“The original design may not function, but you can modify it.”
“I would if I could read it, but the alphabet is strange. I never saw anything like it.”
“Really?” Leonardo's mouth twitched with a half giggle. “It's a secret code. See if you can unlock it.”
“A code?”
“Yes. Tee hee.”
Alex smoothed the armored car diagram on the table and leaned closer. At first, it looked like Arabic with the paragraphs indented at the right and the swooping letters backwards, but for him, the direction of writing made sense. Being left-handed, he'd always thought that starting from the left and writing to the right was stupid. He had to twist his arm around in an awkward position to keep from smudging his letters. If writing were reversed, he wouldn't have to exert such effort. “It's all backwards!” Alex cried, slapping his hand on the table. “Every single letter.” He held up the parchment, and his mind immediately reversed the letters. Although it was in Italian, he could read it perfectly.
Leonardo grinned. “My creator wrote backwards because he was afraid others would steal his ideas. Most need a mirror to read my writing.”
“Aww.” Alex blushed slightly. “It's just because I'm a lefty.”
“As am I. In actuality, I'm ambidextrous. When you can draw with both hands, it opens up so many possibilities.”
Just then, Gwen burst into the room. “Venice. Dead ahead!”
Knocking over the bench, Alex sprang up and dashed to the ship's bow. He grabbed the railing as the front of their caravel rose and fell toward two small islands skirted by stone walls. Within them, bell towers jutted like dual torches.
After passing through the narrow strait, they sailed into a large bay filled with all kinds of boats. Hansa cogs, Venetian galleys, merchant ships, and even a few caravels like theirs bobbed in the cove. Some sails flapped like unfurled flags while others were tied tightly to masts. Rowboats and dinghies ferried people to and fro everywhere.
“It's beautiful,” Gwen said.
For the first time during this trip, Alex completely forgot everything he was supposed to do. He didn't think about designing weapons or how to protect Gwen and Bartholomew. Even his guilt over making Mom cry evaporated with the morning haze.
Across the water was a floating city. Amazing. Canals crisscrossed under stone bridges. Lanterns, buildings, and ships reflected in the rippling waters. What awesome colors! There were burnt orange tile roofs, feathery yellow houses, and white window casings. Carnation red and summer peach brick walls mingled with water-stained buildings. A dusky rose bell tower stood over them all, while several silvery domes bowed reverently at its side.
As they sailed closer, more details came into view. The domes were attached to a Gothic palace with a pink and white checked wall. “Look at all those arches,” Alex gasped, staring at the bottom two floors.
“I think those are cool,” Gwen said, lifting her chin toward the inverted smile windows.
Alex agreed.
The statue of a woman with a sword in hand stood on the center balcony. She lifted her blade skyward. “Just and strong, I am enthroned!”
“She is Justice, one of the Venetian symbols,” Leonardo said as he strolled to them.
“Maybe she can help us find the pirates,” Alex replied, his thoughts returning to their work.
“I don't see how.” Gwen crossed her arms. “Half of the boats look exactly like the pirate ship. We'll have to search hundreds to find the right one.”
Alex almost told her his thoughts. You won't have to worry about that since you aren't going anywhere near them.“She's right,” he said to Leonardo. “How will we find the Barbarossa brothers in all that?”
“Many will be needed. We must—”
Leonardo's words were cut short by a blustering Michelangelo. “Does no one pay attention to the captain? I said drop anchor!”
Everyone got to work. Some lowered the anchor by its heavy chain while others unfurled sails and rolled them. Alex helped tie down the canvas with the knots he was proud to have mastered these past few days. He fashioned half-hitches, a few bowlines, and a square knot or two to secure the rigging.
Once done, Alex trotted to the captain's cabin to gather the sketches he'd been working on. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see the aged Leonardo there. “How did you get—?” he asked the bearded artist.
“It was needed,” Leonardo said as if that explained everything.
Deciding that this must be an Artanian quirk, Alex shrugged. Anyhow he had a more pressing question to ask. “Leonardo?” he began.
“Yes?”
“Do you know of a jail?” He held his breath.
“Why?”
“I-I—” His tight chest made it hard to speak.
“What is it?'
“I-I need to lock Gwen and Bartholomew in it for a while,” he finally blurted.
“But they are your friends.”
“Exactly. And I need to keep them safe.”
Leonardo looked at him quizzically. “Have you thought this through? You know the prophecy. Hope will lie in the hands of twins. You must work with the other to undo the evil.”
“We've already done that. And Bartholomew—” No words came to describe his tortured friend.
“The other Deliverer remains in bed?”
“He hasn't moved since we rescued him.”
“I see. But the girl, she is strong,” Leonardo argued. “I have seen her in battle.”
“She's not an artist. She's here by mistake.”
“I will see what I can do, but remember that an artist needs to be part of humanity to create. Detachment is not true art.”
Alex didn't know what Leonardo was talking about. He wasn't detached at all. His problem was he cared too much. He couldn't stand to see his friends face another battle.
No, he'd find a safe place for them both and go on alone. It was time to drop into the half-pipe, and he'd ride it without the constant distraction of having to worry about his buds.
It was the only way.
First, though, he needed to get Bartholomew out of bed.
Chapter 50
Gwen tapped her foot on the wooden floor of the rowboat. All this silence was making her jumpy, reminding her of how she'd felt at Speedy Mart a few weeks back. One minute she'd been teasing Zach about too much hair gel. The next, she was as unsteady as a newbie skater. Splashed across the cover of Fashion was Rochelle. The jade green eyes Gwen'd inherited winked playfully from the magazine rack, which made no sense since Mom was about as playful as a robot.
Making some excuse, Gwen sent Zach ahead before buying the issue for the secret scrapbook she kept under her bed. Later as she thumbed through the pages, Gwen imagined what it would have been like if she'd been with Mom during the Italian shoot. They could have fed the pigeons in St. Mark's Square, eaten frozen gelato, and maybe even gone on a gondola ride.
Gwen's nose twitched. As if that would ever happen.
She looked at Alex and then Bartholomew. These quiet koalas could at least pretend. Gwen pointed. “Check out the bridges! Bet you could totally get air skating over those.”
She waited for Alex to reply, but he remained strangely silent. What was up with him? Not that he was a chatterbox—more the strong-keep-your-mouth-closed-until-you-have-something-to-say type—but he usually responded if she spoke to him.
Michelangelo grumbled something about a child's place as he tied the bobbing boat to a post. Turning away, Gwen made a face before glancing up at two freestanding columns.
Each was about fifty feet tall with a different statue on top. The man on a crocodile bowed reverently at them while the winged lion on the other raised a stone paw.
At least somebody appreciates my being here, Gwen thought, waving back.
She glanced through the goalpost-like columns into St. Mark's Square. All kinds of people cruised around. Dark-skinned men in turbans, blonde ladies in long gowns, and teenagers in hose and tunics. She
imagined how funny Zack would look in one of those outfits. Mr.GQ in tights—yeah, right.
“Venice, or Venizia as we call it, is a cosmopolitan city,” said Michelangelo, volunteering information for once. “With traders and immigrants from all over the Renaissance nation, it is a hub for the exchange of goods. Here we have spices, gems and carpets from the exotic east, wool, silver, and tin from northern Europe, along with fur, grains, and workers from the Black Sea. Venice is the pride of our nation, a city to admire and respect.” He gave Gwen a long stare. “Not babble on about.”
Gwen rolled her eyes. Arghh! Even when he was being a tour guide, Michelangelo had to be a jerk. How she wanted to tell him off, but he was such a grump that he might dump her in the lagoon if she complained.
Alex glanced right and left, his shoulders twitching as if he expected a hive of bees to attack at any minute. Only after turning each direction four times did he finally put out a hand to help Gwen and Bartholomew out of the rowboat.
“You okay?” Gwen asked, wondering if Alex sensed monsters nearby, but he turned away and followed Michelangelo toward the brick tower at the far end of the piazza. A shuffling Bartholomew followed in a daze behind the rest of them.
“I could shake them both,” Gwen muttered under her breath as the gods and goddesses they'd met on Mt. Olympus shouted hello.
Most seemed friendly enough, but a wary Hera with her peacock under one arm stood to the side glaring at her husband. Gwen could see why. Zeus had already strolled to a pretty Italian woman and was smiling broadly as he showed her his pet eagle.
Gwen shook her head. Poor Hera. At least her Dad wasn't like that. She remembered back when her parents were still married. Dad only had eyes for Rochelle. Not that it made any difference. Mom's glittering eyes were focused on stardom.
Everyone from the ship was milling about, too. Venus and the Muses twittered away with an armor-clad god about their adventures on the ship. Leonardo was deep in conversation with a young god who wore a winged hat and sandals. What was his name? Oh, yeah—Hermes.
She expected Alex to join in with the friendly reunion, but her bud stood apart. Body tense, he surveyed the group as if sizing each person up. When Alex's gaze fell upon Mr. Clean standing zombie-like in the middle of the crowd, his expression softened.
“This way!” Zeus waved them toward the Doge's palace. Everyone followed him toward a great door topped with another winged lion. The cat flapped its wings, and the dark doors opened as if by magic. Their party passed through a series of vast halls and up a richly-decorated staircase that made Bartholomew's mansion look like a shack.
They finally entered a room with rows of chairs facing two of the hugest globes Gwen had ever seen. The rotating spheres with tan maps were twice her height and looked like something you'd see in an antique store.
When everyone took their seats, Zeus strode to the front of the room and gave the giant globes a spin. As they whirled, each glowed. One gyrating sphere projected a starry sky on the ceiling, while the other flashed multiple views of Italian-looking cities.
“Friends.” Zeus's voice was rich and deep as he pointed at the twinkly display. “As you know, the Barbarossa brothers have kidnapped Mona Lisa and are planning to hand her over to the Shadow Swine.”
“Beasts!” Michelangelo stomped his foot.
“Of the worst kind.” Zeus gave a curt nod. “However, the time for words is over. What we need now is a strategy. They obviously plan to open some sort of portal to Subterranea below. We need to stop them before it happens.”
“Or the Smiling One will become a Mudlark,” Michelangelo added.
There were scattered murmurs and gasps. Gwen shuddered, imagining how horrible it would be become one of those zombies.
“If she falls, so does this land,” Hera said, giving the peacock in her lap a quick hug. “Our country will be bled white … never again to shine with the glory of paint, fresco, or mosaic.”
Fearful whispers filled the room. Gwen glanced around. She hadn't realized how important rescuing Mona Lisa was until then. It wouldn't only break Leonardo's heart, this beautiful place would disappear. Man! She could see why everyone wanted to find her so badly.
“Fear not, brethren.” Venus said. “She still is one of us. I can sense her nearness.”
“She's here?” Leonardo's eyes brightened.
“Within two miles,” Venus replied. “But her exact location eludes me.”
Zeus placed a hand atop one globe, and a funnel of light cast a hologram of Venice in front of the god. He held out both hands as if cradling the hologram, then lifted the flickering image higher. The 3-D movie stretched. “Apollo, take your chariot above the city. Fly over every waterway, canal, and bridge.” Zeus pointed at places on the spectral film then turned back to the assembled company. “Hermes, Venus, and Mars, go with him.”
A god with a winged hat and sandals and another steel-helmeted one with chest armor immediately stood. They marched to the back of the room, followed by Apollo and Venus. Then all four exited.
Zeus snapped his fingers and the projection disappeared. He waved Leonardo and Michelangelo forward. The two older men elbowed each other in a race to the front of the room. Michelangelo started to speak but Leonardo cut him off.
With a triumphant look, Leonardo pulled out a thick roll of parchment from the folds of his robe. “The young Deliverer and I have designed new weapons. We will build them immediately.”
Michelangelo sighed and rolled his eyes. “You should inventory what we have first before wasting time making new ones.”
Gwen was sure that Leonardo would tell Michelangelo where to stick his ideas. They had some sort of crazy competition going, but she was surprised to see him put his feelings aside. “Fine!” Leonardo threw his shoulders back haughtily. “Then I shall inspect the armory.”
“No, I will. It must be done correctly,” Michelangelo said with a sly grin. “You may accompany me if you wish.”
“Accompany you? Ha. I think I can manage alone.”
“Oh, you've managed things well up till now, haven't you?” Michelangelo accused.
Leonardo flipped his long beard back and forth in one hand, reminding Gwen of her cat, Humphrey, flicking his tail. “What are you saying?”
“If I'd been in charge, we wouldn't be here in the first place.” Michelangelo crossed his arms and gave Leonardo a condescending look.
“It seems to me that you helped design the fortress,” Leonardo retorted. “If you are so perfect, then why was she captured, mmm?”
“No, it was because your ideas were also put into play.”
Leonardo stepped closer to Michelangelo and slapped him with his beard. “I should throttle you, you arrogant—”
Zeus stepped between the arguing men and pushed them apart. “We have no time for petty rivalries. You two, take the humans. Everyone else, search the canals. Beware. Spies are everywhere.”
“If any of you see the Red Raven, send out the alarm,” Hera added. “Ring the Campanile bell thirteen times, and all will gather there.”
Zeus nodded and clapped his hands once. “Now go.”
People scattered in all directions, leaving Gwen and Bartholomew with Alex, Leonardo, and Michelangelo.
“To the armory. Come.” Without waiting for a reply, Michelangelo marched into the passageway.
When they reached a storeroom filled with weapons, Gwen saw a suit of armor she'd love to try on. There were swords, battle axes, a few bayonets, and crossbows like the one she'd used to hit the fish.
Without a word, Leonardo and a frowning Alex strolled headed straight for an old table. They whispered and shot glances back at Gwen. What were they murmuring about? She tried to get Bartholomew's attention, but Mr. Clean just kept staring off into space.
“Okay then. Umm. Well … let's get going,” Alex said with atypical nervousness. “We need to go to the shipyard. Right Leonardo?”
“Yes. The shortest way is across the Bridge of Sighs.” Leonardo
laid a gnarled hand on Alex's arm. “Are you sure you want to take that route?”
“You know I have to,” Alex nodded sadly.
As soon as she took a step after them, Gwen got a tingly feeling at the nape of her neck. Pins and needles prickled down her spine, but still she followed along.
Later, she'd regret it. Because if she'd known where they were going, she would have run as fast as she could.
In the opposite direction.
Chapter 51
A miserable Alex followed Leonardo down to the Bridge of Sighs and almost stopped at the exit. Afraid his guilty face would betray him, he pretended to be interested in the covered bridge. He pointed out the lattice windows until he noticed how their shadows resembled a tic-tac-toe game.
Alex always lost at tic-tac-toe.
A wailing wind severed the silence. For centuries, condemned men and women walked over this Bridge. Alex halted mid-step imagining their mournful cries.
“Not exactly the Ritz, huh?” Gwen remarked.
“No,” came Leonardo's stiff reply. “This place is for guests of another sort.”
Alex shot Gwen a quick glance, afraid Leonardo would make her suspicious, but she seemed oblivious. “So what do you want me to do while you build all this stuff?” Gwen asked stepping down onto a sunny courtyard. “You know I'm not an artist.”
“Worry not, young one. We have hands enough.”
“You know I'm pretty good with a crossbow.”
Alex squinted in the harsh sunlight. She really is. Then he remembered her wide eyes during the Leviathan attack. He never wanted to see that terrified look again.
They passed a rosy colored wellhead where the wooden door loomed. The white sun beat down upon him like an accusing eye. Should he turn back?
“Look! There are bars on all those windows. I thought this was a good neighborhood.” Gwen chuckled at her own joke.
They're going to hate me for this.
“This is the quickest way.” Leonardo turned to Alex. “However, we still can take the longer, more difficult route if you prefer.”
Alex almost agreed. Then Bartholomew shuffled past, eyes glassy and distant, hunched over like a war refugee. Alex's throat tightened. “No, this way is best.”
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