Page 20 of The Slug Crystal

Luca's voice filters through my foggy consciousness, something about landing soon and—wait, did he just say he's coming with us?

"—leave the jet at Tessera and join you all," Luca is saying, his Italian accent thickening with excitement as he gestures with a half-empty glass of something amber. "It's been too long since I had a proper adventure."

I sit up straight, rubbing sleep from my eyes as Ben's hand slides from my shoulder to my lower back. The casual possessiveness of the touch isn't lost on me.

"You're coming with us?" I ask, my voice still rough with sleep. "To find Sarah? "

Luca flashes that movie-star grin of his.

"Of course! You think I would just drop you in Venice and disappear?

What kind of host would I be?" He winks at me, and I feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

"Besides, Benji has told me the whole crazy story.

A man transformed into a snail? This I must see through to the end. "

Jake sits up straighter in his seat, his shoulders squaring like he's bracing for impact. I notice the way his eyes flick between Luca and me, then to Ben's hand still resting on the small of my back. His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.

"We appreciate the ride, but we've got it handled," Jake says, his voice flat and professional. "I'm sure you have more important things to do than babysit us through Venice."

Luca's laugh is as warm as sunlight, seemingly impervious to Jake's cool reception.

"More important than helping a beautiful woman rescue her enchanted ex-boyfriend?

I think not." He moves to the seat across from me, leaning in conspiratorially.

"Besides, I have friends all over Venice.

People who know people. Finding your witch will be much easier with my help. "

Ben raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and skepticism. "Since when are you Mr. Connected in Venice? Last time we were here, you got us kicked out of three different bars in one night."

"That was five years ago!" Luca protests, mock-offended.

"I have matured. Evolved. Now I get us into the bars instead of kicked out.

" He turns to me, his gray eyes fixing on mine with an intensity that makes my stomach flip.

"Trust me, Emma. Venice is a maze of canals and secrets.

Without a guide, you could search for weeks and find nothing. "

I glance at Alex's terrarium, secured in the seat across from me.

The blue snail is pressed against the glass, antennae extended as if he's trying to follow the conversation.

I wonder if he understands what's happening, if some part of him is still human enough to comprehend that we're flying across an ocean to fix him. The thought makes my heart twist.

"How exactly would you help?" I ask Luca, trying to sound practical rather than hopeful.

He leans forward, his expression shifting from playful to serious in an instant.

"I know sone of the locals in the art and mystical communities.

Venice has always attracted people seeking.

.. alternative wisdom." He taps his fingers against his knee.

"If your Sarah has set up shop there, someone in my network will have heard of her.

Plus, I speak the language—properly, not like those tourist phrase books. "

Ben smirks. "He's not wrong. His Italian is better than his English, which isn't saying much."

Luca throws a napkin at his cousin, then continues. "I have a friend who owns a small pensione near the Rialto. He can give us rooms for a good price, and he knows everyone who matters in the old city."

I find myself nodding before I've fully thought it through. Having a native Italian speaker who knows Venice does sound helpful, especially since our entire plan consists of "arrive and somehow find Sarah."

Jake shifts in his seat, his discomfort obvious. "We don't even know how long we'll be staying," he says. "Could be a day, could be a week."

"All the more reason to have local help," Luca counters smoothly.

He turns to me again, and I'm struck by how different his confidence is from Ben's sarcastic playfulness or Jake's steady reliability.

There's something magnetic about him, something that makes me want to follow just to see where he leads.

"Besides," Luca adds with a grin, "I never pass up a chance to show off my city to beautiful visitors."

I glance between the three men, suddenly aware of the strange alchemy happening.

Jake, solid and protective, his devotion written in the tense line of his shoulders.

Ben, unpredictable and charming, his hand still warm against my back.

And now Luca, all swagger and intensity, offering connections and adventure with equal enthusiasm.

“Okay, thank you for helping us,” I say, eventually.

"It will be my pleasure. Now it is time to prepare for landing," Luca announces, slipping back into captain mode as he returns to the cockpit. He pauses at the door, looking back at me. "Welcome to Venice, Emma. The city of masks and miracles."

The plane begins its descent, the change in pressure making my ears pop. Through the window, I see a glimpse of Italy below. It’s a patchwork of green fields and red-roofed buildings that gradually gives way to the glittering blue of the Adriatic.

As he disappears, I catch Jake's eye. He looks resigned, like he's already calculated all the ways this could go wrong and is mentally preparing for each one.

"You okay with this?" I ask him quietly.

He shrugs, a gesture that manages to convey both acceptance and concern. "It's your call. He does know the city."

Ben squeezes my side gently. "Plus, he'll distract the customs officers while we smuggle Alex in," he jokes. Though there's an edge to his voice that makes me wonder if he's entirely happy about his cousin's sudden involvement.

I check on Alex again, ensuring his terrarium is secure for landing.

The snail has retreated into his shell, perhaps sensing the change in altitude.

I feel a strange kinship with him in this moment.

Both of us are being carried along by forces bigger than ourselves.

Both of us are at the mercy of whatever comes next.

The plane banks sharply, and through the window, I catch my first glimpse of Venice.

It’s a floating labyrinth of ancient buildings and twisting canals, golden in the late afternoon sun.

My heart jumps with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Somewhere in that maze is Sarah DeMarco.

Somewhere in that maze is the answer to undoing what I've done.

And now we have a new guide for our increasingly complicated journey.

Wednesday, 10:22AM. The customs hall at Venice's Airport feels like a trap designed specifically for people smuggling ex-boyfriends-turned-snails.

Harsh fluorescent lights bounce off polished floors, illuminating every nervous twitch, every suspicious glance, every too-long pause.

I clutch Alex's terrarium to my chest like it contains my actual beating heart, which isn't far from the truth.

The line snakes forward, moving with the agonizing slowness of actual snails, and with every shuffling step, my palms grow slicker against the glass.

"You look like you're about to faint," Ben murmurs, close enough that his breath tickles my ear. "Relax. It's just a snail. Not like we're smuggling cocaine."

"Right," I whisper back, "just a human being I illegally transformed with black market magic. Totally normal."

Jake stands a half-step in front of me, as if his body might somehow shield both me and Alex from scrutiny. His shoulders are tense, his hands shoved deep in his pockets—the Jake equivalent of full-blown panic.

Luca, on the other hand, looks completely at ease, casually flipping through his passport while humming something that sounds vaguely like an Italian pop song. His relaxed demeanor should be comforting, but somehow it only heightens my anxiety. Doesn't he understand what's at stake?

Three more groups pass through before us. A businesswoman with a briefcase, stamped through without a second glance. A family with tired children, delayed only long enough to check their documents. A college kid with a backpack who gets a cursory question about how long he's staying.

Then it's our turn.

The customs officer is a trim woman with steel-gray hair pulled back in a precise bun.

She beckons us forward with a crisp flick of her wrist. Her name badge reads "Maria," but her expression says "Your Worst Nightmare.

" Her uniform is pressed to military perfection, and when her eyes land on the terrarium in my arms, they narrow with immediate suspicion.

"Passports," she says, her Italian accent cutting through the word like a knife.

Jake hands his over first, then mine, then Ben's. Luca steps up with his own, offering a smile that would melt glaciers. Maria remains unmoved, her gaze returning to the terrarium with laser focus.

"What is this?" she asks, pointing at Alex with a pen that looks sharp enough to double as a weapon.

"It's... it's my pet snail," I stammer, my voice cracking on the last word. "He's completely harmless."

Maria's eyes flick from the terrarium to my face, then back again. "You bring live animals into Italy?"

"He's just a garden snail," I say, trying for casual and landing somewhere closer to manic. "For... for a science project. I'm studying his, um, shell patterns." The lie sounds pathetic even to my own ears.

"Documentation?" Maria asks, extending her hand.

My heart slams against my ribs. Documentation? For a snail? Is that a thing? My mind races through all the things I didn't Google before impulsively flying to Italy with a terrarium in hand. Why didn’t we just shove him into a backpack? Because Jake has morals and told me it would be wrong.

"I didn't know I needed any," I admit, my voice small.