Rebel Genius

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Rebel Genius Page 16

by Michael Dante DiMartino


  “Wait,” Milena interrupted. “What was Enzio doing there?”

  “Leading them to the Compass,” Giacomo said. “Ugalino must have shown up at the villa after we left and taken Enzio hostage. He knew where the Compass was.”

  “If that’s true, then Pietro, Baldassare, and Fabiana might be…” Milena couldn’t say the word. Giacomo feared the worst too.

  “So Ugalino already has the Compass,” Savino said, sounding defeated.

  “Actually, no,” Giacomo said. “When he tried to take it, his hand passed right through. It was only an illusion.”

  “But that means we have to start our whole search over,” Savino muttered. He slammed his fist against the box. “Unbelievable!”

  A curious look crossed Milena’s face as her focus shifted to the structure surrounding them. “Giacomo, I think I might know how you were able to trigger the Wellspring.”

  “How?”

  “This box is a giant camera obscura.”

  “What’s that?” Giacomo asked.

  “It’s an optical device artists use to help them draw realistic scenes,” Milena described. “Light from outside passes through a small hole and gets projected upside down on the wall of a dark room, where the artist traces the image.”

  “Pietro had us build one once,” Savino added. “But it was a lot smaller than this.”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure the duke didn’t make this one to learn how to draw better,” Giacomo said.

  Milena continued her inspection of the camera obscura. “You said that after you got locked in, you saw images projected on the wall?”

  “That’s right,” Giacomo said. “Some were anatomy drawings, then a bunch of different shapes. The last one was the mandorla. But I don’t understand how a projection of the mandorla could have opened the Wellspring.”

  “You triggered the Wellspring by accident before,” Savino piped up. “You sure that’s not what happened?”

  “I don’t think so,” Giacomo said. “When the Wellspring opened, Mico wasn’t even shining his gem.”

  “What if the light was coming from a different Genius’s gem?” Milena suggested. She walked to the glass portal and peered closely at the hole where the light had passed through. “Look. This isn’t an ordinary piece of glass.”

  Embedded in the wall was a faceted clear jewel. Giacomo had mistaken it for foggy glass earlier, but now he could see its resemblance to a Genius’s gem.

  “But I don’t think Duke Oberto had a Genius, so where did he get the gem?” Giacomo wondered out loud.

  “How do you think?” Savino said. “Probably stole it off a dead Genius.”

  Giacomo recoiled. “That’s horrible.” He began to piece it all together: the duke’s strange scars, those disfigured creatures, a stolen Genius gem. They were all connected by one thing—the Wellspring.

  Giacomo looked around and noticed something was missing. “Did you see those creatures in the cages when you came down here?”

  “How could we miss them?” Savino said.

  Milena’s nose wrinkled. “They’re revolting. What was the duke doing with them?”

  “There was one in here earlier. It crossed over with me, but then it ran off.”

  “You think it was absorbed back into the Wellspring?” Milena asked.

  “Possibly,” Giacomo said. “But listen … I think the duke was trying to create his own Tulpa. That’s what all those creatures are—his failed experiments.”

  Milena gasped.

  “So this is some kind of Tulpa-making machine?” Savino stepped out of the doorway, putting some distance between himself and the box.

  “It has to be,” Giacomo said. “I got a look at Ugalino’s Tulpa up close. There were tattoos on its chest and back that looked exactly like the symbols I saw projected on the wall. The duke’s Tulpas have parts of the same markings too. I thought they were only scars at first.”

  Giacomo, Milena, and Savino stood in shock, struggling to comprehend the horror they’d uncovered. The silence was broken by a racket of urgent squawks.

  They scrambled out of the camera obscura and found Nero, Gaia, and Mico atop a tall cabinet against the wall. The Geniuses pecked at the wood with their beaks, trying to break in.

  “Mico, come on. We should go back upstairs.” Giacomo whistled for his Genius, but as usual, Mico didn’t listen to him.

  “Wait,” Milena said, walking toward the cabinet. “I think our Geniuses are onto something.” She pulled the cabinet door, but it was locked.

  Savino glanced around for a key, but didn’t find one. He pulled out his pencil and sketched a triangular shape in the air. Nero projected a blue blast of energy at the lock, shattering it. The doors swung open, exposing stacks of parchment with drawings, along with several sketchbooks. Milena flipped through them, her face lighting up. “Plans for the camera obscura, notes on the Wellspring, some bizarre-looking symbols … I’m going to need time to study it all, but I think these might help explain what happened to you, Giacomo.”

  “Think they’ll also help us figure out where the Compass really is?” Giacomo asked.

  “I have no idea,” she said. “But for now, they’re all we have to go on.”

  They were about to head upstairs when Ozo’s voice bellowed through the chamber. “What wretchedness is this?”

  The Tulpas. Giacomo dashed over and met Ozo and Zatto by the cages.

  After Giacomo shared what they’d learned about the duke’s Tulpa experiments, Ozo’s brow furrowed and his hand grasped the hilt of his sword. “We need to destroy them.”

  Giacomo jumped in front of one of the cages. “No! You can’t.”

  “One of these gets out, it’ll rip you limb from limb.” Ozo drew his weapon.

  Giacomo looked into the eye of one of the disfigured Tulpas, crouched in its prison. It gazed back with a watery stare, and its vicious growling quieted.

  “But I was close to one and it didn’t touch me. They’re ugly and smelly, sure, but otherwise harmless.” Giacomo couldn’t explain why he was defending them, but the thought of Ozo running his sword through their bodies didn’t feel right.

  “Nothing harmless about Tulpas,” Ozo snarled.

  “What else can we do with them, Giacomo?” Milena said, coming up behind him. “We can’t release them and we certainly can’t take them with us.”

  “So letting Ozo slaughter them is better?”

  “It might seem harsh, but it’s more humane than leaving them caged up while they waste away.” She took him by the arm and tried to lead him away, but Giacomo stayed put.

  “Get him out of here,” Ozo ordered.

  Zatto wrapped his thick hands around Giacomo’s shoulders. “My apologies.” Giacomo tried to break free, but unsurprisingly, Zatto’s grip was a lot stronger than Milena’s. “We found quite a lot of tasty food in the kitchen. Maybe you’d like a snack?”

  “I don’t want a snack!” Giacomo thrashed and kicked as Zatto pulled him up the stairs. Milena and Savino trailed behind.

  Giacomo watched helplessly as Ozo plunged his blade between the bars of the first cage. An ear-piercing squeal made his blood run cold. He looked away. A chorus of shrieks followed as the Tulpas met their end.

  * * *

  Back in the hallway, Zatto released Giacomo, who dropped to his knees, head in hands, trying not to burst into tears. Mico settled on his shoulder and offered a comforting chirrup.

  “I don’t get what the big deal is,” Savino said. “Those things were monstrosities. Good riddance to them.”

  “At least they’re not suffering anymore,” Milena said, trying to make him feel better. He didn’t.

  Giacomo got up and trudged away, following the sound of harp music. “I’m going to see how Aaminah’s doing with Ersilia’s grandmother.”

  Flames roared in the great hall’s gigantic stone hearth. Aaminah played a soothing song for an old woman who lay on a long cushioned bench, her head in Ersilia’s lap. Luna projected waves of yellow light
over the old woman’s limp body. Almost immediately, Giacomo’s tense muscles relaxed. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like the music was having the same effect on Ersilia’s grandmother.

  “How’s she doing?” Giacomo asked.

  Aaminah glanced up and shook her head, a despairing look on her face. Giacomo had never seen her look so sad.

  Savino and Milena came in and spread out the parchments they’d found across the long dining table. Soon after, Ozo stepped into the doorway, his sword dripping red spots on the white marble. Ersilia gasped. “What … what have you done?”

  “Took care of an infestation in your cellar,” Ozo said. “Duke Oberto ever let you go down there?”

  “No, it was strictly off-limits to the maidservants,” she replied.

  “I figured as much.” Ozo wiped the blood on his leather pants and sheathed his sword. “We’re going to spend the night,” he informed everyone. “Lots of nice cushy beds in the castle, so take your pick. Then back on the road first thing.”

  “There’s one problem,” Milena said. “The Compass isn’t at the Cave of Alessio. We need to change course.”

  Savino tipped his head toward Giacomo. “His fault.”

  “It’s not there?” Ozo’s jaw clenched and he pressed his fingers against his scarred temple. “Then where are we headed?”

  “That’s the problem,” Milena said. “We don’t know yet.”

  Ozo growled and shook his head. “You got until morning to figure it out. Otherwise, I’m calling off this mission and taking you back to Virenzia. I’ve already lost too many men as it is.” Ozo marched down the hall, the heavy clomp of his boots fading away.

  Milena split the parchments into three piles. “Start going through these. Anything that seems promising, let me know.” Giacomo joined them at the table and began riffling through his stack.

  “How about we throw you back inside the camera obscura?” Savino suggested to Giacomo. “Maybe you can find some new clues in the Wellspring.”

  “I got sucked in by accident, I’m not going back on purpose. I thought I was going to die in the Wellspring. I’m staying as far away from the camera obscura as possible, especially now that Ozo turned the cellar into a slaughterhouse.”

  “Why are you being so weird about a few dead Tulpas?” Savino asked. “The whole point of finding the Sacred Tools is so we can use them to destroy Ugalino’s Tulpa.”

  Giacomo kept his eyes on the papers. “I know … but … Ozo was acting cruel. It was like he enjoyed killing them.”

  “If he hadn’t gotten rid of them, I’d have done it myself,” Savino bragged.

  “And I don’t think Zanobius is as mindless and dangerous as Pietro and Baldassare believe,” Giacomo said.

  “Not dangerous? I thought you saw him try to drown Enzio.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I got the sense he didn’t really want to.”

  “So now you think a Tulpa can have feelings?”

  “Why not? Zanobius looks human, he moves like a human—”

  “It’s a Tulpa!” Savino interrupted. “There’s nothing human about it!”

  Aaminah’s music stopped. “If you’re going to yell, do it somewhere else,” she snapped. “I’m trying to create a soothing mood here.”

  “Sorry,” Giacomo said, feeling annoyed. He didn’t know why he was apologizing when Savino was the one raising his voice.

  “Can we focus on finding the Compass?” Milena said, trying to get them back on course.

  Aaminah strummed her harp, and music filled the room once again. Giacomo’s frazzled nerves settled and he focused back on the duke’s papers. As he sorted through the stack, he came across a page full of different patterns inside rows of squares.

  “Think these doodles mean anything?” Giacomo showed the parchment to Milena.

  She glanced at the patterns. “Maybe…” Suddenly, her eyes lit up and she snatched the paper out of his hands. “Wait, it’s a cipher! It has to be!”

  Her excitement was lost on Giacomo. “What’s a cipher?”

  “It’s a key that helps you figure out a secret message,” she said, buzzing with energy. “Look, there are twenty-six different patterns. I bet each one corresponds to a letter.”

  Savino peeked over her shoulder to get a look at the symbols.

  “But I haven’t seen any other piece of paper with those symbols on it. Have you? If it is a cipher, we’d need the message it was meant to decode.”

  “Keep looking,” Milena told him. “It must be in here somewhere.”

  They all riffled through the parchments, but Giacomo couldn’t find anything with the same symbols.

  “Got something!” Savino held up a piece of parchment. On it were rows of the same cipher patterns grouped together, like words.

  Milena placed the message next to the cipher. “Now we need to figure out which letters correspond to which patterns.”

  They first tried assigning A to the first pattern, B to the second pattern, and C to the third, but it soon became apparent that whoever had made the cipher hadn’t made it that simple to figure out.

  “Look at the message.” Milena pointed to a box with wavy lines that angled to the right. “This is a one-letter word. It can only be A or I, right?”

  “Good point.” Giacomo made a mental note.

  “We should focus on the two- and three-letter words too. Notice how these two are identical?” She pointed to a clump of three symbols at the start of the message and in the middle. “It’s most likely and or the.”

  Giacomo nodded, impressed by Milena’s quick thinking.

  “And here,” she said, pointing to two identical grid-like patterns sitting next to each other. “This has to be a double letter, like SS, TT, or OO.”

  They each copied the message into their sketchbooks and set to work using Milena’s tips as the starting point. But no matter what combination of letters he tried, Giacomo kept coming up with nonsense.

  “And blomboo went to … A bend opened in … and backache lost?”

  “Well, I guess we can stop the search for the Compass,” Milena said sarcastically. “Turns out some guy named Blomboo’s had it this whole time.”

  “Ignore her,” Savino said. “Just keep at it.”

  The three of them worked late into the night, past the time when Ersilia covered her grandmother in a blanket and kissed her good night. Past the time when Aaminah stopped playing, her fingers raw and blistered. Past the time when the roaring fire diminished to a pile of glowing embers. And past the time when their Geniuses fell asleep high in the great hall’s eaves.

  Savino slumped over the table and put his head in his hands. His head jerked as he tried to fight off sleep.

  “Lie down, Savino,” Milena said. “We’ll keep working.”

  Savino mumbled something that sounded like “good night” and collapsed in a large chair by the window. Within seconds he was snoring.

  Infected by Savino’s sleepiness, Giacomo yawned. In his sketchbook, the symbols blurred.

  “You should get some sleep too,” Milena told him.

  Giacomo rubbed his eyes and the patterns came back into focus. “No, I’m okay.” But as he stared at the different squiggles and lines, they all began to jumble together. He wasn’t brainy like Milena. There was no way he was going to be able to figure out the message. His thoughts turned to Pietro, back at the villa.

  “Do you think they’re okay?” Giacomo said.

  “Who?” Milena asked, not looking up.

  “Pietro, and Signor and Signora Barrolo.”

  Milena put her pencil down. “I honestly don’t know…” Her words trailed off. “But if Pietro were here, I am pretty sure he’d tell us to stay focused on the mission and keep going.” She went back to work.

  Giacomo nodded and looked at the cipher. But as he stared between it and the coded message, he began to drift off. He shook his head and slapped his cheeks to keep himself awake. He pushed the scattered parchments aside and was about to lay his head on
the table, when a symbol on one of the pages caught his attention: a six-pointed star inside a hexagon. It was the same as the tattoo Zanobius had on his chest and back.

  He slid the parchment out from the others. It was a drawing of a man with four arms and four legs. Surrounding him was a circle and a square, which were lined up perfectly with his hands and feet. Ringing the man was a series of three-dimensional shapes, some of which looked similar to the symbols he’d seen projected in the camera obscura.

  Giacomo’s heart raced. Was this a different kind of cipher, one that hid the secrets to creating a Tulpa?

  “What’s that?” Milena asked. She must have noticed the stunned look on his face.

  “Uh … nothing,” Giacomo said, slapping the parchment face down on the table. “I thought it was going to help me figure out this message, but it’s another dead end.”

  “Too bad.” Milena didn’t press him any further.

  Giacomo slyly dragged the parchment off the table, folded it, and tucked it in his satchel. He didn’t trust anyone else with it for the time being, especially Ozo and Savino. They’d tear it to shreds without a second thought. Once he was by himself, he’d examine it more closely.

  The discovery energized Giacomo and he forgot all about sleep, working until sunlight streamed through the window. By then, Milena was slumped over the table, arms splayed, fast asleep.

  But despite staying up all night, Giacomo was no closer to deciphering the message. He peeked across the table at Milena’s sketchbook. Among the scribbles and crossed-out letters she had written:

  The Compass _ _es in a ca_e

  s_ape_ by the Creator’s _a_ _

  o_sc_re_ by A_essio.

  Giacomo couldn’t believe it. She was so close. He shook her. “Milena, wake up!”

  She jolted up to sitting and wiped drool off her mouth. “What time is it?”

  Savino groggily came to and pulled himself out of the chair.

  “The message,” Giacomo said, eagerly pointing at Milena’s notes. “Only a few letters are missing.”

 

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