of the task at hand, Azov said, “Vera, the album. Sveti, did you bring the seed list?”
Vera gave the album to Sveti, watching her reaction carefully, as if something in her expression might tell her the meaning of the Enochian symbols etched onto the page.
“You understand it?” Vera asked.
“I do, for the most part,” Sveti said. “Written around these flower specimens are ingredients and proportions varying in number and volume.” She stopped at something Vera had missed earlier, a mostly blank page with what appeared to be a heart drawn at its center.
Intrigued, Vera asked, “What is this symbol?”
Azov took a pen from his desk and drew a similar heart on a piece of paper. “This shape was derived from the shell of the silphium seed, which was tapered at one end and cleft at the other. It eventually became known as a symbol of love, a heart, one of our most powerful modern symbols. Indeed, the heart’s association with romantic love could be said to have stemmed from the use of silphium as an aphrodisiac in ancient Cyrene.” Azov glanced at the album, as if to verify the symbol, and continued. “When I was in contact with Angela Valko, there was one plant in particular she was looking for, but she was never able to name it. I wonder if this heart symbol was the element she was trying to decipher.”
“Surely she would have known that the heart symbol’s origin lies in silphium,” Sveti said.
“Angela was a skeptic,” Azov answered. “Silphium is one of the most intriguing plants of the ancient world. Many modern botanists refuse to verify it, claiming that there is no proof that it even existed.”
“I get the feeling that you don’t agree,” Vera said.
“The plant has been extinct for over one thousand years, but you are right, Vera. I have no doubt that silphium existed. Whether it was the cure-all it was purported to be in ancient Mediterranean cultures, I cannot say. Indigestion, asthma, cancer—silphium was allegedly used to treat all of these maladies. Perhaps most important, the plant was believed to both aid in contraception and, as I mentioned, act as an aphrodisiac. It was considered so precious that it formed an important part of trading between Cyrene, now Libya, and other coastal countries, so much so that glyphs and coins were created bearing its image.”
Sveti examined the album page once more. “It is intriguing in this context, because silphium appears to be the single nonfloral ingredient in the formula, and the only one that is extinct.” She flipped through the pages of rose petals. “For example, there are over one hundred varieties of roses in the book. Clearly the formula would have required a distillation of rose oil.”
“But rose oil is so common,” Vera said. “Roses can be found everywhere.”
Azov said, “Now, yes. But after the Flood there would have been only a few seeds keeping the plant from complete extinction. Humanity has—over the millennia—cultivated and revived the rose. If we hadn’t, we would be living in a world without roses. The same can be said for all of the flowers listed in Noah’s catalog of seeds. It is through the human preference for flowers that many of these remain with us. It is a wonder that silphium, which was once so important, nearly died out.”
“Nearly?” Vera said. “I thought it was extinct?”
Azov smiled. “It is extinct,” he said. “Except for one or two remaining seeds.”
Vera stared at Azov, taking in the meaning of what he had said. If they had this plant, it would be possible to create the formula—whatever it was. “Is the silphium among your seed collection?”
“It’s here,” Azov said. He opened a tiny drawer and removed a metal box. He unfastened the catch and lifted a silk pouch. It was ominously airy, as if nothing at all were stored inside. He upended the pouch and a single seed—yellowish brown with specks of green—rolled onto the table. “There is only one left in my care,” Azov said. “The other seed was given to Dr. Raphael Valko in 1985.”
“Do you think he knew about this album, and about this formula in particular?” Sveti asked.
“It’s hard to say,” Azov muttered, as he paged through the book. “The scope of Angela’s work was no secret to him, and he certainly knew that she and I were in close contact before her death. But Raphael never mentioned her when I delivered the seed to him.”
“I fail to see what Raphael Valko has to do