Page 96 - Folio Only

“'My book says it will,' he answered, pulling an old illustrated manuscript
off of his shelf, ' All eggs comprise a germ, Purkinje's vesicle, which enclosed
within a retort corresponds to the shell of pontic waters.'“

“Well, I begged him for it. He refused. I kept offering him more and more
soldi for it. I was desperate. It was either N’ariq or death. Well, Gemma, he
gave it to me. A tiny pinch of powder, red powder, the color of blood, into a cup
of wine. But...I cannot tell you more.” He turned away from her.

“Yes, you must!”

“He swore me to secrecy, Gemma. I cannot tell you what the red power
of N’ariq is made from. All I know is...it cured me.”

“It cured me! You're not ill, then?”

“This was months ago You might have noticed I was particularly hearty
and hale these last months.”

“Perhaps.”

“Surely, yes. Surely you saw I was walking more briskly, chopping wood
as though I were a young man of twenty again. Say you noticed! It was all for
you, Gemma. Tell me you saw I was healthier than I have ever been!” He was
suddenly shouting.

“Yes, Babbo, yes. Don't you remember my remarking on it several times,
how strong you looked.”

“It was the N’ariq, I tell you, from that one single dose. The spirit of the
fire was everywhere and in everything: it lay in the flint so cold in appearance,
in the metals that I felt transforming into inflammable fulminations beyond
comprehension. Oh, Gemma, such transmutation is a phenomenon that

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