by Imogen Rossi
Bianca herself took a deep breath of the cool night air and reached out to touch the stone. It felt rough and real.
Finally I’m home.
Chapter Twelve
‘Oof!’ Marco groaned, stumbling over a crack in the pavement. ‘Bianca, how come you can see so well?’
‘I’m not sure. Maybe because my parents were from here,’ Bianca said, stopping to let him catch up. While Marco focused intently on the space two steps ahead of him, Bianca gazed at the magnificent buildings lining the canals: towers of cobbled black stone and twisting towers, flecked with colour. She ran over the plan she had been devising in her head – if you could call it a plan. It was certainly very simple. And risky. But Bianca knew she would do anything it took to find her mother.
They continued walking along a canal street, the black water gurgling gently beside them. Even though she had been here in her dreams, the place definitely felt more real to Bianca now. She could feel the cold air coming up off the canal and smell the oily, wet-wood smells of the boats gliding along its surface.
The city was quiet … even tense: why hadn’t they come across anyone yet? From the candles in the windows it was clear people lived here. They must be either indoors or congregating somewhere else in the city. Or maybe they’re hiding from something. Finding her mother might not be as easy as she had thought. Marco said his eyes had adjusted enough for him to mostly see where he was going, but he was clearly still having trouble. He stopped under a thunder-lamp and gazed up at it. ‘It’s like lightning! But how come it casts so little light?’
‘Maybe they make it dimmer so it doesn’t melt the glass,’ Bianca replied absently. Her eyes darted ahead to a maze of dark alleys: she could see a few figures dressed all in black passing along them now.
Bianca felt herself drawn on, quickening her pace now Marco could keep up. The reflections of the hundreds of candles in the windows of the buildings glittered in the water and onto the streets ahead as if guiding her. She had only been here once before, in her dreams, but it was as if she sensed the way she needed to go, like a powerful force was pulling her towards the castle.
She became aware that Marco was a way behind again and paced back to take his hand. His breaths were ragged and quick and his palms were sweaty.
‘It’s so quiet,’ he said. ‘It’s like the darkness swallows the sound.’
‘I think that’s just how it is here,’ Bianca replied, pulling him forward onto a narrow bridge. She noticed two men coming towards them from the other side. They were wearing almost matching clothes, except that the linings of their cloaks were different – one bright red, one bright green.
‘I wonder why they only wear those little bits of colour?’ Marco whispered.
‘Everyone here dresses like that. Why don’t people in La Luminosa wear black, apart from priests and doctors?’ Bianca said.
Marco shrugged, but then gave her a panicked look. ‘Look how we’re dressed – it’s obvious we’re not from this place.’
‘Just act normal,’ Bianca whispered back.
Marco stared wide-eyed around him. ‘Normal?’
The two men passed by; their conversation cut off as their eyes switched to Bianca and Marco, surveying them with interest. She heard Marco hold his breath … but then the men were walking away behind them.
Marco let out a soft whistle. ‘They didn’t like the look of us. Maybe we sh—’
His words fell away as the black stone figure of di Lombardi rose into the dim sky ahead of them. His eyes flicked from the statue to Bianca and then back again. ‘Is that … ?’
Bianca grinned. ‘Annunzio di Lombardi.’
‘He looks so young. He must have been an important artist here too. Very important. That stone. It’s like black marble or something … it’s amazing.’
‘Just you wait,’ said Bianca.
She led them on now, recognising the route from her dream. We’re almost at the castle, she realised, unable to stop the image of her dramatic return entering her head. It just sounded wrong: Bianca, Princess of Oscurita …
The market where Bianca had stolen the fruit in her dream came into sight. Marco listed the stalls’ exotic wares as if hypnotised: ‘Black jewellery, books, birds, furry fruit, some kind of lute.’
Bianca grabbed Marco and turned her face away as she passed two armoured guards – they might still be looking for her.
Exiting the market, she stopped and pointed down a wide avenue, and was gratified to hear Marco’s intake of breath as he looked up and saw the Castle of Oscurita.
‘We’re here,’ she told him.
‘I can’t make out where it ends,’ he said. ‘It’s like it goes all the way up into the clouds!’ He squinted at the gate. ‘But I can see guards. And they’re all holding very pointy sticks. With shiny bits on the end.’
‘Spears,’ Bianca confirmed. ‘And swords.’
‘So how’re we going to get in and find this Duchess?’
‘Just follow my lead,’ she said, taking his elbow and pulling him down the avenue, heading for the main bridge over the canal.
Marco groaned. ‘If you’re not telling me what it is, it can’t be good.’
‘Trust me.’
‘Oh, right. So much better.’
If her plan was to work, she had to act confident. She puffed out her chest and marched them onto the bridge and right up to the guards. They looked down at her from underneath glinting silver helmets that tapered to a point with the same etched swirling patterns on their sides as the guards’ breastplates.
‘Have you a royal invitation?’ one of them grumbled.
‘No,’ said Bianca. ‘But –’
‘Pfft.’ The guard turned to his companion. ‘Urchins.’
‘No pass, no entrance to the castle,’ said the other guard. ‘What’re you two selling, eh?’
‘Nothing. I’m bringing something back.’
The guard pushed her by the shoulder, firmly turning her around. ‘You’ve tried your luck and failed. Now, go on with you.’
She ducked under him and spun around to face the gates again. ‘But I really –’ she started, but the guard put his face close up to hers.
‘Clear off,’ he said. ‘You’re making me angry!’
‘Bianca,’ Marco whispered beside her. ‘Maybe we should just –’
‘No!’ she yelled, trying her best to sound like Duchess Catriona. ‘I have something for the Duchess and if these two idiots don’t take me there this instant … ’ She tailed off as she realised she had no threat to back it up.
The guards thrust their spears forward, the sharp blades digging into the flesh on her neck. ‘I’m warning you,’ one of them said. ‘No one will miss a pair of street rats if we decide to throw you both in the canal.’
Marco backed off but Bianca remained where she was, ignoring the pressure of the spear against her skin. She said nothing as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the silver bracelet, holding it up so it shone in the light from the thunder-lamps.
The first guard glared at them. ‘Do you think you can bribe us with that piece of tat?’
But the second guard elbowed him in the breastplate with a clatter. ‘That belongs to the Duchess! It was stolen by some raggedy girl a few days ago!’
Both guards turned their stares on Bianca.
‘Bianca,’ muttered Marco, tugging at her sleeve. ‘I want to –’
‘I want to return it,’ said Bianca, keeping her voice steady and calm. ‘I need to speak to the Duchess.’
‘Thief!’ snapped one of the guards, and he grabbed Bianca’s wrist.
‘Bianca!’ Marco yelped, as the other guard seized his arm.
‘You’re both under arrest,’ he said.
The guards dragged them in through the castle gate. ‘It’s fine,’ Bianca murmured to Marco. ‘It’s part of the plan!’
‘It’d better be,’ Marco hissed back.
Bianca’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of the courtyard, with i
ts dark grey stones and dim doorways, its guards and servants milling around and its black banners fluttering from the walls. She realised with a shudder of dread that the guards must be taking them to the dungeons – and what if Filpepi and the Duke discovered her there before her mother did? They would waste no time in disposing of them. She had to get herself and Marco out of this.
She dug in her heels and shouted, at the top of her lungs, ‘I must see the Duchess! She’s in terrible danger!’
‘Shut up!’ yelled the guard.
‘The Duchess needs to speak to me! She’s in mortal danger.’
The servants in the courtyard turned and looked at her. Some put down their baskets and whispered to each other.
‘We’ve come to warn the Duchess!’ Marco’s voice joined Bianca’s. ‘She’s trusting the wrong people! We have to see her!’
Yes, that’s it! Get their attention! Bianca grinned at Marco and went on shouting and pulling away from the guards. ‘Please, the Duchess must see me!’
Soon everyone in the courtyard was staring at them. A crowd started to gather around the doorways and along the balcony that circled the courtyard. But some of them moved away once they caught sight of the youngsters, bored of the spectacle.
‘Keep shouting,’ Bianca said to Marco. ‘We need to make a scene!’
‘They can shout themselves hoarse in the cells,’ one guard said, but he had to raise his voice to be heard over their cries, which only made the racket worse.
Bianca was starting to feel desperate. She had been so caught up in the idea of being reunited with her mother that she had rushed into things. ‘Please, there’s a traitor in the castle! Something terrible might happen if we don’t talk to the Duchess!’
‘Shut up, shut up!’ The guard pushed her onwards towards the dungeons. Bianca tried to struggle; she needed to draw attention to herself as long as possible. But it was no use. The guard was strong, heaving her onwards. Tears rolled down her cheeks: she would never meet her mother; she would never fulfil the fate di Lombardi wanted for her.
As they entered the castle Bianca made one final desperate lurch, kicking the guard in the shins. Shaking him off, she ran back into the courtyard. But almost immediately the guard caught up with her, spinning her round, a look of fury etched across his face. He raised his hand to slap Bianca and she flinched away, squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the blow.
‘Wait!’
The slap didn’t come, and Bianca dared to open her eyes a tiny bit.
A pathway had cleared through the middle of the crowd. The servants and courtiers bowed as a dark-haired woman in a beautiful dark green dress passed them. It was the woman Bianca had seen in her sleepwalking visit. She wore a glittering silver tiara that shone on her forehead like a star that had fallen to earth. She was flanked by a group of tall men and women in long, sweeping dresses and robes.
‘Duchess!’ Bianca cried, and wriggled out of the surprised guard’s hold to drop to her knees. Marco followed suit. ‘Forgive me, but I have to speak to you!’
‘Duchess Edita,’ the guard said. ‘Your Highness, please ignore these prisoners. They’re simple thieves, just trying to get out of being taken to the dungeon.’
‘I’ll decide what they are, sergeant,’ said Duchess Edita. Bianca looked up and met the woman’s eyes. The Duchess walked slowly forward. ‘What exactly do two thieves think I need to know so desperately?’
Bianca took a deep breath. ‘My Lady, if you’ll permit me, it’s a bit of a long story.’
‘Then shorten it,’ said the Duchess.
Bianca’s heart beat out a nervous rhythm as she spoke. ‘Well … my friend and I come from a city called La Luminosa, a long way away.’
There was a flicker of something – Bianca didn’t know what – on the Duchess’s face when Bianca mentioned La Luminosa. Had the Duchess heard of it?
‘I grew up in La Luminosa, but I recently discovered that I’m really from here … That is, my mother was. I was taken away from here as a baby. I was adopted by a man named Annunzio di Lombardi.’
There was a ripple of surprise and consternation among the Duchess’s entourage. She held up her hand and they fell silent.
‘Annunzio di Lombardi was a great man of Oscurita,’ the Duchess Edita said slowly.
‘In La Luminosa he was known as a great artist,’ Bianca said. ‘He brought me up as his apprentice, but he told me I’d been a foundling. I only discovered the truth when he died.’
Another gasp, louder this time, echoed around the courtyard.
‘He is dead?’ asked the Duchess, her voice perfectly level.
‘Poisoned,’ said Marco. ‘By traitors who tried to steal our Duchess’s crown.’
‘He left me a black medallion, and a letter that explained that my mother was from Oscurita,’ said Bianca.
‘A medallion?’ said the Duchess. Her eyes were wide and dark.
‘Yes, Your Highness. And, you see … ’ Bianca swallowed. It’s all or nothing, now. ‘I think my mother … might be you.’ Bianca climbed slowly to her feet. She tried to steady her trembling hands as she met the gaze of the Duchess of Oscurita. ‘Please, did you give a child to Annunzio di Lombardi to hide away, twelve years ago?’
‘How dare you?’ the guard yelled. He raised his spear. ‘Your Highness, let me teach this insolent thief a lesson!’
‘What is she accused of stealing?’ the Duchess asked. There was a tremor in her voice. Bianca’s heart beat wildly.
‘This, Your Highness,’ said the other guard. He moved forward and handed the small silver bracelet to the Duchess with a low bow.
Duchess Edita took it from him, turning it over and over between her fingers. She looked at the bracelet, then looked at Bianca. Then her delicate hands flew to her mouth and her expression melted. Her hands dropped to reveal a soft smile.
‘You may release them, sergeant. This girl is no thief.’
Bianca could hardly breathe. She met the Duchess’s eyes and felt her own start to well with tears.
‘But Your Highness, the bracelet –’
‘Belongs to her,’ said Edita. Behind her, the courtiers broke out into unrestrained chatter. ‘This bracelet is all I had left of my daughter. But now I have her back … The lost Lady Bianca.’
Bianca’s eyes filled with tears and the Duchess’s face swam in front of her. ‘Mother?’ she whispered.
Edita took Bianca’s hands in hers. ‘My darling Bianca, can it really be you? Let me look at you.’ She stroked a strand of hair back from Bianca’s face. ‘I can’t believe it. After all this time. And Annunzio is dead … ’
Bianca couldn’t speak, so she nodded.
‘She has returned at last,’ Edita cried, spinning Bianca around to face the courtiers. ‘My daughter, Bianca!’ called Edita. ‘The future Duchess of Oscurita!’
Bianca’s knees turned to jelly, and she stumbled backwards, but a pair of strong arms caught and held her.
Duchess Edita dropped to her knees in a pool of spreading green silk and pulled Bianca into a tearful embrace. Bianca threw her arms around her mother’s neck and held her so tightly she thought she would never, ever let go.
Chapter Thirteen
Bianca shifted on the garden bench, digging her fingers under the tightly laced corset of her gown, trying to find the place beneath her left arm where it kept poking her. If she could just work out which bit of it was the culprit, she might be able to tuck some of the fabric between it and her as a cushion. It wasn’t as if this dress didn’t have plenty of fabric to go around – she felt slightly lost in its deep blue oceans of silk and mountains of silver lace.
‘Lady Bianca, please,’ said Lady Margherita. ‘You must not fidget so.’
‘Sorry,’ said Bianca.
Beside her, Marco heaved a deep sigh and Lady Margherita shot him a glance of pure disdain.
Marco was looking almost as fancy as Bianca was, in a high-necked doublet of black on black on black. But she knew that even if her dress was
horribly uncomfortable, she looked pretty amazing, whereas Marco just looked ill. The stiff black cloth didn’t suit him at all, and the artificial lighting of Oscurita wasn’t doing him any favours – his healthy brown skin glowed in the sunlight of La Luminosa, but after two days in Oscurita it looked sallow and dull.
Bianca tried to sit back and enjoy the little garden that came with her new suite of rooms in the Castle of Oscurita. It really was a wonderful place, crowded with statues of sprites and trickling fountains and strange plants she’d never seen before. An arbour covered in black ivy with bright pink flowers curved over the bench where she and Marco were sitting, and all around the walls lux aurumque flowers grew in beds full of shifting, flickering light.
It was one of the most beautiful places Bianca had ever been. It was just a shame that she was so bored.
She reached out a hand and turned the head of a lux aurumque flower towards her, watching the way the shadows swayed as she moved it.
Making magical paints had been one of the most thrilling accomplishments in her life. A secret only she knew. A thought – instant and unwelcome – came into her head about the apprentices she’d left behind. Had her apprentices run out of magical paint yet? Would the studio still be running? Would the apprentices be worried about her?
Doubt it, Bianca thought bitterly. They don’t need me.
‘Bianca, put that down! You’ll dirty your hands.’
Bianca looked at the stain the lux aurumque petals had left on her fingertips.
Lady Margherita snapped, ‘You are a lady, not a gardener!’
Bianca frowned at Lady Margherita. She was an older lady who’d been assigned as Bianca’s chaperone. Bianca wasn’t sure what a chaperone was supposed to do, but so far they’d been in Oscurita for two days and all Lady Margherita had done was correct her behaviour, her posture and her speech, glare at Marco as if he was some kind of peasant rogue who might kidnap Bianca at any minute, and above all make sure that Bianca never actually did anything interesting. She dressed all in black, without a hint of colour anywhere on her, including in her ghostly-pale skin.