I touched my necklace. “The ruby in my necklace. Is that from sunken treasure?” The thought had suddenly occurred to me, but I truly thought he was going to laugh.
“Sì,” he said. “But the world won’t know where it came from. Only us.”
He didn’t even have to add—or pirates might come looking forme.
Shit. I had a feeling that someday someone might try to chop my ring finger off for the engagement ring and wedding band he’d given me. I touched the chain around my throat— they might go for my jugular if they knew where the heart-shaped ruby came from. It truly looked like blood inside of a heart.
By the time I looked up, Capo was heading away from me, probably to meet Captain and his crew.
“Capo,” I called, and he stopped. “Does the ruby have a story?”
“Captain said it belonged to a wealthy widow. Her husband gave it to her. He wrote in a letter that the stone was blood from his heart for her to wear.”
“She was lost at sea?”
He nodded. “And he was killed in battle.”
Fucka me.
7
CAPO
The gold in my wife’s hazel eyes reflected the gold staring back at her. Not only gold, but silver and emeralds, as well. The treasure was part of Captain’s hunt. He said the things they found, including jewelry, dated back anywhere from the 1500s to the middle 1600s. He said the emeralds were from Colombia’s Muzo Mine. The finest in the world.
Mariposa was taking all of this in, nodding at Captain when he showed her this or that, her eyes widening.
“How do you know the dates? How do you know where it all came from?”
Captain looked at her and smiled. “Records. Mostly from the ship's manifest, which documents whatever the ship carried at the time. I could tell by looking at those emeralds, though, that they were quality. I’ve been doing this long enough to tell. And if it was worth its weight on a ship back then, it was worth something.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
Captain looked at me and grinned before he looked back at Mariposa. “I spent my entire life on the water. My father was captain of his own ship. Or, ships, I should say.”
Some of the gold coins, jewelry, and emeralds were laid out on a black velvet surface in a secret room on the yacht. Mariposa motioned to it, asking for permission to touch a necklace. It was long, mid-chest length, and had a cross at the end with three emeralds set into the filagree gold. The ring next to it sported another emerald set in gold, two heralding angels on each side.
“One of the Faustis is going to use those —” Captain chucked his head toward the pile of loose emeralds “—to make somethin’ for his wife. Says her eyes are the same color.”
Mariposa didn’t ask who, but she smiled like she knew. Brando Fausti’s wife had green eyes.
She ran her hand over the length of the gold, picked up the ring and examined it, set it down and then picked up something that looked like an egg.
“Tell me about this,” she said, lifting it up.
“Ah.” Captain winked at her. “Interesting stone, to be sure.”
He told her it was a bezoar stone, gave her the origin for it (Persian), and told her what it means. “Antidote. You ever heard of it?”
“Antidote, yeah,” she said, grinning. “But a bezoar stone— no.”
“Most people have heard of it connected to magic.” He laughed, seeing her face. “It’s partly true, but it’s notrealmagic. Those stones are found in the stomach and intestines of animals. Sometimes humans. It’s a buildup of undigested material that hardens. Calcium and magnesium phosphate turn to stone around whatever’s there—plant fiber or pebble, say—and stomach contractions create the shape of it.”
Mariposa set the stone back on the table. “Why would anyone want that?” She chucked her chin toward it, folding her arms. I grinned; I could tell she wanted to wash her hands.
Captain looked amused with her, but not in a patronizing way. “It was believed to be magical back in the day. Arabiandoctors started using them in the 8thcentury and introduced them to western medicine in the 12thas an antidote for arsenic. Arsenic was apopular choice back in the day to assassinate European nobles.”
At this, her eyes darted to mine. I wanted to grin again but suppressed it. She was looking at me like she thought I needed one.
