by West, Shay
The two did not speak as they walked to a modest house set back from the water’s edge. He opened the door and led her inside.
“So good to see you again, miss.” A portly male servant escorted Chandler and Alex to the dining room. He shuffled out, leaving Alex alone with the strange young man. It made her feel a little better to see that he was clearly nervous as well. She smiled at him, hoping he would begin a conversation. She was trying to access Anastasia’s brain, trying to remember things about him the way she could about the other men at the manse.
“I was hoping to see you. And I dreaded it as well,” He leaned close to Alex and placed his hand over hers. “This will be our last night together for some time.”
Alex’s throat closed up and she couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say even if she were capable of speech. Beau had never had this effect on her. Alex found it quite exhilarating and distracting.
Chandler sighed. “I know this is shocking for you, but we have known that war is coming. I must answer the call.”
Talk of the coming war and Chandler’s expectations for the evening were cut short by incessant pounding on the door. Chandler frowned, clearly not expecting company. He stood and waited for the servant to bring whoever was at the door into the dining room.
A distraught woman came running into the room. She spotted Alex and it was to her that she ran.
Alex took the woman’s hands when she offered them.
“You must come at once! Veronica’s in trouble.” The woman blurted.
“What kind of trouble?” Alex gripped her hands tight. She was certain that most of the worry she was feeling was coming from Anastasia’s brain and not hers.
“She was taken by the Inquisition.”
Her words sent a shiver of terror running through Alex. She glanced at Chandler, who looked concerned as well. Alex knew what the Inquisition was capable of doing.
Suddenly she frowned. Something wasn’t right.
Alex wracked her brain to figure out why Veronica being taken by the Inquisition felt wrong to her. She knew that in fact the woman had been tried by the Inquisition, accused of witchcraft, after plague ravaged Venice.
Alex sucked in her breath.
Plague.
She turned to the woman. “Has Venice seen the plague?” Her words were clipped and terse. She will think I’m crazy! Anastasia would know if there had been plague.
The woman gave her a strange look. “Not yet. The clergy promises that if we remain true to God, we won’t be touched by the plague.”
Alex whirled, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. What is happening? History told of the trial of Veronica Franco after plague reached Venice. She had been acquitted because of testimony of her life-long friend and patron Domenico Venier and even because of the High Inquisitor himself. Did my arrival change history somehow? Alex brushed that aside.
Regardless of the reason for the historical discrepancy, she needed to save her friend.
She turned to face Chandler. “I need to find Domenico Venier at once. Take me to him.” Alex had no idea what to say to the man but since he was instrumental in saving Veronica from death, she had to find him.
“Wait for us at the church,” Alex told the woman. “Tell no one what you have seen.” She nodded and hurried out.
Chandler and Alex made their way through the Venetian streets, walking quickly, but trying not to act like they were on any important mission. Every instinct Alex possessed told her to act as if nothing was amiss. She even took hold of Chandler’s arm, trying to look as if they were on an evening stroll.
They reached the opulent home of Domenico Venier. The servant recognized Chandler and let them in, asking them to wait in the foyer until she could get her master.
Alex tried to slow her galloping heart, hoping the Inquisition would not decide to put Veronica to death immediately. She wondered if perhaps history had it all wrong. Perhaps the Inquisition had tried the woman more than once. She hoped she was not about to make a devastating blunder that could have repercussions for the future. What harm to the future could come from the death of one courtesan? It’s not like she ruled a country or anything.
A portly gentleman followed the servant back to where Alex and Chandler waited in the foyer. He was wrapped in a large robe with a fur collar, over a cotton shift for sleeping.
“We are sorry to bother you, Mr. Venier, but we need your help.” Alex moved to take his hands in hers, a gesture that seemed natural.
“Anastasia, my dear. What has happened?” Domenico patted her hands, trying to soothe her.
“It’s Veronica. She’s been taken by the Inquisition.”
“It can’t be.” The old man turned away, worry plain on his face. “When was she taken?”
“Only a few hours ago.”
“Return home. I will send someone for you tomorrow.”
Both Chandler and Alex made to protest but the old man held his hand in the air, silencing them. “Do as I say, and do it quickly,” Domenico patted Alex’s cheek. “Trust me, child.”
Alex and Chandler both wondered what the old man could possibly have in mind but neither one felt safe bringing up the subject out on the streets of Venice. Now that the sun had set, people were out taking the evening air, and neither Chandler nor Alex wanted to broach the subject where others could hear.
Chandler walked Alex to her door. She was grateful. In her state of mind, she did not think she could have found Anastasia’s home.
“She will be fine. Domenico won’t let anything happen to her.” Chandler said. He kissed Alex on the forehead. She met his grey eyes and she felt that sense of knowing him more strongly than ever. It was on a level that her crush for Beau couldn’t touch.
Alex fumbled with the door and wished she had Veronica’s confidence around men. She called for the servant that she somehow knew would be waiting to help her with her clothing. When the petite girl asked if she needed anything else, Alex told her no, eager to be alone to think.
Alex went to the mirror. She felt ashamed that she wanted so badly to see her familiar face. She did not want to face the Inquisition.
She was afraid.
When Conor handed her the Book of Kells, things had happened too quickly for her to really think about what she was doing.
She had plenty of time now.
A whole night of it, in fact.
She sat down, stared at the face of Anastasia, and sighed when the image did not shift. I am stuck here until whatever is supposed to happen, happens.
Alex knew she was correct about the timeline. The plague had not hit Venice yet, which meant that Veronica Franco was being taken before the Inquisition years before she was supposed to be.
Why?
Alex cursed her inadequate knowledge of physics. Perhaps if she had taken the time to talk more with Simon about time travel stuff, she could make sense out of this. She did have to admit that her love of history had come in handy so far.
She hoped it was enough to save the life of Veronica Franco.
CHAPTER 12
DRIFTER LAY IN BED, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, a small smile of satisfaction of his face. Things were going according to plan.
Unlike last time.
He felt his body grow tense when he remembered how angry his Master had been at what happened in Ireland. The plan was simple:. Destroy the Book of Kells.
Except that, it had somehow vanished. He had traced it to a young man who had been seen with it, but they had never found him, or the Book.
This time would be different.
This time he would succeed in his quest.
This time no one would interfere.
CHAPTER 13
ALEX AWOKE TO knocking on the door. It took her a few minutes to remember she was in Venice, and her friend and mentor, Veronica Franco, was on trial for her life.
Alex tried to rub the sleep from her eyes as she mumbled for her servant to enter.
“You are to come to the church at once, mis
s.” The servant bustled about the room, opening curtains and stoking the fire. “I will return with some food to break your fast.”
Alex washed her face quickly in the basin, shivering as the cold water ran down her arms. She stood in front of the fire until the tiny girl returned with a tray of bread and cheese. She ate while the servant helped her dress. Alex rolled her eyes when the girl started tightening the laces of the bodice. She gulped down the food, knowing full well that when the girl was finished, she wouldn’t be able to eat a single bite.
She hastily pinned her hair on top of her head and grabbed a shawl to throw about her shoulders. Since the sun had barely risen above the horizon, the air was chilly.
Domenico’s male servant was waiting, ready to escort her to the church. There were only a few people out on the streets this early in the day. Most were servants off to market to bring back fresh food for their masters’ daily meals. Alex wished the old man could walk faster. The slow pace was only setting her nerves on edge, not to mention keeping her from warming up.
Domenico was waiting for her at the entrance to the large stone church. He stood tall and confident, giving Alex a small smile as he took her hand. He led her into the church and through the large double doors leading to the court. The High Inquisitor was already there. He looked at Domenico and turned away quickly. Alex frowned, wondering what that little exchange had been about.
Maybe Domenico has spoken to the Inquisitor. He was also one of the ones responsible for Veronica’s pardon.
Domenico led her to a row of chairs. Alex took a seat, looking around the courtroom anxiously. All around her she could see religious depictions: crucifixes, elaborate paintings, stained glass, even wooden crosses carved into the benches and chairs. Alex fought the urge to cross herself in the Catholic fashion.
A door on the far end of the room opened with a loud creaking, causing Alex to jump out of her skin.
Alex sucked in a breath as she spotted Veronica. Her face was bruised and bloody and she wore only a drab brown shift. There were dark circles under her eyes. Yet she walked with a quiet dignity, head high as she met the eyes of the men sitting at the front of the room. Alex was pleased to see the familiar fire in her eyes.
Domenico patted Alex’s hand as Veronica took a seat in a wooden chair with a tall back positioned right in front of the three men who sat on the dais. All three wore blood red robes with red capes. Their sleeves were trimmed in gold and each wore a large gold cross around his neck.
The High Inquisitor was in the center and his chair was raised higher than the two flanking him. He looked uncomfortable and kept fidgeting. The man on his right nudged him, clearly anxious to begin the proceedings.
The man stood, clearing his throat. Alex could see his hand trembling slightly.
“Veronica Franco, you stand accused of witchcraft. You have been given a full night to repent and return to the light of our Lord. Do you confess your sins, here, in the sight of God and these witnesses?” The High Inquisitor’s voice rang out in the courtroom. There were spots of color in his face.
Veronica had a small smile on her face. “I did not confess while these men beat me. What makes you think I will confess now? I am not a witch. I believe in God our Father and His only Son.” Her soft voice had a hard edge.
A part of Alex wished Veronica would confess and suffer the lashes rather than being purged of her sins in a trial by pain, before being burned at the stake. Another part cheered her on, glad that she was standing up for herself and the truth.
Domenico cleared his throat and made as if to rise. Alex grabbed his hand, certain he was about to go and make everything worse for Veronica.
The High Inquisitor cleared his throat once more and his voice had lost some of its power. “It is the decision of this court that there is no proof of witchcraft and you are therefore free to go.”
The courtroom exploded in a flurry of activity. The men to each side of the High Inquisitor stood, rage evident on their faces, demanding to know what was happening. The people in attendance either cheered for Veronica or demanded another trial.
One man in particular seemed outraged at the verdict. He stood and shouted above the din. “How can you say there is no proof when I have clearly brought you all the proof you need?”
Alex turned to look at the man. She sucked in a breath, feeling as though someone had punched her in the gut. Pure evil poured off the man. This was followed by the blaring thought that this man did not belong here. Alex could not explain where that thought came from but she knew it to be true. It’s the same feeling I had when that Viking questioned me about Conor!
“I have brought you evidence that this woman uses witchcraft to seduce men of honor and valor to get what she wants. How else do you explain her ability to charm even those men of the highest caliber?” The man asked, sounding so convincing.
The High Inquisitor’s face turned even more pale and drawn. “The evidence you brought forth is circumstantial at best, and does not prove that she uses witchcraft. Perhaps the men who choose her for a companion are not as strong as you make them out to be and simply enjoyed the pleasure of her company.”
Domenico had to stifle a giggle behind his hand. Alex was dumbfounded, wondering how he could laugh at a time like this. He turned to Alex and gave her a wink.
Alex suddenly understood.
The High Inquisitor himself had been with Veronica.
That would explain his reluctance to force her to confess her sins. He was afraid she would share carnal knowledge of their liaisons. Somehow, Domenico had known this and had convinced the High Inquisitor to drop the charges, lest Veronica be forced to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth.
The man snarled and pointed a shaking finger at the High Inquisitor. “You are making a grievous error.” He stormed out of the courtroom.
“Who is that man?” Alex asked.
Domenico stared after the man. “I do not recall seeing him before. He seems awfully angry at our Veronica. I wonder if he is someone she spurned and is simply out for revenge.”
Alex thought that it was much more than that but she couldn’t put all of the pieces together. She was a jumble of emotion and found it difficult to stick to one train of thought.
Veronica stood, demeanor calm and serene, and bowed to the Inquisitors. She caught Alex’s eye and gave a wink.
Veronica, Alex, and Domenico left the church and made their way back to Veronica’s home. Veronica held her head high, as if she had not just escaped torture and death by the narrowest of margins. Alex kept an eye out for the man who had been responsible for her arrest but she did not see him. She worried that he would follow them and attempt to kill Veronica once she was alone.
Alex wanted to stay with her, at least for a few days, but Veronica brushed her fears aside. “I don’t know who he was. He is certainly no patron of mine. I have my servants, and Lord Manderly is supposed to be keeping me company this evening so there is no need for either of you to fret.” She patted Domenico’s cheek.
Alex convinced her to at least let her stay until Lord Manderly arrived. Veronica agreed, and Domenico left, promising to find the man and have him watched.
The two women ate lunch on the balcony, enjoying the balmy weather and the sun glistening on the water. Veronica recited some of her latest poems, confessing to Alex that she hoped to have them published one day.
Alex smiled knowingly. “I know they will be. Your poems are a marvel and people will read them long after we have turned to dust.” Alex did indeed know that her poetry would be published as well as two sonnets addressed to King Henry III of France.
Veronica insisted that her male servant walk Alex back to her own place. Veronica hugged Alex and thanked her for being there to support her.
Alex could barely keep her eyes open. She was glad the servant was there to walk her home and to lend a steady hand. The man probably thinks I am drunk or something. She fumbled with the door and thanked the man for escorting her home.
>
As if moving in a dream, Alex walked over to the mirror. The reflection shifted and she was looking at her own face, with the bathroom in the background. She reached out her hand and touched the mirror, feeling the familiar agony before she blacked out.
CHAPTER 14
“ALEX! COME ON, wake up!”
Alex shuddered and hit the floor, missing hitting her head on the sink by mere inches. She sucked in air through a throat that felt too tight. She opened her eyes to find Jennifer staring at her, panic and worry evident on her face.
“I’m going to get your mom…” Jennifer tried to stand but Alex caught her wrist in a death grip.
“Don’t,” Alex sat up slowly, keeping her hold on Jennifer’s arm. “I’m all right.”
“Alex, you’re not all right! When I came in here you were staring at the mirror. I touched your arm…” Jennifer’s brown eyes were saucers in her pale face. “You were ice cold. Like you were dead.” Her breath hitched, as if she was about to break into sobs any second.
“Please, Jenn. I am fine now. And clearly not dead.” Alex groaned and managed to stand.
“Alex, something happened. It is not normal for people to be cold like that!” Jennifer stood in the door of the bathroom, arms crossed over her chest, a terrified yet stubborn look on her face.
Alex’s heart thumped hard in her chest. How long was I gone this time? She did not want to tell Jennifer what was happening to her. She will think I am completely crazy and she will never speak to me again.
“Trust me. I’m fine. I’m always cold.” Alex thought the excuse sounded pretty lame but it was the best she could come up with.
“I might not be as smart as you, Alex, but I am not stupid either,” Jennifer had angry spots of color in her cheeks. “If you don’t want to tell me, fine. But don’t treat me like I’m an idiot.”
“Jenn…” Alex began.
“Do you want me to tell everyone the party is over?” Jennifer’s voice was cool, and the hurt evident on her face.
Alex stared at her helplessly. She could see Jennifer was hurt and she knew what it had taken for her and the others to come to her house after the way she had acted. She bit her lip, and wished she knew what to do. It would be so easy to blurt out that she had in fact been in Venice chilling with Veronica Franco and had to save her from being burned at the stake.