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Okay, and…Its element is fire, which corresponds to the event later today, when the Bonfire of the Vanities is set to take place.

And, while the card is considered a portent of darkness, which doesn’t necessarily bring a baptistery to mind, it also holds the promise of the enlightenment that awaits on the other side.

Also, isn’t the whole point of a baptism to save one’s soul from that very brand of darkness?

And lastly, and more personally, just like the Wheel of Fortune card, the Tower is also a card of fate.

Though I’m not sure how to interpret that last part, I still make a point to tuck it away.

Once the sun is fully risen, I make my way back down the stairs, out the cathedral doors, and onto the street of a city that’s just beginning to wake. Which means if I have any hope of getting this done, I’ll need to move quickly.

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Though there are three doors through which I could enter the Baptistery of San Giovanni, I head straight for the gilded bronze eastern doors, which Michelangelo famously likened to “the Gates of Paradise.” And I’m delighted to find they’re just as stunning as they’re rumored to be.

If I ever get the chance to visit Florence in the modern day, I’ll have to view these doors in the Duomo Museum. But for now, I steal a moment to study the series of reliefs that represent the life of Saint John the Baptist, the patron saint of the city.

Once inside, I find a spectacular display of Byzantine-style mosaics spread across the dome, telling the stories of the Last Judgment, scenes from the life of Saint John the Baptist, and more. But nothing that points to the location of the Get I’m looking for, even though I’m sure I’m in the right place.

Slowly, I move through the space, poring over the clues in my head.

An upside-down hourglass that represents time running out.

A sideways crown, which I’m convinced points to the Tower, which also points to an ending of sorts.

Is it because this is considered the end of the Renaissance era?

Or is it something else—something I still can’t quite grasp?

Though the various connections to water, virgins, fish, healing, and spirituality have also landed me here, I can’t forget the painting that started it all—theSalvator Mundi.

Leonardo da Vinci pointed the way, and…

I stop in my tracks, silently repeating that phrase in my head.

Leonardo pointed the way, and…

Leonardo pointed.

My mind reels back to my conversation with Mason about all the ways those crossed fingers could be interpreted and how so many of Leonardo’s works portray active hands.

A rush of chills races over my skin, a sure sign that I’m onto something—but as to what that might be, I’m not entirely sure.

Okay, okay, just think, put the pieces together…

Jesus’s fingers were depicted in theSalvator Mundias both raised and crossed, and…

And what?

Outside, it’s getting lighter. It won’t be long before someone comes in and finds me. And I’m not sure what would be worse—to be caught by one of Savonarola’s followers or by a Timekeeper. Either way, I prefer not to find out.

I blow out a frustrated breath and stare up at the dome once again. When my eyes catch on the mosaic of Saint John the Baptist, I remember the portrait Leonardo also painted of him.

Or, according to this timeline, the painting he will one day paint of him, sometime in the early sixteenth century.

Saint John the Baptist is the patron saint of Florence.

This baptistery is named after him.