Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 5.1: The Doge's Palace

Her advisor wasn't kidding when he told her to hurry with preparations for the unforeseen trip. Reine barely had time to say an apologetic farewell to Gabe, rush home to throw a few clothes into a travel bag, and hop back into her car to drive to the airport. Even then, she narrowly made it to the international check-in before it closed.

Iverson often travelled to far off destinations, providing private patrons and public institutions with his expertise regarding artwork; however, this was the first time he'd taken her along. On this occasion, it was to analyze a possibly unknown Old Master, and her inclusion both puzzled and excited Reine.

The overnight flight from Washington to Rome was comfortable enough because the professor managed to get them on Business class. Their short connection into Venice's Marco Polo International Airport, on the other hand, was plagued with turbulence, and Reine couldn't wait to touch solid ground again. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to enjoy the feeling for too long.

Traveling on the canals was the only way to get around the many islands making up the waterlogged city. Although Reine suggested taking the slow and steady water bus, the professor insisted on finding the fastest mode of transportation available.

Plopping his bag on the floor of a sleek motorboat, he yelled to be heard over the loud roar of the water taxi's engine. "Piazza San Marco, per favore!"

The driver leaned on the throttle and maneuvered away from the dock. The salty spray of the Venetian Lagoon dampened Reine's face before she retreated into the safety of the enclosed cabin. "We're not stopping by the hotel first?" she asked.

Following her inside, the tall, African American academic continued to shout while confirming the few details she already knew. "There's no time to lose. It's already mid-afternoon, and if we hope to make any determination as to the origins of that painting by tomorrow's auction, we must start immediately," he said.

Reine sighed, knowing he was right. As the mainland gradually disappeared outside the window, a chill ran through her. They were on familiar ground now. Just southwest of the airport was where her body had most likely washed ashore after she drowned five hundred years earlier.

It still would have been nice to at least have a refreshing shower before determining whether a piece of art was worth just thousands or perhaps millions of dollars. However, dissuading Professor Iverson was impossible. There was no use in even trying because - just like her - if he got something in his mind, he was unstoppable. Therefore, she did her best to ignore her swelling anxiety regarding the bumpy ride and instead focused on the intricate patterns of the cabin's wood interior.

The boat wound through the Grand Canal toward the old city center and Saint Mark's Square. Nearing their destination, their speed decreased while rounding the final corner of the canal before the open waters of the Adriatic Sea.

Peeking through the window, Reine caught sight of the Campanile. The watch tower's roof was adorned with a weathervane of the Archangel Gabriel, making her smile.

The driver cut the engine, and the boat hit the side of the Piazza's dock with a thud. Iverson couldn't contain his excitement, and he was practically out of the vessel before it had come to a stop. For a man in his late fifties who often used the excuse of a bad back to get out of personally returning his stacks of borrowed books to the university's library, he showed remarkable energy out in the field.

Reine was still contemplating on how best to climb up from the boat to the dock when he called back down to her. "Miss Baldwin, could you be a dear and pay the man? I'm afraid I haven't exchanged any money yet."

That's what I'm here for,  she thought while fumbling through her bag looking for the envelope of Euros she had the foresight of getting at the airport.