City of Secrets

by Mary Hoffman

  Matt knew that Jan wouldn’t come and knock on his door, not with Ayesha there. But he agreed; he was anxious to get this over with.

  The two of them withdrew to Luciano’s bedroom. The Bellezzan took a fine silver chain from out of a wooden box and pulled it over his head. Matt saw that he held a token of some sort, something like a frozen flower. They sat side by side on Luciano’s lavishly draped bed.

  ‘Tell me about your house,’ said Luciano. ‘If you tell me where it is and what your room looks like, I should end up there with you – if we’re lucky.’

  ‘Well it’s not like this,’ said Matt, looking round at his surroundings.

  ‘I didn’t always live like this,’ said Luciano seriously. ‘I was just another Barnsbury Comp kid like you.’

  Matt was telling him random things about his house, when someone knocked softly on the door. It was Arianna. Her skirts swished as she came in, holding a candlestick, and she sat down on the other side of Luciano.

  ‘You need to lie down,’ she said. ‘Both of you. I’ll watch over you.’

  Matt felt guilty for taking Luciano away from her; they had told him about how rare her secret visits were. But it was nice to think she would be there, even if she couldn’t really protect them.

  She moved to an armchair beside the bed, setting her candle down on a low chest. The two boys stretched out under the sumptuous bedcovers. Matt immediately felt tiredness take over his body and shut his mind down. Luciano took longer, unwilling to close his eyes to the sight of Arianna sitting by his bed, wrapped in a soft red woollen shawl.

  Georgia had been edgy ever since Ayesha’s visit. It had been hard to concentrate on school work this term knowing that a new person was visiting Talia. And now something Matt had picked up on his stravagations was leaking into this world. Ever since the spring, she and Nick had been able to put their past behind them. For days at a time they could forget that Nick had been born in another world over four hundred years ago.

  What she wanted now was to plan for the future. It was going to be hard enough going away to university and leaving Nick at school for two more years. She didn’t know if their relationship would survive the separation. That was hard enough for ordinary couples who didn’t go to the same place, let alone ones with such a big age gap. Though people were much more understanding when it was the boy who was older.

  What would help them get through, Georgia was certain, was their shared past. She had enabled the old Falco to become Nicholas, to mend his body and find a new family. She had seen him pretend to drink poison in Remora, had watched while he flew the winged horse at the Stellata and seen his di Chimici father die in his arms.

  For his part, he knew all about how her stepbrother had bullied her and how she had been hopelessly in love with Luciano, who was devoted to Arianna. She had chosen Nicholas over Luciano, the ordinary everyday world over Talia and didn’t want to have to think about her choices ever again. She remembered how restless Nick had been when Sky was visiting his home city of Giglia and how he had begun to regret his decision to translate permanently away from his old life.

  Georgia dreaded that all this new activity in Talia would set Nick off again. All that stuff about the evil eye had definitely meant something to him. Georgia felt sorry for Ayesha too; she couldn’t believe what she was being told. Like Alice and Sky, Georgia thought. Alice never mentioned Talia and stravagation; it was as if she was trying to forget it had ever happened. And Sky played along with it.

  But even Sky had been intrigued by having a new Stravagante in the school. It was coming back to all of them. Georgia had even caught herself wondering if Merla the flying horse could take her from Remora to Padavia and back in a day. It would be lovely to see Cesare again. She had trained herself not to think that about Luciano.

  In the end, she just couldn’t wait to hear what had happened in Talia. She dragged on a jacket and set off for Matt’s house. On the way, after some thought, she rang Nick’s mobile.

  *

  There must have been some small difference in Matt’s breathing or something because as soon as he found himself back in his own bed, Ayesha opened her eyes. There was a tiny moment when she smiled at him automatically and it was like any other morning waking up next to her. Then realisation returned and she sat up abruptly.

  ‘Well?’ she asked. ‘Have you got the cure?’

  Matt nodded. He was still holding the leather spell-book but now he knew what the ‘remedium contra fascinum’ was. He wasn’t looking forward to applying it though.

  ‘It’s in here,’ he said.

  Ayesha looked doubtful. He had been holding that same book the night before.

  ‘It’s OK,’ said Matt. ‘I know what I have to do.’

  ‘If you say so,’ said Ayesha uncertainly. Then she seemed to make up her mind to trust him. She shook her head as if scattering all doubt from her mind. ‘Can I use your shower?’ she asked briskly. ‘I feel really skanky.’

  Matt gave her a towel from the airing cupboard. The house was strangely silent. Andy would still be in bed but Jan and Harry must be out somewhere. Matt waited anxiously in his room; would Luciano turn up there or at his own old home, which was the other possibility?

  Ayesha’s little scream told Matt that he had dozed off. She had come back from the bathroom fully dressed with her long black hair all wet about her shoulders, expecting to find just him, and there was an older boy sitting on the chair by the desk. Luciano was wearing a plain white shirt and black trousers but he couldn’t fake a pair of trainers and his buckled shoes looked outlandish.

  ‘Who are you?’ Ayesha was demanding. ‘Matt, who’s this?’

  ‘I’m Luciano,’ said the boy simply, his voice a bit husky as if he hadn’t used it much lately. He looked round the room with interest. ‘You described it well, Matt. I feel as if I recognise it.’

  ‘This is seriously weird,’ said Ayesha, sitting down on the edge of the bed. ‘You’re from that other place, aren’t you?’

  ‘I am now,’ said Luciano. ‘But I used to be like you.’

  The doorbell rang. Matt didn’t want to leave them alone together but there was an iron rule in their house that Andy Wood’s morning sleep was not to be disturbed. He went down and found Georgia and Nick on his doorstep.

  ‘Checking up on me?’ he said ruefully.

  ‘Just couldn’t keep away,’ said Nick. ‘Did it go OK?’

  ‘Have you got the counter-spell?’ asked Georgia.

  By then they were outside Matt’s bedroom.

  ‘Better than that,’ said Matt. ‘I brought reinforcements.’

  ‘Luciano!’ said Georgia. In an instant she had flung her arms around him. Nick piled in after her and the three hugged one another.

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ said Nick. But Matt noticed that he glanced towards Georgia the way he hadn’t when Cesare was under discussion.

  ‘So, he’s legit,’ said Ayesha, who was brushing her hair to calm herself.

  ‘More than that,’ said Georgia, feeling annoyed at Ayesha’s coolness. The girl had no idea what Luciano had been through in either world. And even if Georgia loved Nick best now, Luciano would always be a hero to her.

  ‘Can’t you lend him some clothes, Matt?’ said Ayesha. ‘If he comes to the hospital looking like that, everyone will be suspicious.’

  ‘We’ve been through this already in Talia,’ said Luciano. ‘We’re different sizes. Even Nick’s taller than me now!’

  ‘Are you coming to the hospital?’ asked Georgia. She felt a surge of hope; Luciano was here and everything was going to be all right.

  ‘Matt’s got the counter-spell,’ said Luciano. ‘But he needs help. The more the merrier.’ He looked round at all of them.

  ‘Let’s have breakfast first,’ said Matt. He was suddenly starving.

  Filippo di Chimici had brought several servants with him to Padavia and Enrico had soon chummed up with one particularly friendly footman. They had found a shared interest in
horses and Strega, and Giuseppe was perfectly willing to talk about his master over a few glasses of their favourite drink.

  ‘Staying with Prince Gaetano his brother-in-law in Giglia, wasn’t he?’ said Enrico.

  ‘For all the time he was there,’ said Giuseppe.

  ‘Not there long then?’

  ‘Couple of nights,’ said Giuseppe. ‘He spent more time at the Nucci palace.’

  ‘Oh, with his cousin?’

  ‘The Grand Duke,’ said Giuseppe. ‘He was the one who sent for him.’

  ‘Sent for him?’

  ‘I delivered the letter, didn’t I?’ said Giuseppe. ‘Family crest and brought by a servant in the Grand Duke’s livery. Next thing we knew we were all packing up and heading for Giglia. But we were hardly unpacked in the Palazzo di Chimici before we set off here again.’

  ‘Interesting,’ said Enrico. ‘Another drink?’

  He was using up Luciano’s silver fast but it would be worth it.

  Five hungry teenagers were filling the kitchen when Andy Wood came down to breakfast: Matt, Ayesha (‘so they’re back on again’) and three that Andy didn’t know – two strikingly handsome youths with black curls (one of whom was rather strangely dressed) and a girl with tiger-striped hair. They all jumped guiltily when he came in.

  ‘Don’t mind me,’ he said. ‘Just let me at the coffee.’

  Matt introduced Georgia and Nick but the other young man seemed to have gone. Ayesha made his coffee for him. Andy noted that they had left him some bacon and tomato and set to with the frying pan. He wondered if he had hallucinated the second black-haired boy.

  But Matt was acting very strangely, taking an unopened bottle of olive oil from the cupboard and a carton of sea salt and a shallow mixing-bowl.

  ‘What is this?’ asked Andy. ‘Are you and Yesh setting up a cookery school?’

  Matt was saved from answering by the return of Jan and Harry. But he was disconcerted to see that they were accompanied by his great-aunt Eva. He had completely forgotten she was coming to stay for a few days and knew it would make it difficult to get away.

  The kitchen was ridiculously full now. Georgia was asking if she could wash up the breakfast things, and Jan, a bit disconcerted by the impromptu morning party, was politely saying she needn’t worry and everything could go in the dishwasher.

  Matt allowed himself to be embraced by Eva and then said, ‘Sorry, but I promised we’d go to the hospital to see Jago.’

  ‘That’s good of you,’ said Jan. ‘I’m sure Celia would appreciate a break. And I can’t go myself. But I doubt they’ll let all of you in. Are you two close friends of Jago?’ she asked Georgia and Nick.

  ‘No,’ said Nick. ‘Georgia and I won’t go in. We’ll just wait outside.’

  Both the Wood parents were relieved when Matt and his friends left and they were back down to a manageable four. But they didn’t see the young people being joined by the second black-haired boy in the front garden and Andy had already forgotten he had ever been there.

  ‘That was a close thing,’ said Matt to Luciano, giving him a slice of toast. ‘My mum would have recognised you.’

  ‘I recognised her,’ said Luciano. ‘She used to teach me English.’ His expression was unreadable. ‘We’d better get along to the hospital.’

  He attracted some odd glances on the bus but people soon looked away.

  ‘It’s like Star Wars,’ whispered Ayesha. ‘It’s as if he had some sort of Jedi powers.’

  ‘Well, I hope the Force is with us this morning,’ said Luciano.

  Ayesha was embarrassed; she hadn’t meant him to hear.

  ‘How is this going to work?’ asked Nick. ‘I mean, Matt knows the spell and he’s got his ingredients but I don’t see them just letting even him and Ayesha walk into ICU and start messing around with salad dressing or whatever it is.’

  ‘I think that’s where I come in,’ said Luciano. ‘We’ll have to play it by ear but I think it will be up to me to create a diversion.’

  *

  Staff Nurse Stella Watkins had worked on ICU a long time but the case of Jago Jones was not like any she had seen before. He wasn’t any worse but he wasn’t getting any better either. She was always worried about unexplained illness on the ward. There had been talk of tropical disease but so far no doctor had recommended an isolation cubicle. Yet Staff Nurse Watkins couldn’t help visualising some unknown sickness infecting the unit and endangering all her other patients.

  It distressed her to see Jago’s mother in such a state of despair too. Stella Watkins had seen many grieving parents over her years in ICU – that Mrs Mulholland was one she remembered well – but there had been some ecstatically happy and relieved ones too. She prayed that Jago’s mother would be one of these.

  But there was no sign of it yet. Nurse Watkins bustled round Jago’s bed, taking his temperature, pulse and blood pressure. ‘No change,’ she mouthed at Mrs Mulholland, who was a bit more awake than Mrs Jones. Then, softly, ‘Isn’t it about time his mum got off home and let someone else sit with him for a while?’

  And then the Asian girl came in. She was stunningly good-looking and Nurse Watkins had seen her before; she thought she was probably young Jago’s girl. She was just what was needed at the moment, anyway: a fresh young person, looking well-rested and positive. She could sit with Jago or at least keep Mrs Jones company if she refused to leave.

  ‘There now, Mrs Mulholland,’ she said brightly. ‘You take a break and let the young one take over.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Vicky. She was deathly tired and very stiff from dozing all night in a hospital chair. ‘I will pop home for a bit if that’s all right, Celia?’

  Celia Jones nodded, still groggy from her own uncomfortable night.

  ‘You go, Vicky. I’ll be all right. Ayesha will sit with me.’

  Ayesha was wondering how on earth to get Jago’s mother to leave so that she could let Matt in to do what he had to, when she heard a scream from the hall.

  ‘That’s Vicky,’ said Celia and both she and Nurse Watkins left Jago’s cubicle.

  Ayesha ran into the corridor and, deliberately ignoring what was happening at the other end, dragged Matt into the cubicle.

  ‘Quick,’ she said. ‘We probably don’t have much time. I don’t know how long your Luciano can distract them.’

  Matt rummaged in his plastic bag. Now that it had come to it, he felt foolish balancing the mixing bowl on Jago’s forehead; it didn’t help that Ayesha was looking sceptical. He poured some water into the bowl from the carafe on Jago’s bedside table then added a little olive oil from the bottle.

  Outside there was still some commotion going on.

  ‘What now?’ asked Ayesha. ‘Don’t you have to chant or something?’

  ‘Now we wait,’ said Matt. ‘It shouldn’t take more than a few moments.’

  And it didn’t. Forming in the water was the unmistakable greeny-yellow outline of an open eye.

  ‘Like Big Brother,’ said Ayesha, fascinated.

  ‘More like Sauron in Mordor,’ said Matt, excited in spite of the danger. ‘It’s the evil eye, all right.’

  He struggled with the canister of salt, trying to get it to the setting where only a sprinkling would come out, then cast it at the oily ‘eye’. Immediately the pattern on the surface broke up.

  ‘Is that it?’ said Ayesha, in an agony of anticipation. ‘We’ve got to get rid of this stuff. Mrs Jones and the nurse will be back any minute.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Matt.

  There was a change in Jago’s shallow breathing. He started to move his head.

  ‘Quick – take it off!’ said Ayesha, rushing to catch the bowl before it spilled water, oil and salt all over the bed.

  Jago’s eyes opened. ‘Ayesha?’ he said croakily. Then he saw Matt and suddenly looked scared.

  They just had time to push the bowl and carrier bag under the bed before Nurse Watkins came in.

  ‘Who’s this?’ she asked sharply then, sniffin
g, ‘What’s that funny smell?’

  ‘Oh nurse,’ said Ayesha. ‘Jago’s just woken up. Isn’t it wonderful?’

  Staff Nurse Watkins was as white as her own plastic apron. What she had seen in the corridor was something her mind could not encompass. So she dealt with something she could understand and bleeped the duty doctor.

  ‘Go and tell his mother. You, young man,’ she said to Matt. ‘You shouldn’t be here anyway. Go and tell Mrs Jones that her son is awake.’

  Matt walked out in the corridor feeling ridiculously happy. He had probably lost Ayesha but Jago wasn’t going to die. He felt as he had when Constantin had placed his hand on his head and taken away the guilt.

  Outside he found Luciano and Celia Jones and a woman he knew to be Mrs Mulholland. All at once, he understood what had happened. It was Vicky Mulholland that looked on the verge of fainting and Jago’s mother who was comforting her. Luciano was stroking the hair of the woman Matt now realised was his mother.

  ‘Look after her,’ he told Matt and disappeared into Jago’s cubicle.

  Nurse Watkins scarcely registered that Luciano had come into the cubicle before he had taken her hand, looked into her eyes and murmured something under his breath.

  ‘I . . . I must go and find the doctor,’ said Nurse Watkins, brushing a hand across her forehead, and left Luciano and Ayesha alone with Jago. The sick boy looked terrified at the sight of Luciano; he was a year older than Ayesha and he knew what he was seeing. He remembered Lucien Mulholland. But Luciano put his hand on Jago’s brow and said more words to him and the boy relaxed.

  ‘Now we must take Matt’s stuff and leave quickly,’ warned Luciano.

  Ayesha grabbed the bowl. ‘I’ll tip this away in the visitor’s loo,’ she said practically.

  Luciano pulled the bag out from under the bed and they both went out into the corridor. Ayesha sped off in the other direction while Luciano went to Jago’s mother.

  ‘Mrs Jones,’ he said, ‘your son is well again,’ and he passed his hand in front of her eyes.

  Celia Jones hurried into the cubicle without a second look at her friend. That left Matt and Luciano with Vicky and they were soon joined by Ayesha with the empty bowl.