One With the Shadows Read Online Free PDF Page B

was the best?”
    He had. So she had come to this winding street so narrow the houses nearly touched overhead in the warren of streets known as the Jewish Ghetto. The fact that the man had fled Amsterdam and set up shop in Rome meant he had probably engaged in cutting items with the same lack of provenance as her emerald. “And how good is that?” she asked, her voice polite.
    The mouth went grim. But he wouldn’t order her away for her impudence. A man who spent his life cutting stones would be waiting for the ultimate stone. He wouldn’t chance missing it. Was it the stones themselves or the creation of beauty that fascinated him? Or was it the opportunity to prove his skill? It didn’t matter. She had him. He knew she had him.
    “I cut stones even for Urbano, and he uses only the best.”
    She set her lips. This Urbano creature seemed to haunt her. “That means nothing to me.”
    The jeweler found a small velvet pouch and upended it. Five or six stones rolled into the light. Two were perfectly faceted diamonds as big as the end of her little finger. The others were … rocks. Opaque whitish lumps of irregular stone. “My current project. I am an alchemist.” Pride colored his voice. “I turn these lumps into perfection.” His fingertip touched one of the diamonds, caressing it as though it were a lover. “Or perhaps I only reveal the perfection God created inside them.” He handed her a diamond. She stepped into the light to take it.
    It winked in her palm in cascades of color, a little pyramid that mimicked the sun.
    “Would you like a glass?” He took a jeweler’s loupe from the shadows.
    She shook her head. She would not know what to look for. Where else would she find someone to cut the emerald? Who better did she know? She laid out the money that represented all her progress toward her dreams. The jeweler’s graceful hands scraped it into a drawer. Then she set her box on the worktable. She thought she saw it slide back half an inch. The dread turned into a silent shout of accusation. It was as though the stone didn’t want to be cut.
    Ridiculous.
    The jeweler’s hands were perfectly steady as he opened the lid. Still, he gasped when he saw it. Then he smiled. He reached for his jeweler’s loupe without taking his eyes from the stone. His brows drew together. Was he seeing that coruscating light she found so strange in a cabochon? He ripped off his spectacles and screwed the strange magnifier into his right eye.
    “My God,” he murmured. “I see…” His breath was coming faster. “My grandson … a man. My wife…” Now another sharp intake of breath. “No!” The only eye she could see blinked. “But yes, another view!” What was he talking about? Now he was blinking faster, breathing faster. “Too many! I can’t see!” Then his eyes just went wide. In horror? She wasn’t sure.
    “Sir!” she exclaimed. “What is it?” Tears leaked from his eyes.
    The man began to shake his head, ever so slightly. He sputtered incoherently. This was bad. She went round the worktable and shook his shoulders. He pushed her away and began to laugh, a high, trembling laugh, all the time keeping his gaze fixed upon the stone. Kate glanced toward it and saw the glinting scales of light moving inside.
    “Sir!” she shouted, not caring if it would bring the clerk running. She pulled the jeweler’s loupe from his eye. But it didn’t make any difference. He stared at the stone, laughing hysterically and crying all at once.
    And then he slumped in his chair, shoulders still shaking.
    Kate lunged for the box and snapped the lid closed just as the door to the outer shop opened, casting dim light over the jeweler’s workroom. She slipped the box into her reticule.
    “Master, what is wrong?” The young clerk with the prominent Adam’s apple glanced to his master, and then accusingly to her.
    “He seemed to have a fit,” Kate stammered.
    The clerk came over and pulled him upright. His pale blue eyes