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“You speak with the same tone of Pampinea! What, am I a baby who can’t even feed herself? There is no curfew enforced now.”

“I’m sorry, of course, you are not. It’s just...have you ever spent time in taverns before?”

“Sometimes when traveling.”

“But not by yourself, of course.”

“No. Always with a chaperone.”

“Don’t you think your presence would be obvious, then? What would happen if our thief was there, and learned he was being asked after?”

“I wouldn’t be so obvious. All sorts are mixing who wouldn’t otherwise. Look at you and I, for example. I would never have invited you here in normal times.”

“Exactly, your husband is a man of importance. You don’t think you’ll be recognized?”

“Well... I could wear poor Antonella’s other dress so I’ll look like a maid.”

Ginevra was about to continue her list of reasons why Lucia shouldn’t go, but stopped herself. Who was she to tell an adult woman where she could and could not go? She’d practically begged Lucia to help, and now it was being offered freely. Perhaps it would be good for her, to enact something of her own design. “It’s true the light is low in places such as this...and people have had much to drink, as a rule, before they even walk in the door.”

“Yes!”

“And, I suppose you could just say you’re a new widow joining in by yourself for the first time, because your husband and all your friends are gone.”

“Yes. How depressingly true that is.”

“Alright, then, if you are determined, Lucia, you go with my gratitude. Here, I have some things that will help keep you safe.” Ginevra pulled her little leather bag from her purse, and carefully poured a colorful pile of gemstones onto the table, selecting a transparent wine-colored disk, about the size of a thumbnail. She held it out for Lucia to take.

“What is this lovely thing?”

“It is a purple amethyst, and a very special one. If you keep it under your tongue or in your cheek, you may drink as much as you wish but never feel drunk. In this way, you may benignly loosen the tongues of others while remaining lucid yourself.” She dropped the stone into Lucia’s outstretched palm.

Lucia grew nervous as she looked at the amethyst. She hadn’t expected Ginevra to agree to it so readily.

“Wait—I just thought of something: Even if I were to go to the tavern with the jewel, and speak to rough people, and even if my disguise were convincing enough...to walk the streets alone after dark. It is not wise. Any scoundrel knows he can get away with any crime right now...”

But Ginevra just nodded knowingly. “Don’t worry, I have something for that, too.” She picked up from the pile a golden hexagonal crystal attached to a silver chain, and put it around Lucia’s neck. “This is a heliodor. Hold it in your hand and it will be a torch seen only by yourself and anyone touching you. The light is invisible to all others. It’s so dark now, the moon almost gone, that if you are quiet, you can move about unseen.”

“Oh—so, that solves that issue, then?”

Ginevra beamed.

“I supposed I’d rather not be here to smell all the boiling cat urine, anyhow... Tell me,” she said, stalling for time, “where do you get your wonderful stones?”

Ginevra had never had the chance to show off her collection before. “The most precious to me were given by a dear friend. She is long dead.” Ginevra paused, swallowing hard, waiting for the lump in her throat to leave so she could speak further. Even with all the day’s death, the loss of Vermilia still stung like a new cut whenever Ginevra’s mind landed upon it. She touched the jasper ring on her left hand. Lucia reached out and squeezed her arm.

“So, as I was saying,” said Ginevra, taking a deep breath, “once I learned what to look for, I acquired more gems from merchants and sailors who came into Genoa from their own far-off lands.”

“And where do they find them?”

“From all sorts of frightening places. Some grow in the sea, or in the stomachs of animals, like this bezoar.” She picked up a shiny brown sphere, about the size of a peach pit and with the look of fine polished wood.

“And what is its magic?” asked Lucia, now enthralled.

“If you grate a little bit of it over a poisoned drink, it will render it harmless.”

“You mean, grate it as if it were a nutmeg?”

“Precisely.”