Born of Fire: An Elemental Origins Novel

by A. L. Knorr

  Karim reacted. He took a step back, the whites of his eyes visible.

  "To Enzo," I said, extinguishing the flames. "Please." I sounded more commanding than I felt, but my confidence had increased at the shock on Karim’s face.

  Karim took a hand-held radio from his waistband and spoke into it. He unlocked the gate and pushed it open, then stepped aside for me to enter. He'd managed to recover his cool. "Aren't you full of surprises."

  As I entered the property, I just barely stopped myself from gushing 'wowee!' We'd stepped into a massive garden. Fountains and flowered shrubs dotted a perfect lawn. Everything was shadowed by towering Cypress trees. A gigantic yellow villa with Turkish-inspired windows and doorways peeked through the foliage. Arches ran the length of a patio and three-leafed florets topped every arch.

  Two large black dogs lay on the marble and they lifted their heads. I had a moment of fear until a tongue lolled out of one fuzzy black face, and the other thumped his tail against the concrete. Karim spoke to them lovingly in Italian and bent to pat one as we passed. They got up and crowded toward him, their rear ends and stumped tails waggling back and forth.

  I must have looked relieved because Karim said, "What, you thought they were killers? So many people have the wrong impressions about Rotties. When they behave badly, it’s not the dogs fault, it’s the owner. Isn't it, Dan?" he added in a baby voice. He bent his massive frame to put his forehead against the dog's face. The dog half moaned, half growled with pleasure.

  "Dan?" I said, raising an eyebrow. I was starting to feel a little more relaxed. It's just a conversation, remember?

  Karim looked at me with enthusiasm, "Yeah, like Daniel who survived the fiery furnace? From the Bible? I love that story."

  I blinked at him.

  "Don't you read?" he said, exasperated.

  "I know the story, I just..." I tucked my hair behind one ear and cleared my throat. This was getting a bit weird. Was he stalling for time? "Can we go? It really is important."

  "Of course." He told the dogs to stay.

  I followed him down a corridor. So far, I had not seen a single individual other than Karim. We ascended an outdoor stairwell and crossed the second-floor balcony.

  A luxurious terrace spread open before us. The space was wide open and had the feeling of a lounge. Several sets of furniture dotted the space, each with their own private table and partially blocked off by gauzy curtains swaying gently in the breeze. Two men seated at one of these private tables acknowledged Karim. Both men made eye-contact with me but I felt neither threatened by them nor ogled. Both wore business suits.

  One nodded and said, "Salve."

  The other said, "Giorno."

  We approached another set of curtains. Karim pulled the fabric aside.

  "Saxony, meet Enzo. Enzo, this is Saxony Cagney."

  Thirty-Nine

  "Benvenuti, piacere!" Enzo exclaimed warmly. He set his espresso on the glass table in front of his knees and stood, extending both hands to me. I took his right hand and he pulled me toward him to kiss each cheek.

  I was so surprised by this reception that I kissed him back.

  Enzo and Karim exchanged some friendly sounding Italian.

  "What would you like?" Enzo asked. "Cafe? Espresso? Cappuccino? I know you North Americans love the cappuccino. Grappa?"

  "Solo acqua," I said. "Grazie."

  "Sicura?"

  "Sì."

  Karim left us alone.

  "Please, sit down." He gestured to the chair across the table from him. His accent was the strongest I had heard yet.

  I sat in the lounge chair. He pulled up the thighs of his pants to allow himself more room and settled into the cushions. The only thing that told me he was related to Dante was the confident set of his chin and the way he carried his shoulders. I didn’t know what I had been expecting, but the man with the round face and warm, interested gaze was not it. Though his hair was white and thinning, his brows were thick and black. The most disarming part of him was his guileless expression and the chocolate brown eyes that were too big for his face.

  "Where are you from?" He leaned back against the couch and crossed one knee over the other.

  "I'm from the east coast of Canada. I'm here on behalf of someone who owes you something."

  "And who might that be?" He laughed and his belly shook. "A lot of people owe me things."

  "Elda Baseggio."

  "You are a friend of Elda's?" Enzo said, and his black eyebrows jumped like he'd been poked in the ribs. "Elda and I have not spoken in over five year."

  I didn't correct his English. "But you haven't forgotten her debt to you."

  "Of course not, what kind of businessman would I be if I forgot who owes me," he said, chuckling. "But, excuse me, I am confused. You are not here for a job? You are a magus, are you not? You are responding to our request? Our... How do you say it... Our advertisement."

  "Request?" Now I was confused, too. I shook my head. "How does one advertise to hire a magus?"

  "You are asking me?" He put a hairy backed hand to his chest. "You are not part of the... Again, I don't know what you call it in Inglese... the cooperativa?"

  "There's a cooperative of magi?" My jaw dropped. I snapped it shut again. "Where? Here, in Venezia?" Why hadn't Elda mentioned it? She must not have known. I couldn't imagine her hiding such a fact from me. She did say that she was afraid she might be missing some clips.

  Enzo put his palms together in prayer. "Were you born yesterday, girl?"

  "In terms of being a magus, yes," I cried, and my confident in-control act went up in smoke. If there were other magi - enough for a 'cooperativa' of them - then I had to meet them. If I was stuck with the fire for life, then someone had to show me how to make the most of it. My heart had begun to pound and my palms grew moist and sticky.

  “Tutto posto,” Enzo said, putting a palm out to me in a gesture of 'calm down.' "Go back. Why are you here? Something for Elda."

  I took a deep breath. "Yes, I want you to forgive her debt to you. Leave her and her family alone."

  "I'm not interested in Elda, only in her son. He is the son of someone who meant very much to me." He frowned, “And to my business,” he added as an afterthought.

  "Would you still be interested in him if you knew that he was not a fire magus?"

  "But he is. I have seen the boy. Only magi have eyes like that," Enzo answered.

  Karim appeared, holding a glass of water with ice. Enzo and I stopped talking as Karim bent down, set the glass in front of me, and then left.

  "Not anymore he's not," I said, picking up the water and drinking it all in one gulp. The icy water was like nectar in my throat. I put the cup down on the glass with a clack. "He gave the fire to me."

  There was a loud silence. Enzo didn't react, beyond chewing the inside of a cheek. Then, "It must have been killing him. Nic explained that it is possible but I have not heard of it done."

  I nodded. "He was dying."

  "This is why you don't know the cooperativa. When did this happen?"

  "Only a few weeks ago. I want to take Elda's debt. That's why I'm here."

  "Wait, go back. How did you know Isaia? Why did he give it you?"

  "I came to Venezia as an au pair..." I began.

  He whooped with laughter and slapped his knee. "You are the nanny?!" he bellowed. "This is beautiful. It is like a movie, no?”

  "Au pair."

  "Whatever, whatever." He was still laughing. "I shall send someone to confirm that what you say is true. If the boy no longer has the fire, then you may take on her debt." A bemused expression crossed his face. "I don't know why you would do that. Once we have made an agreement it is unbreakable. I hope you know what you're getting into—"

  I interrupted him, more from nerves than dominance. "This is the part where we talk terms, right?"

  "Giusto." He scratched his chin, amused. Could he hear how loud my heart was beating?

  "When you send someone to confirm that I
saia is no longer a magus, you must call Elda first and set a proper appointment. Don't just show up on her doorstep, you'll give her a heart attack."

  "Certo," he said, looking at me like I was one brain cell from idiocy. “You think we are animals?"

  I barrelled on before I lost my guts. I held up my first two fingers, "Secondly, I owe you a favour, but any costs involved are covered by you, I won't do anything illegal, and you have to understand that I'm not even a legal adult yet. I have a family, parents, to answer to."

  He waved this off. "I do not send children to do my work."

  "Good." I held up three fingers. "And lastly, you get one debt, one favour. Do you understand? Uno."

  His belly shook with silent laughter and he said, "I like you. I am not used to negotiated with a teenager. It's like un... piccolo gioco."

  "This is not a game," I said, and the fire lit my iris’ to a flickering orange.

  "Well, I can see you are not lying," Enzo said, staring into my eyes, smiling and unafraid. “Although, your harsh voice provided evidence, too.”

  "This is my life. I'm not a secret agent, an assassin, or one of your mafioso—"

  I was about to go on when his smile disappeared. "Mafioso? You think we are mafia?"

  I blinked. "Aren't you?"

  "You North Americans think you know so much just because you watch The Godfather, which, for the record, is a beautiful film. But no, we have no part with those devils. I am simply a businessman with long arms."

  I wasn't sure what the difference was. "Okay," I said, "I stand corrected. Either way, don't send a knife to a gun-fight, okay?"

  His offended expression was gone as swiftly as it had come and he laughed heartily. "A knife, or a spoon plastica?" he raised an eyebrow.

  I blushed, and the flames in my pupils sizzled out like he'd thrown a bucket of cold water on me.

  "You were making art from macaroni two years ago," Enzo continued. "What can I trust you with?"

  "Well..." I stumbled, "I can... light things on fire, and stuff." I cringed.

  "But you won't do anything illegal..."

  I wasn't sure what to say to this. What kind of task would he ask of me if I was a magus that wouldn't do anything that was against the law?

  "I am not like Nic—" I began, but stopped. What if I'd put too many restrictions in place? I could lose the deal.

  "Giovanni!" Enzo barked, making me jump.

  Moments later, one of the men I'd seen earlier appeared. Enzo asked him for something. He nodded and disappeared.

  "Tell you what," Enzo said. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "The Baseggios can go on with life for now, non c’é problema. Most likely, I will transfer her debt to you..."

  Most likely? My heart sank.

  Giovanni returned and handed Enzo a small black card. Enzo said, "Per lei, per lei!" pointing to me. Giovanni mechanically swung the card to me.

  I took it. It had the name Basil Chaplin stamped on it in red metallic ink, and a phone number. I turned the card over. On the back was a symbol I recognized - the magus mark. It was embossed into the card, also with red metallic ink.

  "But first," Enzo continued, "you call him. You spend some time with him, " he rotated his hands over each other to indicate the passage of time. "You learn things. Then you come see me. We talk then. I am a patient man. One does not get where I am without patience."

  I fingered the smooth card, and my thumb grazed the name embossed into the soft paper. Hope filled me. To my surprise, I felt a sudden and strong bond with this person, this Basil, though I didn't know him. He was magi. He was my tribe. If I felt this connected to a stranger, how would I feel once I'd met him? I was starting to understand the connection between Isaia and Nic better as my eyes devoured the letters. Basil Chaplin.

  The phone number was European but I didn't recognize the country code. I was going to have to do some serious thinking about what to do next. I was facing my last year of high school, choosing a university, going back home to my family. How was I going to explain this to them? My parents were going to freak out. Should I even tell them? I didn't know how to keep a secret from them anyway, they can read my face like it's an open book. And my voice would probably never go back to normal. I crammed all these thoughts away and tucked the black card into my pocket.

  There was still the matter of Dante.

  "Your son..." I began.

  "You know Dante?" Enzo asked. Was it just my imagination or did his face darken? So Dante hadn't mentioned me.

  "I don't want to get involved with your family stuff, but Dante said he sent men to Gallipoli, to track the Baseggios."

  If his brow had not darkened earlier, it was looking thunderous now. "What did my son do? Did you tell him you are magi?"

  "He knows," I admitted.

  He let out a stream of high-speed Italian which sounded nice to my ears but it was clear that the meaning was not nice. "You leave Dante to me," he growled.

  "Okay," I said. Did I really just tattle on Dante to his dad? Yup. I just did. I shoved the sheepish feeling into the same dusty corner of my brain that I shoved all the other thoughts I'd labeled 'later.'

  "One last thing," he said. "Can you give me your word that you will never use your power to harm me or any of my own, including my employees?”

  I wasn't expecting that. Dante's face flashed in my mind. My thoughts rifled through the possible consequences of telling Enzo what Dante had done. I finally decided that there were no downsides for me, only for Dante.

  "Senior Barberini, your son locked me in a cell without water for I don't know how many hours."

  Enzo's face went still. His eyes bore into mine. After a moment, he said, "Go on." His voice was very different. Dangerous.

  "His intention was to force me to pass my powers to him in exchange for my life."

  He absorbed this, his eyes hard. "But, you didn't. Clearly."

  "No. But I'm ashamed to say I would have. The pain was beyond anything anyone can imagine. I was being burned alive but I was rescued. By your niece Federica, and someone you knew as a boy - Rafaele Dimaro."

  His eyes telegraphed surprise but he didn't say anything for a while. Then, "You survived a burning. Do you know what that means?"

  "My insides are charred beyond all recognition?"

  He ignored my joke. "I know it doesn't look like it, because you were forced against your will, but Dante did you a favour. Magi who survive a burning are far more powerful than those who don't. They have better control, can handle more heat and more energy. They don't have to live with the constant pain. Basil can tell you more about how it works. I don't understand very good. Nic said there are few magi who survive, and most don’t even try to burn. He wanted to do it but I would never allow it."

  My respect for Enzo grew. A burning would have made Nic more powerful, but even though Enzo could have benefited from Nic's increased power, he wouldn't let his employee take the risk.

  "What happened to Nic?"

  His face went flat and his eyes went from open windows to dark doorways filled with regret. "He attempted a burning anyway. He recruited my foolhardy son to give him water at the right time. All magi are different. Some can withstand a burning for twenty-four hours before they die. Dante failed to give him water in time and Nic died. In nine hours."

  I swallowed. Isaia's father had gone through the same thing that I had, only he had burned completely to death. I imagined the blond man from the video clips lying on his back, unable to speak or move while his insides turned to ash. He'd been counting on Dante to administer the healing water at the right time...waiting in agony for help that never came.

  "I'm truly sorry."

  Enzo nodded his thanks. "I am too. Nic was much more than an employee. He was a great friend."

  Raf had said that Enzo had always been disappointed in Dante, even when Dante was young. Nic's death must have been the nail in the coffin of their relationship.

  "So, I guess you can understand my
reticence to swear that I'll never protect myself against a member of your family?"

  Enzo waved his hand. "You have nothing to fear from Dante, anymore. I still need your word. It's required from all of my men, and now... from my lady." The way he said it made me feel like he respected me.

  I didn't have any intention of ever using my power against anyone, but suddenly I had another bargaining chip. "I will give you my word as long as you consider our trade complete. You won't send a man to visit Elda, in fact, you'll not visit her again on this matter."

  He appeared to consider this, then he held out his hand and said, "My word also."

  We shook.

  He kissed both of my cheeks and then put a palm to each and squeezed my face lightly between his warm hands. "Grazie per tutto," he said, looking me straight in the eyes. "Be a good girl, eh?"

  He curled his fingers around the back of my neck and planted a kiss solidly in the middle of my forehead. For a second, I felt like a pre-schooler.

  "Oh," he said. "Tell Rafaele to come visit an old friend once in a while? I miss that boy."

  I smiled. "I will. Although, I think you'll find he's become a man."

  "And a good one, I am sure.” He tipped his index finger toward his forehead.

  As though by magic, Karim appeared from behind the curtain.

  Karim and I didn't speak until we were at the front gate.

  "Well, Saxony Cagney of Saltford on the east coast of Canada. Did you get what you came for?" He held the gate open for me with one hand.

  I stepped onto the street, feeling the little black card in my pocket. "I think... more, actually."

  He gave a nod and a small smile. "Good," he said, and closed the gate.

  Forty

  As soon as the gate closed behind me, I turned toward the Baseggios’ villa. I froze in place and my brain skipped a cog.

  Dante was leaning against the stone wall across from the villa. He had his arms crossed, and those wicked brown eyes were drilling into me from across the calle.

  "What have you done?" His voice was low and dangerous. He sounded a bit like his father. Too bad he had none of Enzo’s integrity. Dante dropped his arms and straightened.