Page 87 of Ruling Destiny

And if so, what exactly does it mean that the hourglass was flipped upside down to show time running out?

Is it a nod toward this time right now—the end of the Renaissance?

And if so, then what about the crown?

In the tarocchi deck, the High Priestess is portrayed as a woman sitting on a gold bench, wearing a crown over a wimple. In one hand, she holds a scepter; in the other, she balances a book on her knee. On the map, the crown is tilted sideways, and assuming it was portrayed that way on purpose, the question is why—what could it possibly mean?

I shake my head, start to wander about the space, delighted to have it all to myself while just outside those doors, the streets are erupting into chaos.

Okay, let’s see…the crown is a circle, symbolizing immortality, eternity…the coronation itself signifying a union with the divine, which again assures me I’m in the right place. But why it’s depicted that way, I have no idea.

As for the hourglass, it marks the passage of time and the inevitability of death. And yet, the hourglass also resembles the number eight, which placed on its side is also the sign of infinity. Also, the hourglass can restart time, allowing for a sort of rebirth, merely by flipping it over and starting again.

And what about that crystal on theSalvator Mundi?

I told Arthur it represented the Moon, and I still believe that to be true. But it also resembles a crystal ball—the sort of tool used by psychics, mediums, and other adepts—allowing one to see into the future or gaze into the past.

Did Leonardo da Vinci know about the location of the Moon?

And if so, is he sending a message through that painting that the Moon I’m looking for is hidden somewhere that’ll soon be lost from the world if I don’t find it quickly?

I close my eyes and summon an image of that painting, focusing on those three points of white on the crystal that, according to most scholars, are meant to represent the sort of occlusions that are normally found on rock crystal. Just another sign of Leonardo’s devotion to getting the details just right.

Others claim they represent a constellation.

But the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that those three dots point to something else entirely.

After all, Leonardo was also known for his passion for creating and solving puzzles. So is it possible that those three dots are a message of some kind?

There’s definitely a connection. I can feel it in my bones. I just don’t know what or how, but I’m determined to figure it out.

I’ve made my way to the pulpit when the door suddenly bangs open and a roaring crowd rushes into the space. And when I turn, I find myself locking eyes with Savonarola himself.

A man who’s so sure he’s the one and only human conduit to God, and yet, he has no way of knowing that soon, these same people will become so disillusioned with him, they’ll cheer as they watch him burn.

I try to duck my head and turn away, but it’s too late.

“You there!” Savonarola shouts, pointing at me. “Have you given up your vanities? Or have you chosen eternal damnation?”

As the crowd turns on me, hundreds of fevered gazes directed my way, my fingers instinctively reach for my dagger. But who am I kidding? I’m completely outnumbered.

Knowing my shaky Italian will only put me at risk, I bend my head in feigned reverence and pray to whoever might be listening that this zealot will soon remove his focus from me.

“Come!” he shouts, voice cracking like thunder. “Come join us, child, and let us repent for our sins.”

Savonarola takes his place at the pulpit, launching into a hellfire sermon. And as the crowd surges forward, I start to edge my way back when, from out of nowhere, a hand clamps over my mouth, an arm clutches hard at my waist, and I’m hauled backward, heels dragging, as I’m lugged out of the cathedral and onto the street.

51

“First things first—do you know who you are, or evenwhenyou are?”

Killian whispers into my ear, but with his hand clamped over my mouth, I can only manage a nod.

“Good.” He breathes a sigh of relief. “Good,” he says again. “So, now that you’ve proved you’re not in a Fade—have you gone completely mad?” He grips my waist so tightly, I struggle for breath. “Seriously, Shiv—have you lost your fucking mind? What the hell do you think you’re doing getting caught up in this mess? Or perhaps you’ve decided to join Savonarola’s army of zealots—is that it?”

He pulls me into an alleyway and pins me up against a wall. And though he lifts his hand from my mouth, his grip is so tight, there’s little chance of freeing myself.

“I knew it wouldn’t be easy Tripping with you.” His gaze cuts right through me. “But this is ridiculous. I don’t know if you’re poorly trained, or just wildly impulsive, or both. But you cannot—absolutely cannot, under any circumstances—pull a stunt like this again.” He shakes his head. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”

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