“Yeah, but I’d be bored silly. I’d get myself into trouble.”

“I doubt that. Though you do seem very suited to all this. It’s rather amazing, if you think about it.”

She shrugged and continued scanning the pages. There were numerous mentions of mercury, but she had yet to find the original formula for “mercury of life” that Tenzin had recommended she look for.

“Dad, why didn’t you just memorize the damn formula with your super-duper vampire brain? I’m trying not to be judgmental here, but—”

Stephen barked out a laugh. “It wasn’t exactly a cookie recipe. There were so many steps, and I didn’t know half of what the terms were, much less how to concoct them or process them. I mean, I was an assistant professor of medieval literature, for heaven’s sake. It probably would have made more sense to a chemist or a holistic doctor, though so many of the ingredients were obscure, even a trained alchemist might have had problems.”

“But Lu’s monks seemed to understand them?”

“I spent most of my time at the monastery learning Mandarin first, then translating the book from Arabic into Mandarin so Fu-han could read it. Then, I had to explain what a lot of Geber’s codes were, and all of his journals were written in Persian.” Stephen shook his head. “I had a feeling things were becoming clearer to him, but then I was called here. I’m still sending letters back and forth to him, explaining this or that word or phrase. And he and Zhang are the Spagyric experts, not me.”

“And that’s the plant alchemy, right?”

“Yes, which is a specialty even within normal alchemy. If Geber hadn’t written his findings in his journals, I’d have had no idea what the book was or what the formula was supposed to do.”

“But Lorenzo knows?”

“He doesn’t know what the formula is, clearly, but I believe he knows what it’s supposed to do. I saw him examining the journals and smiling that creepy, satisfied grin he has.”

Beatrice shivered involuntarily when her father mentioned his name. “Did he really torture you?”

Stephen’s eyes clouded in pain. “Beatrice, I don’t want to talk to you about that. It’s not… it’s just not something…”

She shook her head and looked back to the book. “It’s okay. Never mind. I know. Gio said it was probably pretty bad.”

He paused, staring down at the table where they sat. “It’s in the past. He can’t hurt me anymore. I’m too strong now.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me.”

The corner of her mouth lifted. “You’re my dad.”

“Exactly. It’s my job to worry about you, not the other way round. You were always an old soul, even as a child.”

She snorted. “I must have been so obnoxious. Grandma always said she turned grey early because of me.”

“You were a joy. Just… headstrong.” He grinned. “And frighteningly perceptive for a cute little girl.”

Beatrice looked up at her father. She was still struck by how young he looked, frozen in time the same age he had been when she was young. “Was I?”

“What?”

“A joy? Was I? Was it worth it being a single dad when Holly left me with you? I must have been a surprise. And you couldn’t hit the clubs with your friends when you were twenty-two, could you? Not with a baby and no one to help you.”

“Oh.” Stephen shrugged. “I had Grandma and Grandpa. Who needed to go out dancing when I had toothless baby smiles at home? You made things plenty exciting.”

She thought of all the Friday nights when she was young when her father had taken her to the skating rink or the movies, instead of spending time with other adults. Though she hadn’t recognized it at the time, his whole life had revolved around her. “Thanks, Dad. For not… you know. When I met Holly a couple years ago, she said she knew I’d be better off with you. That you’d take care of me. So… thanks.”

His voice was hoarse when he finally replied. “You are completely welcome, Beatrice. Your mom is the one that missed out.”

A booming voice came from the hallway. “Agreed.”

Beatrice turned when she heard Giovanni. He walked over and sat down next to her, kissing her cheek.

“Hello, Tesoro,” he whispered in her ear. “I missed you.”

“Sorry, I got caught up here.”

“No problem at all. Let me help your father. Baojia is waiting for you in the practice room. More weapons training tonight.”

She leapt up. “Oh! He said I could try out the dao and maybe some other stuff tonight. Cool.” She was halfway out of the room before she turned back. She skipped over to Stephen and leaned down, brushing a kiss across his cool cheek. “See you later, Dad.”

“Bye, Mariposa. Have fun with the swords. Don’t stab anyone.” Stephen paused and frowned. “Well, unless you’re supposed to.”

“See? You’re still such a dad,” she said as she winked and darted out the door. She could hear the two men chuckle as she raced down the hall.

“The saber, or dao, has a different balance than the jian,” Baojia said softly as he circled her. “You must learn to carry it in a different way. Your stance will be different. Your thrusts will be different. Remember, the sword is not a weapon; it is an extension of your arm, and you must balance yourself with that in mind.”