CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The horse and cart jostled Oliver back and forth, lulling him into a sense of sleepiness. But unlike his friends—who were all snoring with their heads on one another’s shoulders—Oliver could not sleep. His veins were crackling with energy. He wondered if that was something to do with his newly acquired celestial powers, or if it was adrenaline from feeling like he was getting closer to finding the next piece of the puzzle. Whatever it was, Oliver did not sleep.
He spent the whole journey to Florence—which was several hours long—gazing out the window at the rolling Italian countryside. He couldn’t see much because of how dark it was, and it became quickly evident why the apothecary had warned about the danger of traveling at night. If they were ambushed here in the pitch-
