Msaka rose and called his staff to hand, then proceeded to send the small chest to his home, reasoning that its absence would make pinning the statuette's disappearance upon him more difficult for the trader or city guard. Even in the event the statuette was found in his possession, it would probably be difficult for the trader to prove it belonged to him in the first place.

Unfortunately, he couldn't secret the statuette away using the same method, since those tending his hut would soon find it. Instead, he proceeded to cast the Ritual of Shielding upon it, hoping that its inherent nature would not disrupt his ward. Upon completing the spell, he stared hard at the relic, casting a quick detection spell. The statuette remained inert to his divination, apparently having accepted his protective magic. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it would at least prevent the trader from tracking it down with magical help.

He briefly considered taking it out to the desert and hiding it with the elemental, but decided to find out what caravans were leaving first. After all, it would make little sense to hide the thing away only to have to go fetch it again a short time later. Scooping the statuette from the table, he stowed it away in his pack, taking care to place it so that it would not get damaged.

"Now I just need to speak with the gate guard tomorrow morning," he thought. "That person always seems to know when caravans are coming and going." He slid his pack under the table where it was less obvious, just in case anyone came in during the rest of the night, then paced over to the bed and stretched out upon it, flexing his hands as he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come. Now that he knew what had been disrupting his slumber, it was a fairly simple task to block the statuette's presence from his mind, and he soon drifted into quiet dreams.

He woke as the first light of dawn began to brighten the sky, feeling restless in spite of the small amount of sleep he'd had. He was anxious to be gone from Shapier, knowing that either of his recent acquisitions might land him in serious trouble. It was fortunate that, so far, no one seemed to consider him suspect in the water elemental's disappearance. Perhaps too fortunate - Aziza in particular must surely have heard and suspected by now, and her apparent lack of action in the matter just made him all the more edgy.

"She has not even tried to talk to me about it," he thought as he rose from the bed and readied himself for the day. "And given how serious it was, she certainly can't be considering it too trivial to bother with." He stopped to ponder what little he knew of her magical skills. Perhaps she was simply unwilling to accuse him without proof - proof which her divinations would be unable to obtain, owing to his wards.

That must be it, he concluded, sitting down on the bed again. The only way she could obtain the proof is by someone witnessing him with the elemental - which meant that wherever he went, there was a very good chance someone would be trying to spy on him. Even leaving with a caravan wouldn't solve the problem - she might well communicate with someone in the caravan and persuade them to search his belongings.

He scowled, thumping a fist against the bed in annoyance. He'd have to leave the elemental hidden where it was and retrieve it another time - only that would most likely mean he'd have to come back through Shapier on his way home, a prospect that displeased him greatly. It was ultimately preferable to being caught with it in his possession though, and perhaps by the time he came back, the matter would have been forgotten.

He stood abruptly and stalked to the door, glancing back at the room to make certain he hadn't forgotten anything. He knew it probably wouldn't turn out to be that easy. Something invariably seemed to end up complicating matters during this expedition. Still, it was the only safe way.

He pushed the door open and strode out through the inn. As he passed through the common room, he spotted the trader talking angrily with the innkeeper out of the corner of one eye, but deliberately avoided glancing over towards where the two stood, maintaining a bored expression as he walked over to the front door. Reaching it, he felt a small twinge of guilt at leaving the innkeeper to deal with the trader's anger, but was satisfied at the obvious note of distress in the trader's voice. No doubt losing the statuette would cost him dearly from a financial perspective, but it was insignificant compared to the price that the people in Msaka's home region might already be paying. He swung the door open and stepped through into the cool morning air, careful to keep up his neutral facade even as the trader railed on to the innkeeper how his waiting investors would take the cost of the statuette out on his hide.

Only when he'd pulled the inn door shut behind him did he allow himself to smile.