Mask of Aribella

by Anna Hoghton

  ‘I should have stopped them taking Papa,’ Aribella sobbed. ‘I should have made them take me instead.’

  Theo shook his head. ‘You couldn’t save him, Ari. Gian put both your names in the Lion’s Mouth. And if you’re caught, what use would you be to your papa?’

  ‘What use can I be to him now?’

  ‘You can go to see the Doge. Try to explain. He’s a kind man, I’m sure he’ll—’

  ‘What? Understand?’ Aribella snapped. She hated her bitter tone but it all felt so hopeless. How could she possibly explain to the Doge what she didn’t understand herself? She sighed. ‘Sorry, Theo.’

  ‘It’s all right.’

  ‘It’s not. Thanks for coming to help.’ She looked up again at the ominous red moon, and shuddered.

  ‘The moon, Theo . . . It’s the blood moon. Gian was right.’

  Theo looked up and chewed his lip. ‘Guess there’s a first time for everything.’

  Aribella didn’t smile. ‘You should get away, Theo,’ she whispered. ‘You’re too kind to me and it’s dangerous for you.’

  ‘Rubbish, Ari.’

  ‘But what if I am a curse? Was Gian right about that too?’

  ‘Look, so what if the moon is red?’ Theo said. ‘Do you honestly believe it’s an omen of the dead rising?’

  Aribella shook her head. ‘I don’t know . . .’ She didn’t know what to believe any more. She turned away from Theo and crawled back across the roof, sliding in through the window.

  Her room looked the same as she had left it, but downstairs was another matter. The door was hanging off its hinges, splintered and broken. The fire had been trodden out and the few possessions Papa owned were scattered everywhere, mostly smashed to pieces – bowls, plates, glasses . . . His beautiful lace had been torn to shreds. Aribella sank to her knees.

  A meow came from the doorway.

  ‘Luna!’ The cat jumped into her arms, and buried her face in Aribella’s chest, as if she knew how much Aribella’s heart was hurting. It helped, just a little.

  ‘Oh, Ari, I’m so sorry,’ Theo murmured.

  Aribella found she couldn’t speak. She pressed Luna closer to her.

  ‘You can tell me, you know, Ari.’ Theo said it so softly that Aribella almost didn’t hear. ‘About earlier . . . at the market. You can trust me.’

  ‘I know.’ If there was anyone in the world she could trust, it was Theo. But what could she tell him? She might be putting him in danger too.

  Before she could say anything else, Luna tensed, jumped out of Aribella’s arms and ran outside.

  ‘Luna, come back!’

  Aribella hurried after the black cat – and froze. At the end of Via Fortuna, a cloaked figure stood on the bridge. He was wearing a mask. Aribella shot back into the house.

  ‘Theo! There’s still a guard here. What do we do?’

  ‘Did he see you?’

  ‘I don’t know . . .’

  ‘My boat,’ Theo said at once, as if he’d been concocting this plan the whole time. ‘We’ll row out around the island until he’s gone. Quick – back to the roof.’

  Moving as fast as they dared without making too much noise, Aribella and Theo raced upstairs to her room, where Aribella quickly shoved on her boots. Then they clambered out of the window and across the roof again, using the windowsills to climb down the back of the house, before pelting to the harbour, where Theo’s boat was tied.

  Between the local fishing boats one unfamiliar craft was moored – a black gondola. It was utterly out of place, like a stallion amid ponies. Aribella looked at it with fear, and Theo, she was sure, with admiration. She noticed a golden winged lion painted on the gondola’s hull – the symbol of Venice.

  Theo had been given his boat for his thirteenth birthday, a hand-me-down from a fisherman whose son had outgrown it. It was full of patched leaks and its paint peeled like old fish scales, but it was his pride and joy.

  Theo unlooped the mooring rope as Aribella jumped aboard, then climbed in himself. The boat rocked under both their weights, and Aribella held on tightly as Theo began to row away from Burano’s safe harbour.

  The cold wind cut through their clothes. Aribella was glad of her thick woollen jumper, but the freezing water in the bottom of the boat went through the holes in her boots. They had no lantern to give them away, and pulled quietly out into the darkness with nothing but the red moon to guide them. Even the stars seemed to be hiding tonight. A thick white mist lay further out on the lagoon.

  She heard a flapping noise overhead, like leather gloves slapping together, and looked up to see a small dark shape flitting back and forth against the red moon. Just a bat. Nothing unusual, but she shivered as she looked down at the trembling black water.

  ‘Theo, do you remember what Gian said about the blood moon and the lagoon?’

  ‘Ari, since when have you listened to Gian? The moon may be red but no evil soul-sucking spirits are coming to get us. The only thing we have to worry about is that guard. We’ll stay out here for a little longer and then he’s bound to get bored. If he comes looking this way, we’ll spot him a mile off. All right?’

  The stretch of black sea between them and Burano was empty, and the white mist lay in front of them. Maybe Theo was right. She let out a shuddering breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and tried to relax. It was just a silly story. Evil spirits didn’t rise out of lagoons. But then fire wasn’t meant to come out of your fingers either . . .

  ‘Theo . . .’

  Behind him, a light was flickering and bobbing in the darkness. A gondola’s lantern. The masked guard! How had he got so close without them seeing him?

  ‘Theo, row!’ she hissed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think it’s the guard!’

  Theo started to row faster, pulling the oars as quickly as he could. But Aribella could see the shape of an elegant gondola now, and it was slipping through the water like silk, gaining on them.

  Aribella looked around desperately. The mist that lay on the lagoon was even closer.

  Theo was smiling bravely. ‘What luck! We’re bound to lose him in this.’

  ‘What if we get lost ourselves?’ Aribella asked nervously. But the gondola was fast approaching. They had no other option.

  The mist loomed over them and then they were inside its damp whiteness. Aribella could no longer see the gondola or the blood moon. She could barely see Theo at the other end of the boat.

  ‘Santa cielo, this is thick!’ Theo sounded as if he were at the end of a long tunnel.

  A sudden wave sent the boat spinning in disorientating circles. Aribella gripped the sides, her stomach lurching. She heard a horrible clunk, and Theo groaned.

  ‘Oh no! I’ve lost one of the oars.’ He sounded desperate. ‘I’m so sorry, Ari.’

  ‘It’s all right, don’t worry,’ she tried to reassure him, but they were not going to get far with only one oar. They were on a fishing boat, not a gondola. The mist was everywhere, blotting out everything, more waves rocked the boat, and soon they had swung in so many circles that Aribella was no longer sure where Burano was. She tried to quell her rising panic.

  Aribella wasn’t afraid of water when it was calm and glassy – it would be hard to get about in Venice if that were the case, given canals were roads and homes were on islands – but she was afraid of water when it was stormy, when it became uncontrolled and wild and could wreck ships and steal lives.

  There had been a storm the night Mama died, that was all Papa had told her. He said she’d drowned on the lagoon but had never explained what Mama was doing out there. Why had she been out on a boat at night alone? Had she got lost in mist just like this?

  Aribella hadn’t meant to think of Mama, but she surfaced in her mind now, shadowy and enigmatic, more idea than solid shape. Aribella could only recall the smell of her hair, the softness of her arms.

  Theo tried rowing again but it was useless with only one oar. Aribella tried to keep her breathing steady
as she strained to see into the gloom, searching for familiar landforms. They must be north of Burano now, on the open lagoon, heading . . . east?

  Suddenly, a patch of the mist cleared and the red moon illuminated the dark outline of an island. Aribella’s heart leapt – land! Thank goodness! But she soon realized it was not any island she knew. In the centre of it was a large hill, on top of which was a crumbling palazzo. The mist separated the island from the water so that it appeared to be floating.

  The hairs on the back of Aribella’s neck stood up. But the next moment the mist veil fell once again and the island was swallowed up. Aribella blinked, breathing quickly.

  She was about to tell Theo about it when a sharp hiss cut through the muffled silence, like a fast-moving wind through trees. But there were no trees, just mist and sea . . . She looked back the way they had come, searching for the source of the sound. The mist seemed to press into her ears and eyes, blinding and deafening her.

  From behind Theo, louder and clearer, came another sound – a slithering, like an oar moving through water, or a sea snake. Aribella whipped her head round. Something pale was emerging out of the mist behind the boat, behind Theo. Something so strange and so terrifying that it looked as if it had come right out of a nightmare, with two dark eye sockets and a face that gleamed, white as bone . . . A human skull floated in the mist, detached from everything.

  The dead had risen, just as Gian had said.

  Aribella heard her own scream rip through the air before she was aware she’d let it out.

  ‘Ari? What is it?’ Theo twisted this way and that, looking in every direction, before turning back to her. ‘Are you all right?’

  He could neither see it nor hear it, she realized, with fresh dread. But why?

  The skull moved closer to Theo, its dark jaws unhinged, and made another horrible hiss that chilled Aribella to her core.

  ‘Theo!’ she screamed.

  Theo leapt to his feet and the boat see-sawed under his weight. Aribella scrambled for the oar and lifted it just as the skull fixed its jaws round Theo’s cheek.

  Theo staggered backwards, crying out. Though he could not see the skull, he could definitely feel it.

  Aribella swung at the skull with all her might, but it dissolved back into the mist and the oar smacked into the side of Theo’s head instead. A horrible crack echoed into the night. Theo dropped like a stone into the belly of the boat.

  ‘No!’ Aribella threw down the oar and scrambled to Theo’s side.

  His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving. Please don’t be dead . . .

  She heard the skull hiss again, this time from above her. The fear was like cold water dripping down her spine, but now it turned to fury. Urgent, angry and hot.

  Tremors ripped through her whole body, becoming sharp pains as they coursed into her fingers. Her hands were shaking.

  It was happening again! She moved away from Theo and cried out in agony as the barely healed skin on each of her fingertips ignited. Bright, yellow sparks ripped out and lit up the darkness, stronger than before. Some instinct took over and she raised her burning hands above her head, directing the flames towards the skull. The pain in her fingers was unbearable. Stars exploded in her head and her vision swam with black spots.

  Still, she held on.

  The skull shrieked and hissed, wheeling away into the mist. The reflections of the flames danced upon the surface of the lagoon, making Aribella feel as though the whole world was water and fire. The skull wheeled higher and higher, still making that horrible hissing, until the mist swallowed it completely.

  Panting, Aribella clenched her fists and the sparks went out.

  ‘Theo . . .’ She stumbled back towards him but her foot caught on the oar and she fell. The boat rocked wildly then completely overturned, tumbling both her and Theo into the lagoon.

  Shock jolted through Aribella’s body as she plunged underwater. Her fingers went from burning to freezing. She breathed in water and choked, her chest tightening as she sank. Her arms were like lead and her lungs were squeezing shut, but she could not give up. Theo needed her. She kicked upwards desperately, her muscles almost spent. The surface was still so far away . . . but now there were glittering stars to draw her. Just when she thought she was done for, strong hands grabbed her wrists and pulled her up.

  Aribella came spluttering to the surface and was hauled over the side of a boat. She collapsed in a dripping heap. Her wet clothes clung to her body and her hair stuck to her forehead. The mist was gone, the moon was silver again and the stars were out, but as Aribella gulped the fresh, cold air, she realized the glittering stars that had drawn her to the surface were sequinned stars on the face of a black velvet mask, sewn with artistry beyond even Papa’s skills.

  Aribella had a funny feeling, as she looked from the mask to the night sky, that the pattern of sequins exactly matched the arrangement of the real stars. And for a moment, she was so taken by this thought and the mask’s beauty that she almost forgot what it meant. But her wonder quickly turned to dread as she registered she was lying in the bottom of a black gondola. The guard had caught them after all.

  Behind his starry mask, the man’s eyes shone, and he wore an indigo cloak that, like his mask, was decorated with stars. His bald head was covered in tattoos.

  At the other end of the gondola, she heard a groan. Theo lay there, his eyes closed.

  ‘Theo!’ She clambered towards him, wincing at the yellow bruise on his temple which she’d caused with the oar. But there was a far worse mark staining the other side of Theo’s freckled face: a pattern of black veins that spread from his face and down his neck where the skull had bitten him. It was as if his skin was infected by some terrible disease.

  ‘Theo!’ She shook him as violently as she dared. He was barely breathing. ‘Oh, Theo, please wake up!’

  ‘What happened?’ the guard asked.

  ‘You won’t believe me.’

  ‘Try me.’ There was a touch of playfulness in his tone.

  Aribella gave him a sideways glare. ‘This thing, this skull, it came out of the mist—’

  ‘A spectre?’ His tone was deadly serious now.

  Aribella started. The guard hadn’t questioned what’d she’d said at all. In fact, he spoke as though he knew of this spectre. ‘I don’t know, Theo couldn’t see it, but that mark on his face is where it bit him. I think it’s done something terrible to him and that’s why he won’t wake up. We need help.’

  The guard was already rummaging in his cloak. From an inside pocket, he withdrew a small vial of golden liquid which glowed in the darkness.

  Aribella bristled. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Something that will help. Pour a few drops on the wound . . . Do it quickly. I know you have questions but there isn’t time to explain. You have to trust me.’

  ‘Why should I?’ After all, hadn’t he just chased them out here? He was going to take her to prison with Papa . . .

  ‘Firstly, because I’m telling the truth. Secondly, because you want to save your friend and this is the only thing that will work. And thirdly, because you don’t have a choice.’

  He was right – what was the alternative? The mark had already spread to Theo’s shoulder.

  Reluctantly, Aribella took the vial, removed the stopper and let a few golden drops fall on to Theo’s cheek. As they were absorbed into Theo’s skin the black veins began to fade, and soon he looked as if he was just sleeping peacefully. When he let out a juddering breath, Aribella almost wept with relief.

  ‘What is this stuff?’ she asked, holding up the vial.

  ‘Four Thieves Vinegar. The only antidote to spectre bites. I don’t have anything to help with the pain in your fingers, I’m afraid. It always hurts using that much power without a mask.’

  Aribella understood nothing of what this man said. Why would wearing a mask make any difference? And how did he know about the pain in her fingers anyway? Her mind whirled. If the guard was here to arrest her, he was d
oing it in a very odd manner.

  She tucked the vial in her trouser pocket and tried to focus. She’d deal with the guard and whatever he had in store for her later. First, she had to persuade him to get Theo to safety.

  ‘Please, you must take my friend back to Burano. He’s done nothing wrong. He’s soaked and needs to get warm. Then you can do what you want with me. Imprison me or hang me . . .’ Her voice got so thick that it stuck in her throat and she had to swallow several times.

  For a moment, the guard did not reply. Then he did something entirely unexpected – he threw back his head and laughed. The sound was light and bright.

  Aribella glared at him. How dare he laugh at a time like this? What had happened to her life might be a laughing matter to him, but it certainly was not to her.

  ‘Forgive me. My dear girl, I can assure you I’ve no plans to imprison or hang you. Unless, of course, you continue to drip on my favourite cushion.’

  Aribella looked down. She hadn’t even noticed the fine cushion she was crouching on. She stood, wondering if this man was crazy, and tried to keep her body between him and Theo.

  ‘What do you want then?’ she asked, trying to sound braver than she felt.

  ‘To introduce myself.’ The guard untied the velvet ribbons of his mask and removed it. Underneath, his features were fox-like. He had more wrinkles crisscrossing his cheeks and forehead than Papa, and his skin was wind-worn, like a fisherman’s. His beard was grey and pointed, and now she could see that the tattoos which covered his bald head were a strange pattern of waxing and waning moons.

  The man bowed. ‘Rodolfo Foscari. Delighted to meet you, Aribella.’

  ‘You know my name . . . You got it from the Lion’s Mouth, didn’t you?’

  ‘I did. But you should not be afraid.’

  ‘Of course I should be afraid! The other guards took Papa away!’

  Rodolfo frowned and his wrinkles deepened. ‘I’m sorry to hear that but I’m sure there’s something we can do to help your papa.’

  Aribella regarded him warily. ‘You’re lying. The Doge sent you to capture us because I’m—’ She stopped.