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Wasting no time, Eva dug the stone out of the woodwork with the flat of a knife and placed it into a hidden fold in her skirts.
"Should we not throw it overboard to stop them tracking us?" I asked.
"No. The Ottomans would see and question us. Besides, we should not dispose of anything so potent too quickly. It has uses which we may lament to lose later on."
"Such as...?"
"I can't say as yet. But at this point it's wise to keep many avenues open."
I gave up questioning her. When Eva was in one of her obscure moods there was no point in pushing her for more. Like a Sphynx, she would return only riddles.
This is just one of the many junctures that I reflect on now, asking myself: what could I have changed? If I had taken the lodestone in secret and flushed it down the head as my nervous brain urged me to do, would Eva still have acted as she did? The smallest things seem bound up in the largest consequences, when one thinks on them after the fact. As I all too often do.
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