Page 41 of The Slug Crystal
Maria's lips twitch in what might almost be a smile. She waves us through with a final warning glance at the terrarium. "Enjoy your stay in Venice. And keep that snail contained."
We move past her booth in a daze, none of us speaking until we're safely beyond the customs area. My legs feel wobbly with relief, my heart still racing like I've just run a marathon. Dr. Rossi walks alongside us, his stride leisurely and confident.
Once we're clear of the customs hall, Jake turns to Dr. Rossi, his expression a mix of gratitude and suspicion. "That was... impressive. Thank you."
Dr. Rossi shrugs modestly. "Academic credentials can be quite useful in navigating bureaucracy. Fortunately, Officer Maria seems to have a respect for scientific research."
I clutch the terrarium closer, staring at this strange man who appeared out of nowhere to save us. "Those papers—what were they actually for?"
Dr. Rossi's eyes crinkle with amusement behind his glasses. "My university department's research permits for various mollusk studies. Nothing specifically about your blue friend there, but similar enough to pass a cursory inspection."
I swallow hard, not sure whether to be relieved or worried that we've attracted the attention of an actual snail expert.
"Well," Luca says, clapping Dr. Rossi on the shoulder, "we owe you a drink, at minimum. But first, let's get out of this airport before Officer Maria changes her mind."
As we head toward the exit, I feel a weight lift from my shoulders. We made it through customs. We're in Venice. And somehow, against all odds, Alex is still with us.
The automatic doors slide open, and the air outside Marco Polo Airport hits me like a wet towel to the face. It’s dense with moisture, and carrying the unmistakable tang of saltwater. I inhale deeply, still clutching Alex's terrarium to my chest as if Maria might burst through the terminal doors and confiscate him. Venice sprawls beyond the transport plaza, a mirage of domes and spires rising from the lagoon. We made it. We actually made it. The group of us linger outside, needing to decide next steps.
I turn to Dr. Rossi, who's adjusting the strap of his messenger bag with the casual air of someone who hasn't just rescued four strangers and a snail from an international incident.
"You literally saved us back there," I say, my voice still shaky with residual adrenaline. "I don't know how to thank you."
Dr. Rossi waves away my gratitude with an elegant flick of his wrist. "It was nothing. Academic credentials can open many doors, or in this case, borders." His eyes crinkle at his own joke, then drift down to the terrarium in my arms. "May I?"
I hesitate, then nod, tilting the terrarium slightly so he can get a better look. Alex has emerged from his shell, his antennae extended as if he is curious about his surroundings. Dr. Rossi leans closer, his breath fogging the glass.
"This is actually a fascinating specimen," he remarks, his fingers hovering just above the terrarium. "The ceruleanpigmentation is most unusual. I've studied Mediterranean land snails for twenty years and never encountered this particular phenotype."
Jake shifts his weight, subtly positioning himself between me and Dr. Rossi. "We should get moving," he says, his voice tight. "Find transportation into the city."
Dr. Rossi straightens up, seemingly unperturbed by Jake's protective stance. "You're heading into Venice proper? The water taxi is your best option this time of day. The bus will be crowded with tourists."
Ben studies Dr. Rossi with narrowed eyes, his usual easy charm replaced with something sharper. "So, you're really a snail expert? That wasn't just a line for customs?"
"Gastropod researcher," Dr. Rossi corrects mildly. "Though 'snail expert' is certainly more concise at cocktail parties." He extends a hand to Ben. "Dr. Marco Rossi, professor of malacology at Ca' Foscari University. My specialty is endemic terrestrial mollusks of the Mediterranean basin."
Ben shakes his hand, his skepticism not entirely erased. "Convenient that you happened to be right behind us."
Dr. Rossi laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "The universe works in mysterious ways, doesn't it? Though in this case, I was simply returning from a conference in London. Pure coincidence, I assure you."
Luca watches this exchange with barely concealed amusement, leaning against a column with his arms folded. "Well, coincidence or not, you saved us from a night in Italian customs detention, which I've experienced before and do not recommend."
I can't take my eyes off Dr. Rossi as he continues to examine Alex through the glass. Something is soothing about his scholarly interest, as if Alex's blue shell is just a scientific curiosity rather than the result of my drunken revenge spell.
"What brings you to Venice?" Dr. Rossi asks, glancing up at me. "Besides this remarkable specimen, of course."
I exchange looks with Jake, Ben, and Luca, unsure how much to share. "We're looking for someone," I say finally. "A woman named Sarah DeMarco. She might be able to help with... a problem we have."
Dr. Rossi's eyebrows lift slightly. "Sarah DeMarco," he repeats, rolling the name on his tongue. "The name sounds familiar, though I can't place it immediately."
"She deals in... alternative remedies," I say carefully. "Crystals, potions, that sort of thing."
"Ah." Dr. Rossi's expression shifts, not to dismissal as I'd expected, but to thoughtful consideration. "The esoteric community in Venice is quite close-knit. If she's established herself here, I might be able to help you locate her."
My pulse quickens. "You know people in that... community?"
He smiles enigmatically. "Venice has a long history of alchemists, mystics, and seekers of unusual knowledge. The university maintains cordial relationships with various practitioners—for historical and cultural research purposes, naturally."
