Page 63 of Chasing Eternity
“And have you decided who will join me on this Trip?” I watch his face closely. Last time we met, he was debating between the equally unpleasant candidates of either Elodie or Killian, so I float another name for him to consider. “Because I’m not sure if you realize this, but I’ve Tripped with everyone here, except Braxton.”
My gaze locks on his, and though I want to remind him of the broken promise that Braxton and I would Trip to Renaissance Italy together, only for him to send Killian in his place, I refrain. We both know that, in Arthur’s view, there’s no debt to be settled with me.
Arthur, a master at the poker face, gives nothing away. Though I detect a slight edge to his voice, a hint of irritation, when he says, “As mentioned, I will inform you once I’ve made my decision.”
Knowing I’ve broached the topic as far as I can, I navigate through rows of masterpieces under Arthur’s keen surveillance. Making a beeline for Caravaggio’s depiction of David slaying Goliath, I feel his piercing gaze tracking my every step.
Though I’ve always admired Caravaggio’s work—he’s a master of chiaroscuro, the use of strong contrasts between light and dark—unlike Braxton, it’s not the kind of art I ever thought I could live with. It always seemed too heavy and brooding.
But now, as I stand beforeDavid with the Head of Goliath, I’m swept away by its power. The work is raw, dynamic, and dramatic, depicting David in the aftermath of his victory, holding Goliath’s severed head by the hair. The expert brushwork draws me in, and I feel an immediate kinship with this journey, especially the way David is portrayed in his victory.
Instead of gloating, David exhibits a sense of introspection, pondering the cost of his conquest. The face of Goliath, said to be a self-portrait of Caravaggio, hints at the toll on both the beast and the artist. If I do manage to outmaneuver Arthur, I imagine my emotions will mirror that sentiment. Such a win, while gratifying, will undoubtedly carry a tinge of bitterness.
Knowing how Arthur likes to psychoanalyze our artistic preferences, I wonder what conclusions he might be drawing as he watches me grasp the edge of the frame, ready to stake my claim. But just as I’m about to commit, another work catches my eye, and I find myself rushing toward it.
My heart skips a beat as I gaze at the scene unfolding on the canvas before me. I’ve always had an enormous fondness for this piece and the artist who painted it. I can hardly believe I didn’t think of it before, when all this time, it’s been sitting right here, mine for the taking.
Judith Slaying Holofernes, by Artemisia Gentileschi, is an absolute wonder, as is the artist herself—a young woman whose personal story is as profound as the works she created. This piece, depicting the biblical story of Judith, reflected the artist’s own personal struggles and triumph over adversity.
Standing before it, I realize it resonates with me just as much, if not more, than the Caravaggio. Born to a well-established artist, Artemisia’s early life was marked by trauma when she was raped by the painter Agostino Tassi, a colleague of her father. She chose to prosecute and go to trial, which was pretty much unheard of at the time. Despite being subjected to torture to verify her testimony, she prevailed. Tassi was convicted, and Artemisia gained respect and patronage in a male-dominated field—a rarity in her time. She even became the first woman accepted into the Accademia delle Arti del Disegno and enjoyed the patronage of the Medici family and Charles I of England, among others.
Her work, somewhat forgotten after her death, was rediscovered in the twentieth century, and she’s now celebrated as a pioneering figure in the history of women in the arts. She’s also one of my personal heroes, and, as it happens, her painting sends a powerful message to Arthur.
“Interesting choice,” Arthur says. Though I don’t turn to look, I feel his gaze burning into the back of my skull.
In this powerful painting, Judith, assisted by her maidservant, executes Holofernes. The way Judith grasps his hair, pressing down on his forehead with one hand while drawing the sword across his neck with the other, is so vivid and real, I can feel the muscles straining in her arms, feel her determination to get the job done. The maidservant holding Holofernes down only adds to the sense of violence and realness.
Like Caravaggio, Artemisia used the chiaroscuro technique, intensifying the drama and highlighting the resolve on Judith’s face, as well as the horror and desperation on Holofernes’s as he comes to terms with his fate.
It’s a painting celebrated not only for its technical skill but for its depiction of female power and resilience. Which makes it the perfect, if not only, choice I can make.
Grasping the corner of the frame, I turn to Arthur and say, “It is an interesting piece, I agree. I’ll take it.”
There’s a challenge in my eyes. But Arthur, his own gaze on lockdown, merely nods and says, “I’ll see that it’s delivered to your room.”
31
The second I leave Arthur’s office, I fire off another message to Braxton.
Me:Need to see you – sooner = better.
Heart pounding, I rush down the hall, eyes glued to the slab, waiting for his reply. But nothing comes.
Dammit. Braxton, where are you?
Frustrated, I turn back to my room, thinking I might summon an Unraveling to see if I can locate him. But then I remember something Elodie once said about Arthur’s archive—records of every change he’s made since taking control of the rock. She was surprised I hadn’t explored them, given all the time I’ve spent in the library.
Was Elodie nudging me toward the very answers I’ve been seeking all along?
Curiosity piqued, I change course and head to the library. As I step inside, I’m enveloped by its old-world charm. Polished dark wood walls and towering shelves of rare, first-edition books stretch up to the high, coffered ceiling. The faint scent of aged paper and leather fills the air, adding to the library’s timeless allure. A quick look around confirms I’m alone.
My footsteps are muffled by the thick, green carpet as I navigate to the back and push open a heavy oak door. The air inside is markedly cooler, the silence almost reverent.
Soft, golden light filters through stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across rows of towering shelves filled with neatly organized boxes and binders, labeled by project, not year.
My fingers twitch with anticipation as I approach the nearest shelf, eyes scanning for anything that might reveal what truly drives Arthur—why he’s so determined to remake the world.
With only one piece left to complete his dream, uncovering his motives has never been more urgent. Sure, I can pretend I can’t find the Star, but how long can I keep up the charade? Especially with him insisting either Elodie or Killian accompany me.