorned his face. He wore a pristine white tunic and a few pieces of jewelry around his neck and wrists, a sign of his family’s wealth. Tending to the wealthy families of Ouaset must have been a particularly lucrative business.

"Yes," they both nodded.

"For generations, the children of our family have learned medicine and herbology to offer the best care to the dignitaries and wealthiest households of Ouaset. Some serve exclusively in important families of the city or have chosen the nomadic path. As for the rest of us, we work right here in our clinic, sharing our knowledge with those in need, who know where to find us. May I ask what ailments have brought you to us today?"

Anaïs turned her head toward Anubis, uncertain about what to say. Should they pretend to need a consultation, or reveal the true reason for their visit right away? They weren’t even sure if the old man’s family actually took care of Emsaf. Plus, she had no idea if healers were bound by some form of doctor-patient confidentiality, but she doubted they would simply hand over private information about their clients just because two strangers had kindly asked for it.

"What can you tell us about Emsaf, the collector?" Anubis asked politely, deciding to jump right in.

"I’m afraid I cannot divulge confidential information like that," the old man responded immediately with a smile, "but I suppose you have the means to pay for a spiritual consultation, don’t you?"

If Anubis was as surprised as Anaïs, he didn’t show it, maintaining an expression of calm, as though everything had gone exactly according to plan. Without hesitation, he reached into his pouch, pulling out a few gold coins, and letting them roll between his fingers before the old man’s eyes. The apothecary smiled in satisfaction and then led them to his office through one of the doors on the right, which was just as cluttered as the main hall. He motioned for them to sit in two armchairs set aside for that purpose.

"I cannot reveal confidential information," he reiterated as he took his seat, "but if the gods decide to enlighten you and answer your questions through this humble disciple, well, that’s beyond my control."

Anaïs had to resist the urge to roll her eyes or snort in disdain at the old man’s charlatan speech. If only he knew that he was sitting in front of a god who was well aware that deities neither communicated telepathically with the living nor were omniscient beings with all the answers, as he seemed to believe. Surely, he wouldn't bother with this whole charade.

"You seek to obtain something in his possession, do you not?" the old man continued, squinting slightly as though trying to read their minds.

"Yes," Anubis confirmed. "Something he refuses to part with, at any price. We’d like to know why or what might change his mind."

The old man pondered for a moment, rubbing his chin in an exaggerated display of deep thought. The silence stretched for several long seconds, so much so that Anaïs briefly wondered if his mind had wandered off completely.

"Emsaf isn’t in the habit of refusing to sell anything, especially if you offer a more than generous price," the man finally said. "The only reason the gods whisper to me… would be that the item is connected to his daughter. You see, his dear daughter has suffered from repeated and painful convulsions for many years now. It’s a condition that also took his wife from him five years ago. He has come to us many times for help, but sadly… it’s an illness we do not understand, and none of our medicines have worked. I don’t know what it is that you wish to acquire, but he must have decided that it might help his daughter."

Of course! If Emsaf learned that the items belonged to a god—or at least were magical—he likely thought they could cure his daughter! Anaïs concluded mentally, turning to Anubis with a smile, thrilled that they had finally unraveled the mystery surrounding the collector.