Rebel Genius

by Michael Dante DiMartino

  Giacomo noticed Pietro had stayed back with Tito, petting his beak, looking lost in thought. Hesitant, he approached. “Master Pietro? Are you all right?”

  Pietro shook his head and scowled. “All those years … He pretended to care about me, acted like we were a team. It was all a lie.”

  “How could you have suspected Baldassare was going to betray you?” Giacomo said. “None of us did.”

  Pietro turned away without another word. Giacomo got the sense that Baldassare’s betrayal wasn’t the only thing upsetting him. This stony silence was exactly what Giacomo had feared when he’d told Pietro he was a Tulpa. He must hate me.

  Zanobius emerged from the cave, holding a limp Enzio in his arms.

  “Is he…?” Aaminah asked.

  Giacomo’s stomach sank. We’re too late …

  “He’s still breathing, but only barely,” Zanobius said.

  Relief coursed through Giacomo.

  Zanobius laid Enzio under the tree and looked desperately at Aaminah. “Can you help him?”

  “I hope so,” Aaminah said.

  “But all your instruments are back in the piazza,” Savino pointed out.

  Aaminah slipped a hand into her boot, pulling out a half-sized version of her flute. “I had this one tucked away the whole journey, just in case,” she said with a smile. She sat by Enzio’s side and began to play. A string of yellow shapes sprinkled over Enzio like drops of rain. Giacomo let the music wash over him too, soothing his nerves and calming his soul.

  “One question.” Milena looked quizzically at Giacomo. “You shut the portal so Nerezza couldn’t follow us. Why didn’t Ugalino try to stop us from showing up in Virenzia?”

  “Because he wanted me to go after him.”

  “Why?”

  “So he could convince me to join his side.”

  Pietro flinched in surprise when he heard that. “He did?”

  “But you didn’t let him out of the Wellspring,” Savino said. “I guess he wasn’t very persuasive.”

  Giacomo’s heart felt heavy. Letting Ugalino die hadn’t been an easy decision. But if he hadn’t, Zanobius would still be under his control. And more innocent people would have suffered at his hands. “The thing is … a lot of what he said, I actually agreed with,” he admitted.

  “Then he has poisoned your mind!” Pietro shuffled over. “Let me guess, he told you artists shouldn’t be bound by rules or limitations? That man was driven only by his ego. He lost his soul long ago.”

  “Is that why you kicked him out of your studio?” Giacomo asked bitingly.

  Pietro tensed. Milena’s and Savino’s eyes widened in shock.

  “You never told us Ugalino used to be your student,” Milena said.

  Pietro nodded reluctantly. “It’s true. He was young and arrogant. I thought expelling him would discourage him … humble him a bit. Instead, it did the exact opposite. He became even more single-minded and strong-willed.”

  “But instead of forbidding him from creating a Tulpa, you could’ve guided him,” Giacomo said. “Why didn’t you show him a better way?”

  “I tried, but he wasn’t interested in hearing anything that challenged his pursuit of power. There was no getting through to him,” Pietro lamented. “His intentions were misguided from the start.”

  Giacomo steeled himself to ask the question he wasn’t sure he really wanted answered. “Do you think my parents were wrong to create me?”

  Pietro’s hand shot out toward him, and Giacomo flinched. Then he felt his teacher’s rough fingertips graze his face, like the first time they’d met. Pietro smiled, ever so slightly. “Even though I didn’t know your parents, it’s obvious they created you out of love, from deep in their souls. What you did today was bold and courageous.”

  “So you’re not going to cast me out?” Giacomo asked hopefully.

  Pietro shook his head. “I believe the Creator may have bigger plans for you. And we still have a lot of work to do.”

  “Find the other Sacred Tools and remove Nerezza from power,” Milena said resolutely.

  Tears welled in Giacomo’s eyes. “You … you can’t drive Zanobius away either. He needs us. Just because Ugalino created him a certain way, that doesn’t mean he can’t change.”

  “He seems to care about Enzio’s fate,” Pietro remarked. “And without Ugalino’s influence, he may prove to be a valuable ally.”

  “So he’s part of our group now, like it’s no big deal?” Savino asked resentfully.

  Giacomo held up the Compass. “If you have a problem with it, I can send you back to Virenzia right now.”

  Savino held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Don’t get so bent out of shape about it. By the way, can I get my sketchbook back?”

  Giacomo lowered his gaze. “Yeah … about that … It kind of got destroyed. Ugalino’s fault.”

  With a groan, Savino slumped and shook his head.

  “What a loss for the art world,” Milena teased. “All your sketches of nude sculptures are gone forever.”

  Savino blushed. “Hey, they were really good drawings!”

  At the river’s edge, Tito dipped his head into the water and splashed it over his body. With a playful squawk, he ruffled his feathers, spraying them all. Nero, Gaia, Luna, and Mico frolicked in the river around their huge companion.

  “Sounds like Tito is enjoying being outside,” Pietro said.

  “I’m just happy he’s finally getting a bath,” Savino commented. “He’s always been one smelly Genius.”

  Giacomo and his friends kept vigil through the night, while Aaminah’s healing music gradually coaxed Enzio back to life. They filled in Pietro on the details of their harrowing journey, trading turns recounting their adventures escaping the living statues, finding the duke’s mysterious camera obscura, and surviving the Land of the Dead.

  “There’s one thing I still don’t understand,” Giacomo said to Pietro. “If I’m a Tulpa, how can I also have a Genius?”

  Pietro stroked his beard, deep in thought. “That is a mystery, Giacomo. The Creator must have given you one for a reason. And how can we explain your connection to the Sacred Tools? Or why you and Zanobius are such different Tulpas? These are questions that are beyond my current comprehension.”

  “That doesn’t really help,” Giacomo muttered.

  “There are no easy answers, in life or in art. You’re not following anyone’s path now, you’re forging your own. No doubt, you will find it both lonely and scary. But no one ever said having a Genius would be easy.”

  Giacomo sighed. “How do you always know how to make me feel inspired and hopeless at the same time?”

  Pietro shrugged. “It’s my gift.”

  Enzio groaned and opened his eyes.

  “He’s awake!” Zanobius announced with relief.

  Enzio weakly reached for Zanobius. “You … you came back for me.” His words were barely more than a whisper.

  Zanobius smiled and clasped his massive hand around Enzio’s. “Of course. I made a promise.” He pulled Enzio up and leaned him against the tree. Aaminah let the last note hang in the air before she put her small flute down.

  “I thought I was never going to leave that cave again.” Enzio gave Aaminah’s hand a light squeeze. “Your music never sounded so beautiful. I’m sorry I ever gave you a hard time for practicing.”

  “It’s okay,” Aaminah said. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  Enzio looked across everyone’s faces, his gaze stopping on the Compass in Giacomo’s hands. “You found it,” he said, sounding surprised. “My father’s probably thrilled. Where is he?”

  They were all silent.

  Enzio’s brow wrinkled. “What happened?”

  Realizing nobody was going to speak up, Giacomo delivered the news. “He betrayed us all. This whole time, he was only using us to find the Compass so he could hand it over to Nerezza.”

  Enzio’s face looked blank. Was he upset? Angry? Giacomo couldn’t tell.

>   With a dismissive snort, Enzio said, “Figures. He’s always been more concerned with himself than with anyone else.” His expression turned anxious. “What about my mother?”

  “She was safe at the villa when Tito and I left,” Pietro said. “But unfortunately, none of us can return to Virenzia right now. It’s too dangerous.”

  “After what my father did, do you think I’d want to go back home? I don’t care if I ever see him again.” Enzio looked around at the group and the tension in his face eased. “I’m just glad you all came back for me.”

  Savino leaned in. “Oh, and one thing we should get out of the way—Giacomo’s a Tulpa.”

  Enzio rubbed his brow. “What? A Tulpa? Since when?”

  “Apparently all my life,” Giacomo said. “But I only realized it a few hours ago.”

  “Another Tulpa, huh?” Enzio cracked a smile. “I knew there was something off about you. But don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.”

  “Thanks … I guess?”

  * * *

  Zanobius helped them all catch and cook fish. Giacomo eagerly gobbled one down and fed Mico a small piece from his share. With all the excitement, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Zanobius handed a cooked fish to Savino, who eyed it warily, but took it anyway. Milena and Aaminah chatted quietly with Enzio, and Pietro fed tiny bits of fish to the Geniuses. Giacomo was impressed by how quickly everyone had recovered. Despite barely escaping Nerezza with their lives, here they were, relaxing around a fire and enjoying food. He was reminded of what it felt like to be part of a family.

  Giacomo nibbled the last of his fish off the bones and rinsed his hands in the river. He turned at the sound of footsteps. Milena knelt by his side.

  “Here,” she said, reaching into her bag. “You should keep this.” She handed him the Tulpa cipher, its edges brittle and blackened from the fire. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you to have it.”

  Giacomo dried his hands on his tunic and took the parchment, tucking it into his pocket. “Thanks.”

  “You think it’ll help you understand what … I mean, who you are?”

  “I hope so,” Giacomo said. He stared into her brown eyes, the moonlight reflected in them. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back. His whole body relaxed in her warm embrace.

  * * *

  Exhaustion overtook the group, and one by one they all found places to rest their heads for the night. Milena, Savino, and Aaminah circled the glowing fire, while Pietro curled against Tito for warmth.

  Zanobius sat by the river’s edge, staring up at the sky.

  “You like watching the stars too?” Giacomo took a seat next to him and gazed up.

  “Before Ugalino brought me to life, I remember being surrounded by them. Maybe that’s why they’ve always given me comfort.”

  “So did all your memories come back?”

  Zanobius nodded. “Most of them. But there are still some hazy patches. I want you to know, I tried before.”

  “Tried what?”

  “To break Ugalino’s hold on me. But every time, he wiped my memory and I went back to being a mindless monster.”

  “You’re not a monster. That’s only what Ugalino wanted you to believe.”

  “I should be glad I can remember my life now. But it also feels like a curse. I hurt so many people. Ended so many lives. Did you know Ozo used to have a wife and daughter?”

  “He did?”

  “They’d still be alive if it wasn’t for me. That’s why Ozo tried to cut me down. He wanted revenge. I don’t blame him.”

  Giacomo was silent for a moment as he took this in. “No wonder he wanted me dead too. He saw any Tulpa as a threat.”

  He thought about Ugalino and how he had pleaded for his life. A stomach-churning feeling took hold. Giacomo told himself Ugalino’s death had been necessary to save himself and Zanobius, but it didn’t change the facts of the matter. I’m a murderer.

  Zanobius tapped him softly on the arm. “Are you all right? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

  “Do you think I’m a bad person?” Giacomo asked.

  “Of course not,” Zanobius answered. “But unfortunately, not everyone will see the good in you. Once word gets out that you’re a Tulpa, there will be a lot of people like Ozo coming after you. They won’t care what kind of person you are, just what you are.”

  The warning gave him chills. For most of his life, he’d protected himself by hiding away. But by taking the Compass and telling Nerezza he was a Tulpa, Giacomo had made himself a target. The only way to survive now was to keep moving forward on his new path. But it felt like holding a candle in a tunnel; he was blind to the twists and turns that lay ahead.

  Zanobius and Giacomo gazed up. The night sky hung like a canvas, painted with so many dots, to count them all would take a thousand lifetimes. For now, Giacomo felt content with the life he’d been given. Two stars sparkled brighter than the others. Giacomo imagined they were his parents, winking at him from above, letting him know he was going to be all right. I have my Genius, I have my friends, and I’m safe, at least for tonight.

  “Good night,” he said to Zanobius.

  “Good night.”

  Giacomo curled up by the fire, where the last burning embers fought to stay lit against the cool air. He checked to make sure no one was looking, then pulled out the charred piece of parchment from his pocket. The illustration of the eight-limbed man stared back at him from the cipher; there was no mystery about where Ugalino had gotten his inspiration for Zanobius’s appearance. But could the cipher tell Giacomo why he and Zanobius were so different? Why eating and sleeping came naturally to him, but not to Zanobius? Why Zanobius couldn’t feel physical pain, but Giacomo was acutely aware of even the tiniest scratch? In time, he was confident he could uncover the secrets that the parchment held, and possibly discover a way to return his parents’ souls to this world. But Giacomo knew they wouldn’t be the same. It would be like making a copy of a master painting. Similar in appearance, but never the real thing.

  He crumpled the parchment in his hand and held it over the fire, hesitating for a moment. He looked back up at the two sparkling stars. I love you, he thought. He cast the parchment into the embers, where it went up in a burst of flame.

  Giacomo lay down and Mico hopped toward him, tucking his feathered body into the crook of his arm. He realized something was different about his Genius. “You seem bigger…”

  When Mico had first showed up, he easily fit in the palm of Giacomo’s hand. Now, he was at least twice the size. Mico softly trilled and closed his eyes.

  Giacomo stared at the ashes, where one final ember refused to die out. Sometime later, he drifted off to sleep. When he awoke, the dawn sky glowed pink, and the same ember still burned.

  Author’s Note

  The book you hold in your hands began with a concept: art is magic. But it took over a decade and many false starts to figure out how to tell an exciting and entertaining story that expressed that idea.

  See, the challenge of writing a story where art is magic is that something magical needs to happen. So even though I was drawing on the history and art of Renaissance Italy for inspiration, I wanted the world I was creating to have elements of fantasy. In my early brainstorming notes, I wrote about sculptures that came to life, but I had yet to figure out how to visualize the artistic process in a magical way.

  Then, in doing research for the book, I read Fritjof Capra’s The Science of Leonardo, where I came across the term genius. I discovered that the word implied something very different during the Middle Ages and the Renaissance than it does now. In Latin, a genius meant a guardian spirit, either of a person or a place, and was credited with an artist’s remarkable creative powers. Nowadays, when we talk about a gifted person, we say they are a genius; long ago, we would have said a talented person had a genius. I loved the idea of my story’s hero having a real-life muse that guided and protected him. Thus, Giacomo’s Genius was born. Its bi
rdlike appearance was inspired by Hindu and Buddhist imagery of Garuda, a divine human-bird that is often depicted with a jeweled crown.

  But I still needed some magic. I had been vaguely familiar with sacred geometry, as it related to artistic design and composition, and thought it might provide a framework for how the magic in my fantasy world could work. I picked up a book by Michael S. Schneider called A Beginner’s Guide to Constructing the Universe, which wove together the history and philosophy of sacred geometry along with practical instructions on how to create each shape. I was especially attracted to the idea that sacred geometry is a means of expressing our creative souls and our spiritual souls as well. As I learned how to build shapes, I began as Giacomo did, with a healthy amount of skepticism. What’s so magical about a circle? I thought. But as I discovered how this seemingly simple form gave birth to every shape, I was like a kid again, excited by the hidden world that was opening up to me. Thanks to Mr. Schneider and his book for inspiring the magic of Rebel Genius.

  The final element that brought the story together was the idea of a living sculpture that was cursed in some way. The character of Zanobius stemmed in a general way from the golem in Jewish folklore, but more specifically from the Tibetan Buddhist concept of the tulpa. This mystical being is given physical form through an act of imagination, which seemed appropriate for a book about artists. Leonardo da Vinci’s drawing of the human body’s harmonious proportions in Vitruvian Man provided the template for Zanobius’s appearance, as well as for the Tulpa cipher that Giacomo finds.

  When I first came up with the idea for this book, I didn’t think it would amount to anything, much less be published. But my Genius spirit kept prodding me to press on, even when I thought my writing was worthless. I hope Rebel Genius inspires you to create something meaningful to you, in whatever form that takes.

  Your Genius is out there, just waiting to find you.

  Acknowledgments

  I’m truly grateful to everyone who helped make my first foray into book writing a smooth and enjoyable experience.

  To my editor, Connie Hsu, for your patient guidance, thoughtful questions, and brilliant insights. You’ve treated my characters and me with the utmost respect and care.