Zanobius nodded. “Of course.”
“When they’re ready, bring them to me.” Along with the boy, Ugalino added so Enzio couldn’t hear. He disappeared into the cave.
Zanobius emptied his master’s satchel onto the ground. Chunks of green and white rock lay next to iridescent shards of a blue mineral. The remaining raw materials were animal bones, most likely the remains of Ciro’s last meal.
Enzio looked over Zanobius’s shoulder. “You can make paint out of all that?”
“I can show you how, if you’re interested.”
Enzio shrugged. “Not like I have anything else to do.”
“But you have to follow my instructions carefully. My master is very particular about his pigments.”
Zanobius put Enzio to work, first piling stones into a small, enclosed stove, then putting the animal bones inside. Enzio did as he was told, starting the fire and sealing off the opening. “Leave it until the bones are charred,” Zanobius said.
Next, he directed Enzio to wash off the rocks and minerals in the river. Once they were clean, Zanobius ground each one against a larger rock, collecting the falling grains on a sheet of parchment. It was a slow, laborious process, but by sundown, the pieces of hard earth had been transformed into delicate piles of green, white, and blue powder.
Last, he had Enzio pull the bones, which now resembled pieces of charcoal, from the fire. Zanobius ground those too, then carefully transferred the bone powder and each of the pigments into wooden cups. Drop by drop, he mixed in water until the paint became the perfect consistency. Neither too thick nor too runny.
Enzio had turned out to be a studious apprentice, helpful and inquisitive. But a feeling of unease crept through Zanobius. Something told him Ugalino wasn’t keeping Enzio around to help him mix paint. The boy had a critical role to play—but what it was, Zanobius had no idea.
“Why is Ugalino having you make all these colors anyway?” Enzio rinsed his sooty hands off in the river. “If I were him, I’d be looking for the Compass, not wasting my time painting a cave.”
“I’m sure whatever he’s planning will help him on that quest.” Zanobius left it at that. The less Enzio knew, the better. “Ugalino never ceases to surprise me with his creativity.”
Zanobius hid his dread under a smile.
14
TERRA DELLA MORTE
“You sure about this?” Ozo asked, looking very unhappy.
Giacomo had just told him where the real Compass was located, and that they would have to travel through Terra della Morte—the Land of the Dead—to get there.
After yesterday’s Tulpa slaughter, Giacomo had little respect for the mercenary. “Yes, I’m sure,” he said with an irritated edge. I can’t be wrong twice, can I?
“Do Ugalino and his Tulpa know about this new location?” Ozo asked.
“Not yet. But if we could figure it out, it’s only a matter of time before Ugalino does too, so we should leave soon.” Giacomo marched off, with Savino and Milena trailing behind.
“Your friend’s been playing since the sun came up,” Ozo called after them, commenting on the lilting flute music coming from the great hall. “Tell her to pack it up and let’s get moving.”
Giacomo overheard the Bull complaining to Ozo. “The others aren’t gonna be happy about this.”
“They all have a job to complete,” Ozo said. “Those who abandon the mission give up their cut of the money.”
“I’ll tell ’em.”
Giacomo found Aaminah in the great hall, dark circles under her eyes. Despite the beautiful music and Luna’s healing waves of light, the elderly woman still lay unresponsive in Ersilia’s lap, her face drained of color.
“Aaminah…” Giacomo said, gently trying to get her attention.
She kept playing.
“We have to go.”
She pulled the flute away from her lips. The yellow light from her Genius dissolved into the air. “Maybe if I try the viol again.” She reached for her stringed instrument.
Giacomo put a hand on the viol’s neck, stopping her. “You’ve done everything you can.”
“No, I haven’t,” Aaminah snapped. “She’s still as sick as when we got here.” Giacomo had never heard her so upset.
“It’s all right.” Ersilia’s eyes were full of tears. “My grandmother’s been ill a very long time. I’m sure she found comfort listening to your beautiful music. I know I did.”
Aaminah snatched her viol from Giacomo and played a series of long, low notes. Giacomo and Milena shared an uncomfortable look, neither one of them sure how to convince Aaminah to leave the woman’s side.
Savino pushed past and snatched the bow away from Aaminah, cutting off the music.
“Hey!” Aaminah shouted.
“Time to move on,” Savino said harshly.
“Don’t be a jerk about it,” Milena said.
Savino stomped out of the room. “I’ll be outside when you’re all ready.”
Aaminah covered her face and began crying. Giacomo put a hand on her shoulder and tried to comfort her.
“Sometimes the world is unfair and cruel for no good reason,” he said quietly. Giacomo knew that better than anyone, but it never made the grief any easier to bear.
Milena helped Aaminah from the chair and guided her out, leaving Giacomo to collect her instruments.
Ersilia cradled her grandmother’s pale cheek in her hand. “I hope you all find what you’re looking for,” she said, her voice quavering.
“I’m sorry about your grandmother.” Giacomo gathered the flute, harp, and viol in his arms and hurried out, not sure what else to say. From the hall, he heard Ersilia’s faint sobs.
* * *
In the courtyard, Savino and the mercenaries gathered around Ozo. Giacomo counted eleven. Good, they’re all still here. Apparently, the lure of money outweighed their fear of death. For Giacomo, the excitement of being the first to find the Compass kept him motivated, though he was beginning to question whether he would actually use the Sacred Tools against Zanobius if given the chance. Do I really have it in me to kill a Tulpa? Could I be as merciless as Ozo?
“We’ll head west along our original route, then break north,” Ozo announced. “With any luck, we’ll be on the other side of the Land of the Dead in a few days.”
“We go through there and none of us are coming out the other side,” Old Dino warned. “Isn’t there a way around?”
“A detour will set us back more than a month,” Ozo countered. “Ugalino and his Tulpa will have beaten us to the Compass by then. This is the path we’re taking.”
Old Dino shook his head. “Then I guess me and Little Dino are forfeiting our cuts. I already lost one son on this wild-goose chase. I’m not losing another.” Father and son dropped their coin-filled pouches on the ground. Then Old Dino put his hand on Little Dino’s back and led him away.
“I’m with them,” Zatto the Beheader said, throwing his coins down too. “The Compass can’t be worth the lives of all your men, can it?”
“Or women.” Malocchio added her impronta to the pile, then hoisted her bow over her shoulder. “Good luck out there, Ozo.”
The Bull slapped Valcaro on the back. “More for the rest of us!” Valcaro remained silent beneath his helmet.
Zatto, Malocchio, and the Dinos walked out of the courtyard. Giacomo’s heartbeat quickened. Had he been too eager to push on? The mercenaries were battle hardened. Giacomo doubted they ran from a fight without good cause.
Ozo looked across the remaining mercenaries: the Bull, Baby Cannoli, Valcaro, Sforza, Spike, and Sveva. “Anyone else having second thoughts?” The mercenaries shook their heads.
Giacomo wanted to raise his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He’d set these wheels in motion. No stopping us now.
* * *
They set out that morning, and by midday the sun was bearing down on them. The crunch of their footsteps in the pebbly dirt and an occasional Genius squawk were the only sounds for hours.
Aaminah kept her distance behind the group, head hung, staring at the ground. Giacomo slowed his pace.
“You okay?” As soon as he said it, he knew it was a dumb thing to say. Obviously she wasn’t.
Aaminah shrugged and kept her gaze down. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“What doesn’t?”
“Why did the Creator give me a Genius if I can’t use it to heal people?”
“But you’ve helped a lot of people. You fixed me up more than once. And what about Ozo’s troops?”
“Surface wounds are easy. Whatever Ersilia’s grandmother was sick with, it went deep. It felt like I was digging out tangled roots from the ground. I kept pulling and pulling and pulling…” She sounded like she was about to cry.
Milena heard their conversation and joined them. “She reminded you of your mother, didn’t she?”
Aaminah nodded with a sadness in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Giacomo said. “I didn’t know … What happened to your mother?”
“She was sick too,” Aaminah explained. “A terrible fever … By the end she could barely breathe. I played for her night and day, but nothing I did saved her.”
“What about your father? Where was he?” Giacomo asked.
“I never knew him. My mother told me that right after my Genius showed up, he went back to Katunga, where he was from. I was only a few weeks old.”
“He abandoned you when you were a baby?” Giacomo asked. “What kind of person does that?”
“No, he didn’t leave me, he was trying to protect me,” Aaminah explained. “My father was worried that someone would turn my Genius and me over to the Supreme Creator. So he decided to go to his homeland and find somewhere safe to move our family. But he never came back for us.”
“What happened to him?”
“I don’t know. Whenever I asked my mother about him, she put on a hopeful face and reassured me that my father loved me and that he’d return. But before she died, she confessed that he was probably never coming back and told me why: my father’s parents had forbidden him to marry my mother because she was a Zizzolan peasant. When my father married her anyway, they disowned him.”
“Do you think your grandparents stopped your father from bringing you and your mother to Katunga?” Milena asked.
“Maybe,” Aaminah said with a shrug. “You know, sometimes I feel like he’s still out there, looking for me … but other times I think I’m just kidding myself.”
“There’s nothing wrong with having hope,” Milena said.
Aaminah’s story made Giacomo realize that even though he’d been with his new companions for a few weeks now, he barely knew anything about their lives before Baldassare had taken them in.
“Milena, where did you grow up?” Giacomo asked.
“I was born in Virenzia,” Milena said. “Same as Savino.”
“Except her parents were loaded,” Savino piped up. He’d obviously been listening. He dropped back and walked next to Giacomo.
“They were wealthy, it’s true,” Milena said, sounding embarrassed. “Still are, as far as I know.”
“You don’t talk to them?” Giacomo asked.
“Not since I left home.”
Giacomo couldn’t imagine not seeing his parents if they were still alive. “How did they react when your Genius showed up?”
“They didn’t take it well. It was my first birthday. My parents had this big celebration all planned, but the second they saw Gaia, they canceled everything, then spent the next few years trying to get rid of her. My father locked her in a cage and sent her away on one of his merchant ships. He told the captain to release her near an island in the middle of the sea. The captain claimed he did, but somehow, Gaia flew back to Virenzia and found me again. This happened over and over.”
“At least your father didn’t have your Genius killed,” Giacomo said, trying to find a bright spot in her story.
“My parents aren’t the most compassionate people, but they weren’t going to let me become a Lost Soul.” Giacomo noticed Milena rubbing her left arm, where she’d been injured. “Anyway, while all that was going on, my sisters were born, a year apart. And neither one had a Genius. After that, I pretty much became invisible to my parents.
“Then one day, when I was six, Baldassare showed up at our door and offered to take my Genius off their hands. But there was one condition—I had to go with him. My father told him yes on the spot. So they finally got rid of my Genius by getting rid of me too.”
Milena fell silent and looked out toward the distant mountains.
Giacomo turned to Savino. “What about your parents?” he asked.
“They were a couple of gutless fools,” Savino said. “They were so scared of what would happen if someone saw my Genius, they locked me and Nero in my room. The highlight of my day was peeking through the curtains down at the street, imagining myself playing with the other kids. Baldassare showed up when I was seven and offered to take me in, but my parents lied and said I had died in a tragic accident. When I overheard that, I busted out of my room to show Baldassare I was definitely alive, and told him to get me out of there. I never looked back.”
Giacomo couldn’t understand how Milena’s and Savino’s parents could be so uncaring when it came to their Geniuses. But that was the kind of world Nerezza had created, where parents felt like the only way to save their children was to abandon them.
“What’s your story?” Savino asked. “How’d you become a sewer-boy, sewer-boy?”
Giacomo bristled and shook off the insult. Milena shot him a look that said, When are you going to tell Savino to stop calling you that?
“Both my parents were artists who had Geniuses,” Giacomo began, “so I was used to having them around growing up. Of course, my parents had to keep their Geniuses secret, but that didn’t stop my mother and father from painting. I guess they weren’t careful enough, though. When I was five, Nerezza’s soldiers broke into our home. They stuffed my parents’ Geniuses into cages and hauled them away. After that, my mother and father changed. They didn’t go out anymore, and stopped drawing and painting. They’d sit in the living room for hours, just staring at the wall. When it was time for bed, they wouldn’t tuck me in or tell me stories like they used to. By the end, they stopped eating. They even forgot about feeding me. I was too young to understand at the time, but my parents were becoming…” He felt the words get stuck in his throat.
“Lost Souls,” Aaminah said, saving Giacomo from having to say it.
Giacomo took a deep breath, not sure if he could get through the end of the story. “One morning, they didn’t come out of their room. Finally, I went in and found them lying in their bed … but they didn’t wake up…” He wiped his eyes before his tears made a fool out of him.
“Oh, Giacomo…” Aaminah was misty-eyed too.
Milena caringly squeezed his shoulder. Savino gave a heavy nod. No one said anything else for a long while after that.
Ever since his parents’ deaths, Giacomo had felt different, like he didn’t really belong anywhere, or with anyone. But hearing the others tell their stories made Giacomo realize they had more in common than he had thought. Aaminah had lost her mother and been separated from her father, and Milena and Savino were outcasts from their own families. Giacomo’s heart felt more open, knowing they all understood one another a little better. And as he watched the sun dip behind the mountain and turn the clouds a radiant orange, Giacomo knew he’d do anything for these people whom he could now call his friends.
* * *
Over the next four days, the group hiked north, through a mostly desolate part of Zizzola.
Eventually, the dirt trail tapered to a barely visible path, then vanished altogether, leaving the group in the middle of a scrubby desert with piles of boulders scattered in every direction.
“Are we in the Land of Death?” Giacomo asked.
Ozo let loose a raucous howl from deep in his belly. He had barely cracked a smile since they
left Virenzia, so at first Giacomo didn’t recognize the sound as laughter.
“What’s so funny?” Giacomo asked.
Ozo’s laugh faded. “You, kid. Believe me, you’ll know Terra della Morte when you’re in it.”
A few hours later, the group arrived at the edge of a vast canyon. As far as Giacomo could see, jagged pillars stabbed up through the earth, the setting sun glinting off them like a thousand blades of light. He wished Mico were as large as Ugalino’s Genius so they could fly right over.
“Okay, now I see why they call it the Land of Death,” Giacomo said.
Ozo shook his head. “They don’t call it that because it’s nasty-looking. It’s because of the creatures who live down there.”
“The Invisibilia,” Sveva said in a slow, ominous voice. She drew her sword.
“Few have ever survived an encounter with them.” Spike’s intense black eyes stared out from the opening in his face guard. “The ones who have tell of giant lizards that’ll wrap you up in their tongues as strong as chains. And the worst part? You can’t even see ’em when they swallow you whole.”
Giacomo glanced at his friends, who looked as terrified as he felt.
“You’re the one who wanted to go this way,” Savino reminded him. “I tried to warn you.”
At least they had a night to rest before they would be forced to deal with the dangers that lay ahead. Giacomo took his satchel off his shoulder and sat down in the dirt, happy to be off his feet for the first time all day. As the sun dipped behind the horizon, a cool breeze danced through his hair. The ground was hard and rocky, but he didn’t care. He could fall asleep on a bed of nails at this point.
“Back on your feet. We’re not camping tonight,” Ozo said.
“Wait, what?” Giacomo grudgingly picked himself up. Savino, who was sprawled out on the ground next to him, groaned.
Ozo unsheathed his sword. “The Invisibilia are only active when the sun’s out, so the safest time to pass through is now.”
Giacomo followed Ozo to a steep path that dropped into the canyon. Step by perilous step, the group descended single file down a narrow walkway. Mico and the other Geniuses effortlessly glided past them. By the time they reached the bottom, a canopy of stars had filled the sky and darkness enveloped them.
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