Page 26 of In Just a Year
“Whatever it may be, it’s not relevant unless it’s with her.”
Greg rubbed his eyes with the bases of his palms. “You Klonmimuses are unbelievable.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ben realized that Greg didn’t mean to insult him but he bristled against any attack on his brothers, no matter how faint or friendly the intention.
“You’re all the same. You’re the perfect tame boys until something snaps and then you transform into ferocious wolves who claim their girls and forever defend their hearts.”
Ben squinted, waiting to hear where Greg was taking this odd observation.
“You’re like the perfect heroes from a romance novel!” Greg chuckled. “Perfectly in love.”
“I fail to see why that’s bad,” Ben mumbled.
“Because you can’t function outside of love! You have such an intrinsic need to be whole and united with your family that—”
“That’s not true!”
“Yes, it is! Look at you! If you had this tray of stones in your workshop back home, you’d have cut half of them or more already.”
“I’ve cut over twenty rough gems since we arrived.”
“That’s a lovely start, but what do I say to Nagy when I come back with a crate of gem roughs?”
Ben’s veins flooded with rage at the mention of the Bailiff’s name. “Why do you need to say anything to him?”
“Because I’m supposed to serve the House of Lords Committee and smooth things over with the Governor here.”
“What does diplomacy have to do with gems?” Ben lost patience. The air was so fragrant from the lavish green garden just outside his window, he longed for the good old soot in London and the cold crisp mornings in Edinburgh. Too much of a good thing was still too much.
“You can’t seriously ask me that, come on!”
“I am.”
“Don’t be naive. The House of Lords keeps the permits for our trade routes open because of diplomacy. Your gems and Arnold’s pearls smooth many deals, contracts, and diplomatic relations.”
“I hate bribes.”
“Yet they work. I’m well aware that jewels are used as such, but their sheen isn’t diminished through the evil purpose of their use.”
Ben wanted to redeem his profession, for it was more than creating a currency for corruption. As Crown Jeweler, he shared the responsibility and the honor to fashion unique pieces of precious art that showed the world how much stood behind the British Empire. Bringing gems from its colonies in support of this effort seemed as natural as picking ripe peaches from an orchard. “Doesn’t a jewel sparkle more in the hands of the love of your life?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Greg growled. “Don’t you want to find out?”
“Yes, I want to find out!” Ben baulked at the turn the conversation had taken and felt close to losing his temper. “Why are you probingmelike this?”
“Because I want to know how far you’ll go, Klonimus. Do you have what it takes to accomplish our mission here, or are you just sulking with heartache and waiting for the time to pass until our return?”
“I won’t return without Izaac’s next clue, treasure, or whatever he hid here for us.” Ben took his notes from the leather folder he kept in his trunk. “I sketched it all out here. Why do you think I didn’t cut more stones? There’s a myth of an Indian deity with some leaves behind her. I counted the leaves and compared them to all the symbols I know.”
“What are you talking about?” Greg seemed surprised that Ben had been working on the treasure hunt.
“This is the image from the relief in the Dreidel of Destiny.” Ben showed Greg the sketch of the deity Durga cross-legged on a lion. A resplendent crown adorned her head. “I think the crown serves as a visual reminder of her exalted position as the protector and preserver. Her multiple arms symbolize her boundless abilities. But I wonder about this”—Ben turned the paper to face Greg—”take a close look.”
Greg eyed the paper with Ben’s sketches. “Did you break the relief up into four layers?”
“Yes, the first is a frame. Then comes the background, the lion, and—”
“What have you done?” Greg said in awe.
