Rebel Genius

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Rebel Genius Page 5

by Michael Dante DiMartino


  “Thank you, signora.” His Genius looped into the air, then dove, splashing into the water.

  “When you’re done, come down for breakfast.” Fabiana exited, her robe gracefully cutting a curve behind her.

  Giacomo peeled off his grimy clothes and slipped into the hot water. The icy chill that had embedded in his bones over the years began to melt. With a soapy brush, he scrubbed every inch of his body, and within minutes the water became murky. Annoyed, his Genius squeaked and hopped out.

  Giacomo dried himself and tried on his new clothes. He tightened the leather ties down the front of the tunic and pulled the pants over his skinny legs. A little baggy, but they’d do the trick. He dragged a brush through his long, tangled hair and looked into a full-length mirror, hardly recognizing this unsoiled version of himself.

  * * *

  After a few wrong turns, Giacomo found his way to the dining room, where Savino, Milena, and Aaminah sat on one side of a long table, their Geniuses perched on the backs of their chairs. Baldassare sat at the head, shoveling forkfuls of noodles into his mouth.

  “Take your pick.” Baldassare gestured to the twenty empty chairs around the table.

  Giacomo sat opposite the other children, who had shed their cloaks. Milena, holding herself with elegant poise, was now clad in a green velvet dress with embroidered sleeves, the bodice laced tightly. In contrast, Aaminah slouched and appeared much more casual, wearing a loose, pale yellow shirt with a boy’s pants, opting for bare feet. Savino looked ready to do battle in a black short-sleeved leather tunic covered in metal buckles and a padded white undershirt. From loops on his belt hung his various sculpting tools, resembling an armory of tiny weapons.

  Giacomo gazed across the table piled with platters of thick noodles, roasted meats, and pastries. He stuffed a tart into his mouth. The cinnamon sparked his long-dormant sense of taste back to life. A warm, gooey melon-and-cheese filling erupted from the dough and dripped down his chin.

  Aaminah leaned over the table and whispered, “You know what’s really good? If you suck out the insides first.” She jabbed a hole in a tart and made a loud sucking noise as she drained it dry. She signaled her satisfaction with a tiny burp. Giacomo laughed, accidentally snorting cheese filling from his nose, which made Aaminah giggle.

  Milena shot them both disapproving looks and rolled her eyes. She probably thought he was disgusting, but Giacomo didn’t care, not when his mouth was full of something so sweet and delicious.

  While they ate, the sounds of stirring, pounding, and chopping spilled from the kitchen. Fabiana swept in, holding a bowl of steaming soup.

  “Thith ith amathing,” Giacomo told her, his mouth full of tart.

  “You’re so very welcome,” Fabiana said, setting the bowl on the table, then gliding away to create another masterpiece.

  Giacomo’s Genius hopped off his shoulder and sucked a noodle from his plate like it was a long, meaty worm.

  “No Geniuses on the table, please,” Baldassare said firmly.

  Giacomo glanced at the other three Geniuses, sitting obediently, and realized he had to get his Genius in line. He first tried shooing it off the table, and when that didn’t work, he picked it up and put it in his lap. But his Genius hopped right back onto the table and kept eating off his plate. Giacomo put on his most serious face and gave it a stern no while pointing his finger. His Genius blissfully ignored him and continued gobbling food.

  Savino looked to Baldassare. “What do you expect when he just got his Genius last night?”

  “I’m so sorry, Signor Barrolo. I’m still trying to figure out how to communicate with it.”

  “I’ll let it slide for now,” Baldassare said. “At least until Pietro can give you a few pointers. For the time being, please keep a close eye on your new friend here. An untamed Genius is a recipe for disaster.”

  To emphasize his point, he tossed bits of food to the other Geniuses, who snatched them out of the air with their beaks.

  Giacomo nodded. “Understood.” He felt a pit in his stomach, and it wasn’t from all the rich food. Something had been bugging him ever since the others showed up at his hideout. “There is one question maybe you could answer for me?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Baldassare said.

  “If Pietro’s Genius knew where to find mine, how come the Supreme Creator hasn’t raided your villa looking for all their Geniuses?” Giacomo gestured across the table to the others.

  Baldassare wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Nerezza’s Genius is powerful, but thankfully, it never developed the ability to sense others. In this arena, Pietro and Tito have an advantage. If not for them, I never would have found Savino, Milena, or Aaminah.”

  “How can Pietro’s Genius find another one miles away?”

  “Geniuses are mysterious creatures, as you’ve no doubt discovered,” Baldassare said. “A rare few possess the ability to sense their own kind. It’s believed they emit some kind of vibrational signal through the air, in order to communicate. Others think it has more to do with the emotional bond between artist and Genius. But no one knows for sure.”

  “Someday Aaminah’s Genius will be just as powerful,” Milena said, sounding like a proud older sister.

  “Maybe,” Aaminah said doubtfully. “Right now Luna can only sense a Genius if it’s really close by. She picked up your Genius’s trail once we went into the aqueducts.”

  So that’s how they found me. But as soon as that question had been answered, another popped into Giacomo’s head: “What happens if a member of the Council of Ten decides to stop by? You all hide in the cellar?”

  “Our Geniuses do,” Milena said. “But we get to meet whoever visits. Signor Barrolo introduces us as his adopted children.”

  “But how about you?” Baldassare said, leaning forward. “How does a boy like you end up living in the sewers beneath the city?”

  “Not a fan of orphanages.” Giacomo stuffed another tart in his mouth, not wanting to get into the details.

  A morose boy with curly black hair wearing a black tunic shuffled into the dining room, carrying a human skull. Milena fumed.

  “See?” Savino nodded at the skull. “Told you I didn’t take it.”

  Milena whistled. Her Genius took flight and extended its long neck, plucking the skull out of the boy’s hands with its beak.

  “Keep that thing away from me,” the boy complained.

  “Then don’t steal my stuff, Enzio,” Milena retorted. Gaia dropped the skull in Milena’s lap and returned to the back of Milena’s chair.

  Enzio noticed Giacomo and glared at him with eyes nearly as lifeless as the skull’s. Giacomo looked at the other kids, expecting an introduction, but they stayed silent.

  The boy walked over to Giacomo, sizing him up. “Great, another leech eating my food. And are those my old clothes?” He snatched a piece of bread off Giacomo’s plate.

  “Hey, I was about to eat that,” Giacomo said.

  “Enzio. Respect our guest,” Baldassare scolded.

  “Dad. Leave me alone.” Enzio stuffed the bread in his mouth and left.

  “That’s my boy. A true blessing from the Creator, isn’t he?” Baldassare said, with a joking smile.

  “Does he have a Genius?” Giacomo asked.

  “No,” Aaminah said. “And he hates the fact we all do.”

  Giacomo made a mental note to stay clear of Enzio.

  * * *

  Giacomo spent the rest of the day exploring the villa and the lush gardens. Then, after another unbelievable feast of mouthwatering and stomach-filling pastas and cakes, he and his yet-to-be-named Genius headed up to their room, where he sketched from memory everyone he’d met since his arrival.

  His first day in Baldassare’s villa had been one of the most exciting and exhausting of his life. After finishing a particularly gloomy portrait of Enzio, he tossed his sketchbook on the bedside table. He fell back onto the soft mattress and buried himself under a mountain of blankets.

  Although
he was safe for the moment, Giacomo felt uneasy. He didn’t deserve this. Any of it. A Genius, the never-ending piles of food, the cozy bed. Not when there were one-legged beggars on Zizzola’s streets struggling to survive. What made him so special?

  He tossed and turned, jealous of his Genius, who was nestled into the pillow next to him, sound asleep.

  Finally, he flung off the blankets and curled up on the floor next to the bed. The hard, cold stones offered a familiar comfort. Within seconds, his eyes felt heavy and his thoughts drifted off, making way for sleep.

  5

  SACRED GEOMETRY

  That night in his dreams, Giacomo was lost, walking down one of the many halls in Villa Barrolo. Every turn brought him back to the exact same place. His heart raced. Then, to his surprise and relief, his mother and father stepped out of a doorway and waved to him.

  “It’s so good to see you,” his father said in his baritone voice.

  His mother hugged him and told him how much she missed him. Giacomo burst into tears. She wiped them away and told him not to cry. “We’re here now.”

  “Has your Genius arrived?” his father asked.

  “You know about that?” Giacomo said.

  “Make sure you keep him safe,” his mother said.

  They kissed Giacomo on the head and walked back down the hall and through the doorway.

  Giacomo rushed after them. “Wait! Don’t go!”

  He bolted into the room, but they had already vanished. Suddenly, he was back at his sewer hideout. The ceiling cracked. Chunks of stone broke off and smashed down onto his head. Then the entire structure ruptured and the tunnel flooded. When he opened his mouth to scream, his lungs filled with water.

  Giacomo woke, gasping for air, a bright light assaulting him. The sun blazed through an opening in the curtains, shining right into his eyes. He ducked under the covers, trying to hold on to the reunion with his parents. But the moment was gone.

  He peeled back the blankets, letting his eyes adjust. He didn’t remember getting into the bed. He must’ve done it in the middle of the night. Giacomo looked at the other pillow, but his Genius wasn’t there. He jumped up and searched the room.

  “Hey, little guy, you here?” Little guy? Giacomo sighed. I really have to come up with a name. As soon as I find him.

  He pulled on his pants and tunic, then checked behind the wardrobe, under the piles of blankets, and behind the furniture. No luck.

  He headed down the hall toward the kitchen. Maybe his Genius had gotten hungry and left to find breakfast. Through a large hallway window, he noticed that the sun was already high in the sky. Everyone was probably already up. Why hadn’t anyone woken him?

  He descended the stairs, struck by the villa’s eerie quiet. The kitchen and dining room were deserted, as were the library, the sitting area, and ten other rooms that may or may not have had a specific purpose. Where were the servants, the cooks, the maids? A place this size seemed like it would need a small army to keep it running, but so far the only person he’d seen doing any cooking or cleaning had been Baldassare’s wife. He guessed that to keep the Geniuses a secret, Baldassare couldn’t employ any outside help. In Virenzia, you never knew who you could trust.

  “Hello? Anyone here?” Giacomo’s voice echoed through the villa.

  At the end of a hall, he spotted a familiar face passing by.

  “Enzio!” Giacomo called out, waving to him.

  The boy shot him an annoyed look and kept going.

  “Hold on, I want to ask you something!” Giacomo caught up to Enzio and stopped in front of him.

  Enzio tapped his foot impatiently. “Yeah? What?”

  “I was wondering if you know where Aaminah or Milena or Savino are?”

  “You check Pietro’s studio?” Enzio shoved Giacomo aside.

  “The cellar. Of course!” He should’ve looked there first and saved himself the awkward interaction with Enzio.

  Walking away, Enzio muttered, “You have your own Genius and you couldn’t figure that out? Pathetic.” He rounded the corner and vanished.

  Giacomo didn’t know who he liked less—Savino or Enzio. But he was sure they were two of the most disagreeable people he’d ever met.

  He found the gold-framed painting of the Supreme Creator and swung it open, revealing the passageway he’d come through yesterday.

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he came upon Milena and Savino standing in the center of the room, Gaia and Nero perched on their shoulders. Pietro sat on a chair in the corner, a glass of red wine cradled in his hand. Giacomo was relieved to see his own Genius sitting with Aaminah and Luna at the table. When Aaminah spotted him, she gave him a friendly grin and waved. Giacomo smiled back.

  “Brushes up,” Pietro instructed.

  Milena and Savino raised their paintbrushes in front of them as if they were about to lay the first strokes on a canvas, except they weren’t standing in front of easels.

  “Picture a hexagon,” Pietro continued. “Visualize each of its six sides. Can you see it?”

  “Yes,” Milena said.

  “Got it,” Savino quickly followed.

  “Now, bring it to light.”

  Savino and Milena both brushed six short strokes in the air, signaling their Geniuses to illuminate their gems. A brilliant blue light shot out of Nero’s crown and projected Savino’s hexagon into the center of the room. At least five feet tall, the hexagon’s bold, rough lines hung in the air as if cast against a wall. At the same time, Gaia projected a green light, forming an equally large hexagon, but with a thin, delicate outline. Both colorful shapes hummed with energy, their edges vibrating; their centers were translucent, like a section of a stained glass window.

  When Giacomo was very young, his parents had used their Geniuses to create similar glowing shapes. When he lay restlessly in bed, his mother would draw little stars in the air and her Genius would project them on the ceiling and walls. Floating among the stars always calmed him down and helped him fall asleep. Now that he had his own Genius, he couldn’t wait for Pietro to teach him how to master the technique.

  Giacomo stepped into the room, catching Milena’s attention. She glanced at him and immediately her hexagon’s precise form wavered; its gentle, low hum became a high-pitched buzz.

  “Milena. Focus,” Pietro said brusquely.

  She gripped her brush tighter, trying to bring her hexagon under control, but it shifted sideways and collided with Savino’s. A wave of heat and light surged through the studio, knocking Savino and Milena off their feet. Their Geniuses squawked and scattered.

  Savino picked himself off the floor. “Quit messing up my work, Milena.”

  “I got distracted,” Milena complained. She dusted off her dress and gave Giacomo a look. “Thanks a lot.”

  “What did I do? I was just watching,” Giacomo said, offended that she was blaming him.

  Giacomo’s Genius flew over and landed on his shoulder, greeting him with a buoyant chirp. “Good morning to you too,” Giacomo said. “You should’ve let me know you were coming down here.”

  “Is this how you wanted to begin your first day of lessons?” Pietro said gruffly. “By being late and disruptive?”

  Giacomo’s cheeks burned. “Signor Barrolo didn’t tell me what time to come down and no one woke me up, so—”

  “Your excuses don’t interest me. Are you serious about mastering your Genius?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “You’re not acting like it.”

  “I want to learn,” Giacomo said firmly. “That’s why I came here.”

  Pietro pulled a long piece of black silk off the table and dangled it from his fingers. “Savino, would you blindfold Giacomo?”

  Savino smiled. “Absolutely.” He snatched the blindfold from Pietro.

  “Hold on a second—” Giacomo started, but Savino ignored his protest and wrapped the fabric around his eyes. His vision plunged into darkness. “I can’t see anything.”

  “That’s
the point, idiot.” Savino cinched the blindfold extra tight, yanking back Giacomo’s head.

  “We’ll start with the basics,” Pietro began. “You’re going to draw a circle.”

  “A circle?” Giacomo chortled. “I don’t need a Genius to do that.”

  “Then please, demonstrate your inspiring circle-drawing abilities for us.” Pietro’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.

  “I’d love to, but I can’t draw anything with this stupid blindfold on.” Giacomo tugged at the knot, unable to loosen it.

  “Leave it,” Pietro commanded. “To form a deeper connection with your Genius and unlock its true potential, you need to change your perception of reality.”

  Giacomo dropped his hands to his sides and groaned. “Fine. So how do I do that exactly?”

  “There’s a piece of charcoal lying on the edge of the worktable. Pick it up, take it to the paper on the easel, and draw a circle with it.”

  Giacomo remembered the table with the art supplies was about twenty paces to his left and the easel stood just beyond. If he could find his way through Virenzia’s aqueducts without a light, this should be easy. He took a couple of tentative steps forward, feeling the area in front of him. His arm knocked into someone.

  “Watch it!” Savino shoved him. Giacomo spun around and caught his balance. But now he had no idea which way he was facing.

  “Try using your Genius as a guide,” Aaminah offered.

  “Don’t help him,” Savino said.

  “I can do this.” Giacomo stumbled around the room, grasping at nothing. He imagined Milena and the others shaking their heads at his foolishness.

  “You’re doing an amazing job so far,” Savino said, adding to Giacomo’s already growing insecurity.

  He swallowed his pride and took Aaminah’s advice, calling out to his Genius. “Help me find the charcoal, little guy.”

  “You really need a name for him,” Milena commented.

  “I know, I know…”

  His Genius emitted a slow, steady chirp.

  Chi … chi … chi …

 

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