by Mary Hoffman
‘And ye saye he killed his owne betrothed?’
‘I know that’s not what he meant to do but you can’t deny that Silvia is alive and someone died in the Glass Room. His Giuliana disappeared on the same day and Silvia told us she had used a double that day.’
‘So do ye thinke he has reformed, like yonge Guy the assassin?’
‘No, I don’t think Enrico is anything like Guido Parola,’ said Luciano. ‘But he now wants to help us and though I can’t see him as a friend of the Stravaganti, he might be useful in giving us information about the di Chimici. He’s already told us that the one we saw in Padavia yesterday was Filippo of Bellona.’
‘Whatte is Philip of Bellona doing so farre from home?’ asked Dethridge.
‘I don’t know,’ said Luciano. A vague feeling of unease surrounded that idea but he didn’t examine it. He was still worrying about Matt.
*
Ever since the day Arianna had gone out early with Mariotto and the cats, she had been bringing her maid Barbara down to the stables to spend time with them. The poor girl was terribly afraid of any animal larger than a lapdog. She cringed when the cats came over to Arianna, sniffing her fingers and looking for treats. Arianna made the maid give them the fragments of meat she had brought for them.
Barbara would stand trembling, letting them lick her hands. But after a few days, when she saw that they were nicely behaved and would not bite her, she relaxed enough to stroke their heads, as Arianna encouraged her.
‘There!’ she said, pleased. ‘Now you will not be so scared of them when you are pretending to be me and it will help convince people that you are indeed the Duchessa of Bellezza.’
Mariotto sat in the corner of the stable, deeply disapproving. He barely understood what he overheard – how could the maid be the Duchessa? – but he knew it wasn’t right to feed the cats without making them run. Florio was already putting on weight, he was sure.
Then one day, the Duchessa brought not only the maid, but the Regent, Rodolfo, and his wife. And there was a footman as well; suddenly the entire stables seemed full of finely-dressed people. Mariotto slipped out and watched through a knot-hole in the wall.
The maid stepped forward and put a hand out to the cats, who came easily to her and took the morsels she had brought for them.
‘Very nice,’ said the Regent’s wife, moving over to stroke the cats herself. They responded to her confident touch and raised their whiskery muzzles to her face. ‘You are almost as at ease with them as is the Duchessa. It will not give you away this time.’
‘What do you mean, in hospital?’ said Matt, suddenly horrified. ‘What’s wrong with him?’
Chay shrugged. ‘Not sure.’
‘And how do you know, anyway?’
‘Ayesha phoned me.’
‘Why would she do that?’ said Matt.
‘Well,’ said Chay. ‘She sort of wondered if you’d done anything to him. I told her not to be stupid.’
‘She wasn’t,’ said Matt. ‘I did sort of do something.’
‘But you said you didn’t touch him!’
‘I didn’t,’ said Matt. ‘But I did look at him.’
Chay laughed. ‘Looked at him. What would that have done.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Matt. ‘I don’t know what happened but I tried to hurt him. Have you heard of the evil eye? Oh, never mind. We’d better go to the hospital and see what we can find out.’
The Admissions Officer at Barts was a bit guarded about giving them any information. ‘Family only,’ she said.
‘Can’t you even tell us what ward he’s in?’ asked Chay.
‘Intensive Care,’ she said after hesitating. ‘No visitors – only family.’
But she still wouldn’t tell them what was wrong with him. The two boys left her office none the wiser.
‘We could go up to Intensive Care,’ suggested Chay. ‘Maybe someone up there will tell us something?’
They took the lift in silence. Chay was seriously worried about Matt wittering on about the evil eye. And Matt was in a state of icy panic. He had wanted to hurt Jago, had hated him enough to wish the worst possible things on him. But even while he’d tried what Constantin called the ‘Jettatura’, he hadn’t really believed that anything too serious would happen. ‘You either have the power or you don’t,’ the Professor had said. And Matt hadn’t known if he had the power. Now it seemed that he did.
The last thing he expected was to see Ayesha coming out of the Intensive Care Unit with Jago’s parents. It gave him a horrible jolt to his stomach. Seeing her with them, as if she were a member of their family, just as she had so often been to places with Jan and Andy, brought home to Matt again what he had lost. And then he wondered for the first time what had happened to Jago’s girlfriend Lucy.
Ayesha whispered something to Mr and Mrs Jones and they went into the lift, leaving her to talk to Matt and Chay. They looked drawn and exhausted.
Suddenly an image flashed into Matt’s brain. This was where Luciano had died. He knew what had happened to him. And it was nothing like what had happened to Jago, but what Matt was seeing was a figure lying on a hospital bed hooked up to tubes and a mother and father agreeing to turn off the machines that were breathing for him.
He must have looked as ghastly as he felt, because Ayesha didn’t yell at him. She took one look at his white face and marched them both off to the cafeteria.
‘What happened?’ she asked, when they were all sitting down with a murky cup of hospital coffee. She reached over and spooned two sugars into Matt’s, even though she knew he didn’t take it.
‘That’s really what we want to know,’ said Chay. ‘What’s wrong with Jago?’
‘They don’t know,’ said Ayesha wearily. ‘At first his parents thought it was a sudden dose of flu. He’s got a high temperature and he keeps shivering and then saying he’s too hot.’
‘Can’t they give him something?’ asked Chay.
‘They are,’ said Ayesha. ‘But it’s not working. They thought it might be meningitis and they’ve put him on strong antibiotics but he’s still delirious. But before he went into the ICU, he mentioned your name, Matt.’
‘What exactly did he say?’ asked Matt.
‘He said, “your ex is a nutter”,’ said Ayesha brutally. ‘And I want to know what he meant.’
Enrico did not stay sweet-smelling for long but his wash and brush-up and his new clothes, not to mention a good square meal, had made a new man of him. And the Bellezzan had slipped him some silver too. The spy’s lodgings on the far side of the swamp didn’t cost much, so that he had enough money to keep himself in food for a few days and he was determined to earn more.
He had set himself to tailing Filippo of Bellona and now knew where he lived. Indeed the young di Chimici was now being followed from his home near the cathedral to the university building. Enrico watched while he went into the university offices and later came out with what looked like a list of some kind.
Enrico edged a little nearer and overheard Filippo asking for directions to a Rhetoric lecture by Professor Constantin; that made him prick up his ears. He knew that Luciano studied with that professor. There was no way that even a clean version of Enrico would be allowed into a university lecture room but he hung around outside chewing his nails until the students came out.
As he ducked behind a column in the courtyard, he saw that Filippo was deep in conversation with the young Bellezzan. He might have been worried if he could have heard their conversation.
‘Do I have the honour of addressing the Cavaliere Crinamorte?’ Filippo had asked Luciano, as soon as Constantin’s lecture was over. Luciano had recognised the di Chimici as soon as he entered the lecture hall and was intrigued that he had sought him out.
‘At your service,’ he said, making a formal bow.
Filippo bowed too, while Enrico watched this exchange of courtesies from behind his pillar.
‘May I introduce myself? I am Filippo di Chimici, son of Princ
e Jacopo of Bellona. I come from Giglia where I have been staying with my sister Francesca and her husband Gaetano.’
At the mention of Gaetano, Luciano’s suspicions were allayed. There had been a time when he and Duke Niccolò’s third son seemed to be rivals for Arianna, but now that Gaetano was married to Francesca and Luciano engaged to marry Arianna, he felt nothing but affection for him.
‘How are they,’ he said cordially. ‘I am very pleased to have recent news of them. I’m sure you understand that I can’t visit them at present.’
‘They are very well,’ said Filippo. ‘And Gaetano sends you his warmest good wishes,’ he improvised. ‘He says you became good friends in Remora.’
‘We did,’ said Luciano, pleased that Filippo wasn’t taking up his allusion to the old Grand Duke’s death. Perhaps this was another di Chimici he could be friends with? He certainly didn’t look like Gaetano; Filippo was cast more in the mould of the older princes of the family’s senior branch, tall and handsome, with finely-moulded features. Not like Gaetano, who could be thought ugly by those who didn’t know him.
On impulse Luciano invited him to dine but Filippo was insistent that the Bellezzan should be his guest.
Enrico watched the two young men leave the courtyard and slouched after them. All his instincts told him this was wrong.
Matt had thought that Ayesha was concerned about him but now he realised that she was in a cold fury. He had no idea what to say to her. It was one thing to admit what he’d done to Chay, who had no idea what he was talking about, but he had no intention of trying to describe the Jettatura to his girlfriend – his ex-girlfriend, as he must learn to think of her.
So he said nothing and stirred his coffee so hard it looked as if he might break the cup, while Chay babbled on.
‘He didn’t touch him, Yesh. I already asked him. He went round to see him but he didn’t lay a finger on him.’
‘And why did you go to his house, Matt?’ said Ayesha intently.
‘Even if he had hit him,’ Chay was carrying on. ‘It couldn’t have given him meningitis, or whatever it is.’
‘They don’t think it’s meningitis any more,’ she said wearily, dropping her gaze from Matt’s face at last. ‘They’re doing tests for tropical diseases now.’
‘There you are then!’ said Chay triumphantly. ‘Matt couldn’t have given him one of those, could he?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Ayesha quietly. ‘I don’t know what Matt is capable of any more. He has been acting weirdly for days. Ever since his birthday.’
Matt still hadn’t said anything.
‘Maybe his new friends could tell me something,’ said Ayesha. ‘Anything that will help Jago.’
And she got up and left them.
William Dethridge was surprised by a knock on the door of the study in Silvia’s old house. It was where Luciano wrote his essays and he felt most at home in its book-lined comfort.
‘There’s a man to see you, Dottore,’ said Alfredo. ‘One of the Zinti.’
‘Showe him in,’ said Dethridge. ‘Yt semes we are notte to be joined by yonge Lucian for suppire. Maybe the Manoush wille sup with us in his stede.’
Ludo came in and bowed. He had been told by Aurelio that Luciano’s foster-father was a very learned and distinguished man.
‘Wel y-come, yonge manne,’ said Dethridge, raising him up and clasping his hand.
‘Greetings,’ said Ludo. ‘I am Ludovico Vivoide, known as Ludo. I think you have met my cousins Aurelio and Raffaella?’
‘Aye, ladde, I ken them,’ said Dethridge. ‘And am ryghte gladde to mete anothire of their kin.’
‘Is the Cavaliere at home?’ asked Ludo.
‘I have notte seene him since he lefte for his classe this aftire noone,’ said Dethridge. ‘Bot he is yonge. He moste notte fele thatte he needes to spend every even with an olde manne lyke me.’
Ludo frowned. ‘Of course. But how would you know if he were in any danger?’
Dethridge looked up, worried.
‘Nay, I wolde notte knowe. Bot I colde cast the stones,’ he said at last. Looking at Ludo, he spread a black velvet cloth on the table and took a bag of polished glass stones from his pocket. On closer inspection it could be seen that each glass stone held a silver symbol of some kind inside it, but unlike Rodolfo’s set, these were made of green rather than purple glass.
‘See,’ said Dethridge. ‘I knowe notte yf ye use this method of descrying the future amonge your folke bot I always try yt whenne I am in doubte.’
‘I have heard of this,’ said Ludo, ‘but among the Manoush we use cornstalks and see what pattern they fall into. Or the cards.’
They looked at the glass stones together.
The first contained a silver skull, the next a dagger. Then there was a crown, two fishes, a cat, a mask and a single eye.
‘This reading likes me notte,’ said Dethridge, now worried. ‘I wille see what the cardes saye.’
He swept the stones back into his bag and took out a pack of Corteo cards.
Ludo settled down to watch, his chin in his hand.
Chapter 13
Tipping the Scales
Georgia couldn’t have been more surprised to see Ayesha on her doorstep. The younger girl was looking haunted and anxious, her beauty masked by dark bruises under her eyes and her unwashed hair scraped back into a ponytail.
‘Hi,’ said Georgia. ‘Come in. Are you OK?’
Ayesha stepped indoors as if sleepwalking. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘I’ve come to ask for your help.’
Georgia’s mother and stepfather were both at work and Georgia had the house to herself. She took Ayesha into the kitchen and made her some tea. She had no doubt that the coming conversation was going to be difficult.
‘What do you think I can do to help you?’ she asked. ‘What is it that’s wrong anyway?’
‘Do you know that Matt and I have broken up?’ asked Ayesha.
Georgia felt a surge of relief. Perhaps this girl had simply come to her for some relationship advice. Though even that thought made Georgia smile; she was hardly qualified to be an agony aunt.
‘No, I didn’t know,’ she said. ‘I haven’t seen Matt since Sunday. Sorry to hear it.’
‘That’s part of the problem,’ said Ayesha. ‘You saw him at the weekend and I didn’t. He seems to spend more time with you and Nick than with me. And I was supposed to be his girlfriend.’
‘Is that why you broke up?’ asked Georgia, remembering a time when Alice had been jealous of her relationship with Sky, not knowing that they were both Stravaganti.
‘That’s part of it,’ said Ayesha. ‘And at first it wasn’t exactly a break-up. I said we needed a cooling-off period. But it’s much worse now. You know Jago?’
Of course Georgia did. Everyone in her year knew the star English student, and she and Alice were both a bit annoyed by all the attention he got. And she knew that he and Ayesha had once been an item. She realised that this was about more than a break-up.
‘What about him?’ she asked.
‘He’s in hospital,’ said Ayesha. ‘In Intensive Care. Matt got it into his head that I was, well, getting back together with Jago and he went round to see him.’
Georgia had a vision of an angry Matt looming over the slender Jago. She winced.
‘No, not like that,’ said Ayesha. ‘At least, he swears he didn’t hit him. But I think he did something worse.’
She hesitated. Now that she was here, she didn’t know how she was going to ask what she needed to know.
‘He’s been acting strangely ever since his birthday,’ she said eventually. ‘About the same time that he got friendly with you and the others.’
‘In what way strangely?’ asked Georgia, dreading what was coming.
‘Look,’ said Ayesha. ‘Is he – are you – involved in some sort of cult?’
Is that what the Stravaganti are, thought Georgia. It was certainly how they might seem to an outsider – a secret brotherhood wit
h more than human abilities. But Ayesha hadn’t waited for an answer.
‘I mean, it’s your own business, of course,’ she rushed on. ‘But if Matt’s put some sort of, well, spell on Jago, I need to know. The doctors can’t cure him if they don’t know what’s wrong.’ She dropped her head in her hands. ‘I can’t believe I’m even saying these things. But everyone’s at their wits’ end. And I’m scared that Jago is going to die.’
Now that she had said it, Ayesha started to cry. Georgia felt terrible. She grabbed a box of tissues from the counter then picked up the phone and dialled Nick’s number.
‘Is that a normal pattern?’ Ludo asked Dethridge when he had finished laying out the thirteen Corteo cards.
Dethridge shook his head.
‘There is notte sich a thynge with the arraye of cardes,’ he said. ‘Yt is different every tyme. Bot yt is an interestynge one.’
They leaned over the cards together. Starting at the middle left of the circle was the Book, one of the Major Arcana. The cards had been laid out face up and counter-sunwise, as was the traditional method. Next to the Book was a number card, the Ten of Salamanders, and then the Prince of Fishes. In the bottom position at the base of the circle was the card with the Moving Stars.
Both men studied the pattern intently.
‘Do you take more notice of the Arcana?’ asked Ludo, looking at the Scales, the Magician, the Lovers, Moon and Death, which were also part of the reading.
‘Al wayes whenne the centre one is one of the Great Cardes, we think yt signifyeth some import,’ said Dethridge, pointing to the Scales, which was the last card looking up at them from the centre of the array. ‘And the thirteenth carde colours the humoure of the reading, as ye knowe.’
‘So what do you think that means?’ asked Ludo.
‘Atte this tyme and in this place,’ said Dethridge, ‘I think it meaneth the law and justice.’
‘The new laws?’ said Ludo. ‘Is that why Death is there opposite the Book?’
‘I hope notte in the waye ye meane,’ said Dethridge. ‘He is a skeletone so mayhap is connected with the anatomistes here, rathire thanne the dethe penaltie.’