Page 45 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars
“Morning.” She looks at Fraser, who’s arched an eyebrow, and drops her gaze to the skeleton. She clears her throat. “Yes, Dinornis robustus in all his glory.”
“Wow, I’ve never seen one of these.”
“It’s from a box of finds excavated from a cave in Nelson just a few months ago. I don’t think they realized what treasure was inside.”
I smile. “You’d be more excited to find moa bones than you would a coffer full of pieces of eight from a pirate ship.”
“I would,” she says. “Look at this.” She beckons me closer. “In the past, archaeologists reconstructed moa skeletons in an upright position, which was why everyone thought they were really tall. But look at their vertebral articulations. I think they probably carried their heads forward, like a kiwi. The spine would have been attached here, to the rear of the head, not the base, so they could graze on low vegetation and also lift their heads to the trees.”
“Fascinating,” I say, drawing up a stool so I can sit next to her. Fraser sits on the opposite side of the table, apparently not keen to leave me alone with her.
Ignoring him, I rest on the table, my arm close to hers, and lean forward to look at some small rings of bone where the bird’s windpipe would be. “What are these?”
“I’m glad you spotted those. They’re tracheal rings. Their trachea were up to a meter long, and they’re the only ratites that have them.”
“Ratites?”
“Sorry, it’s a group of flightless birds. Swans and cranes have them. The bones show that they probably would have had deep, resonant calls that would have traveled long distances.”
The color has faded a little from her face, and her eyes flash with passion. I love how excited she is about her discovery. It reminds me of fourteen-year-old Elora showing me the drawings of stoat skulls she’d made in her sketchbook. She’d been passionate, focused, and talented even then. And beautiful. She’d started to develop curves, and although she hadn’t been allowed to wear makeup, her stunning English-rose complexion had yet to develop any sign of teenage acne, and she’d had a soft, dewy glow that had appealed greatly to the lad who appreciated beauty in all its forms.
She’s looking at me now, her big blue eyes wide, and I realize she must have asked me a question.
“Sorry?” I say. “I was distracted for a moment. Bird bones tend to do that to me.”
Fraser snorts. Elora’s lips curve up. “I asked whether you’d had any luck with your calls and emails today.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. Good news and bad news. I heard from Tucker’s colleague. Unfortunately his friend died recently.”
“Ah, no.”
“Yeah. Apparently, the guy’s son is clearing out his house. I got the phone number of the son and called him. He lives in Arrowtown. His dad was an antique dealer and left behind lots of items. He’s going to check out some boxes and see if he can find anything.”
“Had he heard his father mention the ring?” Fraser asks.
“He said it sat on the mantelpiece in a box when he was young.”
Both of their jaws drop. “Seriously?” Elora says.
“Yeah. He hasn’t seen it for a while though. Hopefully it’s in one of those boxes.”
Her eyes light up. “That’s amazing.”
I smile. “Cross fingers we’ll hear today.”
“Did you call the Edmunds in the phone book?” Fraser asks.
I nod, and my lips twist. “It turned out to be the first one I rang.”
Elora gasps. “Linc!”
“What?”
“Oh my God, that should have been the first thing you told me.”
“I thought the ring was more important.”
She pushes me. “Of course it isn’t. This is your father we’re talking about! What happened?”
