by Anna Hoghton
‘What’s going on over here?’ he asked, surveying them with his small eyes.
‘Just a little accident. All under control now,’ Seffie said brightly. ‘It’s Aribella’s first day. We were welcoming her.’
Jacapo turned his gaze to Aribella. He did not offer any welcoming words.
‘It’s not a proper Cannovacci first day without a little excitement, is it?’ a sing-song voice said from behind them.
Aribella turned to see Rosa. She was wearing another beautiful dress. This one was purple with pearls round the neckline. The key keeper clapped her hands and an enormous chocolate cake covered in candles appeared out of thin air. ‘Happy Birthday to you . . .’ she sang.
The entire dining room joined in, and Aribella did the same, quietly wondering who shared her birthday.
‘Happy Birthday, dear ARIBELLA!’ everyone sang.
Aribella blinked. The cake was for her?
Rosa gestured for her to blow out the thirteen candles on top, which she did to tumultuous applause. Seffie clapped Aribella on the back so hard that she almost had a coughing fit, and Rosa cut the cake and handed it round.
‘How are you feeling this morning, Aribella?’ she asked.
‘Well, thank you.’
‘Good. Well, after you’ve had your cake would you please come with me? There’s a meeting of the Elders and Rodolfo wants you to join them.’
The other Novices stopped mid-mouthful and exchanged looks. The warm feeling of belonging Aribella had experienced suddenly faded. She was still different – a Novice of the Lion’s Mouth. She noticed the Elders were beginning to leave the dining room. Rodolfo would want her to tell them about last night.
Aribella nodded stiffly. The pastries were sitting in her stomach uncomfortably now. She didn’t want to talk about the spectre again, but she knew she had to – and it would be a chance to find out if there was any news of Papa. So she quickly finished her cake, wiped her mouth and said goodbye to the others.
Seffie gave her arm a small squeeze. ‘It’ll be fine.’
Aribella nodded, half wishing she would come with her. But the feeling of Seffie’s squeeze lingered on her skin. It felt good to have a friend.
Aribella followed Rosa down to the lobby, where Nymeria was still sleeping, and through a door opposite the bathroom. This led into a luxurious lounge. The dark wood panelling on the walls reminded Aribella of a ship’s cabin. Purple and orange armchairs were arranged carefully about the room, with mahogany coffee tables between them.
All the Elders from the dining room seemed to be there, including the lady with the white-blonde plait and the lady with the braids. So too was the scowling Jacapo. Aribella’s stomach clenched.
‘Welcome, Aribella,’ said Rodolfo. He was the only Elder standing, dressed this morning in a sky-blue waistcoat that, like his cloak, was covered in stars. Io was hanging from the mantelpiece, apparently sleeping, his little leathery wings wrapped round him. ‘You slept well?’
Aribella nodded. She could not say the same for Rodolfo, who looked exhausted. Had he been up all night reading the stars? Aribella was starting to wonder how she had slept so well, given all her worries about Papa, Theo and the spectre . . . Perhaps the sweet-smelling bubbles in the bathtub had had something to do with it. She glanced back at Rosa.
‘These are the Halfway Hotel’s Elders,’ Rodolfo continued. ‘There are many of us, so I won’t waste time on introductions now if that’s all right with everyone. Aribella looks far too nervous to remember names anyway.’
There was a murmur of laughter, but only a small one. The atmosphere in the room was tense.
Rodolfo became serious too. ‘Now, Aribella, could you please describe, in your own words, what you saw on the lagoon last night?’
Every face in the room turned to her. Jacapo watched her coldly, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and Rodolfo. Beside him the woman with the silver-blonde plait was looking concerned.
Aribella found her throat had gone dry and swallowed several times. ‘Well, first the moon . . . changed colour. It went red.’
Rodolfo nodded gravely. ‘Yes, the blood moon. We know about that. It happens rarely, but when it does it signals that the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead is vulnerable.’
So Gian hadn’t been talking as much rubbish as she and Theo had thought. Could there really be such a thin line between the two worlds? The idea filled Aribella with fear. She thought again of the spectre and shivered.
‘And then what happened?’ Rodolfo prompted.
‘I . . . I was rowing on the lagoon, with my friend, and there was this strange mist and this . . . thing . . . this skull came out of the mist and bit my friend. Signore Rodolfo gave him this vinegar that healed him.’
The room had gone completely silent. Aribella’s sore fingers tingled and she balled her hands into fists behind her back. Now was not the time to burst into flames again.
It was Rodolfo who broke the silence first. ‘You remember, Marquesa,’ he said, turning to the lady with the braids and colourful scarves, ‘that after I read the stars last month, I asked you to brew me a batch of Four Thieves Vinegar, just in case?’
Marquesa nodded. ‘Of course I do,’ she said in a low, husky voice. ‘It’s an extremely difficult potion to brew. Takes twelve hours and the ingredients are hard to come by.’
‘Which is why you only made me a small amount,’ Rodolfo replied. ‘But I would suggest you make more, as much and as soon as you can.’ His expression was so serious that Aribella was frightened all over again. Did Rodolfo think there would be another attack?
‘Surely that’s not necessary!’ exclaimed Jacapo. ‘One spectre attack, while unfortunate, doesn’t mean there will be more.’ He glanced at Aribella. ‘It may not even be true!’
‘But this is impossible!’ The speaker was the lady with the blonde plait. ‘Spectres can’t move from the world of the dead.’
‘I know it seems so, Ursula,’ Rodolfo replied, ‘and I don’t understand it either, but I’m afraid it has happened. We have to be careful. Remember the Black Death . . .’
‘The Black Death was a plague! Nothing more to it,’ Jacapo snapped.
‘That’s what we’ve told ourselves for centuries, but many believe that it was the last time the spectres crossed the boundary. That it wasn’t really a plague, but spectres feasting on souls.’
A murmur swept through the room.
‘Forgive me, Rodolfo,’ Jacapo said, rising to his feet and drawing himself up to his full height, still barely level with Rodolfo’s chest. ‘But these are just stories. The boundary is strong and we Cannovacci have been protecting it and Venice for centuries.’
There were sounds of agreement.
‘If it is strong, then why is the water rising far more than usual?’ Rodolfo boomed.
The room went quiet again.
‘The acqua alta,’ someone muttered. ‘It happens every year.’
‘It’s too early for that,’ Rodolfo countered. ‘And the water is much higher.’
Aribella felt sure her presence had been forgotten. She was struggling to keep up with the conversation.
‘I have seen spectres in the stars, as I’ve already told you,’ Rodolfo went on. ‘There is a darkness coming, a darkness that, if it is not stopped, spells doom for all of us – for Venice, and quite possibly the world.’
Another stunned hush followed. Elders shifted nervously in their seats.
‘What sort of doom?’ asked Ursula, her voice trembling.
Rodolfo shook his head gravely. ‘I do not know.’
‘But you’re the star-reader,’ Jacapo said mockingly. ‘Aren’t you meant to know?’
On the mantelpiece, Io flexed his wings.
Rodolfo frowned. ‘The stars are strange. There are messages in them I have never seen before, which I do not yet fully understand. But I have a theory.’
‘Which is?’ Jacapo’s tone remained sceptical.
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p; Rodolfo paused. ‘Zio.’
The word hit the room like a bolt of lightning. Elders were on their feet in uproar, knocking over glasses of water and cups of coffee. Ursula burst into tears and Marquesa put an arm round her. Aribella’s brain whirled. Zio was the name of the man in the portrait with the petals below it, the one who had been murdered.
Jacapo raised his hands. ‘Silenzio!’
The room instantly fell quiet and Aribella wondered if Jacapo had used his power to control sound.
Jacapo shot the star-reader a scathing look. ‘Rodolfo, really? Are you really going to drag all this up again? We had enough of your ridiculous theories ten years ago! Zio was murdered, Rodolfo, murdered. I know you find it hard to believe that Clara did it, but it’s the truth. And you making up preposterous conspiracies does not help anyone.’
There was a loud thump. Ursula had fainted and fallen off her chair.
Marquesa quickly knelt beside her and rummaged in her cloak. She took out a handkerchief and a small jar of powder. She sprinkled the powder into the handkerchief and placed it to Ursula’s nose. Ursula revived instantly. She pushed the handkerchief away, spluttering.
‘Are you all right, Ursula?’ Rodolfo asked, but Jacapo turned on him at once.
‘Look what you’ve done!’ he snapped. ‘It is not wise to speak ill of Zio, Rodolfo. He was a victim. It’s time you were honest with yourself and faced up to what Clara really was.’
Aribella’s head was spinning. She wished someone would just explain, but it seemed, from the shifty looks around the room, that the Elders were skirting round the edges of a secret they would far rather forget.
‘Why were you alone on the lagoon last night, anyway?’ Jacapo snapped.
‘I was following a name from the Lion’s Mouth.’
‘Without discussing it with the rest of the Elders?’
Rodolfo’s eyes narrowed. ‘What exactly are you accusing me of, Jacapo?’
‘You didn’t follow protocol. You’re meant to report Lion’s Mouth names to the Council of Elders so that we can elect a person to collect the Novice. Why did you take it upon yourself? Did you see something in the stars you’re not telling us?’ Jacapo’s eyes flashed.
Ursula let out another whimper.
‘Of course not,’ Rodolfo replied, but Aribella thought she saw the tiniest flicker of something change in his expression, like a cloud skidding across the moon. He was definitely hiding something. But what? She’d decided to trust Rodolfo and needed to believe he was going to help Papa . . . But was it suspicious that he’d been on the lagoon alone last night?
‘Look, I apologize for that, I do, but there was little time. The Doge’s guards had already captured Aribella’s father, which brings us to another matter,’ Rodolfo said, moving on smoothly. ‘He is currently in the palace prisons awaiting trial. I ask to be allowed to intervene in order to stop an innocent man rotting in prison, or worse.’
Aribella’s chest tightened. Poor Papa.
‘You know we don’t involve ourselves in Inbellis affairs,’ Jacapo snapped.
‘Unless absolutely necessary,’ Rodolfo countered. ‘And in this case it is necessary, given that the man in question is Aribella’s father and Aribella is a Cannovacci—’
‘He is still Inbellis.’
It was as if the walls of the lounge were closing in. Aribella had been so eager to know when the Cannovacci would save Papa – now it turned out the question was whether they would.
‘Please, help him,’ she blurted. ‘I’ll do anything.’
Jacapo’s expression remained stony. ‘Send the Novice away.’
Aribella felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘Come on,’ Rosa said softly. ‘The Elders need to discuss this . . . Perhaps it is best you leave while we do.’
‘But I should be here,’ Aribella gasped, shrugging Rosa off. Tears were already welling in her eyes and she blinked them back. She did not want to cry in front of the Elders.
‘I promised to help your papa,’ Rodolfo said, his blue eyes steady. ‘I will keep my word.’
Aribella shot Jacapo and the other Elders one last pleading look as Rosa ushered her out into the cool lobby.
The door of the lounge closed behind her with a heavy thud.
Aribella nearly jumped out of her skin when Seffie popped up behind the reception desk.
‘What did they say, Ari?’ she whispered. ‘It was hard to hear through the door.’
‘That’s the point! You’re not supposed to hear if you’re not invited to the meeting!’ Helena’s voice hissed angrily from the landing above. ‘You shouldn’t be eavesdropping.’
‘Well, you’re eavesdropping on me, Helena,’ Seffie pointed out.
‘I’m trying to stop you from breaking rules! Oh, fine, get checked-out of Halfway, see if I care.’ Helena’s footsteps stomped away up the staircase.
Seffie rolled her eyes. ‘She’s such a goody-two-shoes. They won’t check me out,’ she added, with a toothy grin. ‘I’m far too dangerous to be unleashed on the streets. But tell me what happened. Was it about the spectre?’
Aribella nodded, but didn’t trust herself to speak.
‘It’s all right if you don’t want to talk about it,’ Seffie said understandingly. She stiffened guiltily as the lounge door opened again and Rosa’s head appeared round it.
‘I thought I heard voices! What are you doing lurking out here, Persephone?’
‘I, er – just came to give Aribella the grand tour,’ Seffie blurted. ‘Didn’t I, Ari?’
Aribella nodded uncertainly.
‘Well, I think you’ve done the lobby thoroughly.’ Rosa arched her eyebrows but she gave them a tired smile. ‘Why don’t you show Aribella the rest of the hotel?’
‘Great idea.’ Seffie nodded. ‘Might as well actually give you a tour now,’ she said once Rosa had shut the door, and she linked her arm through Aribella’s.
Aribella loved the instant closeness of this gesture, the way it tied her and Seffie together as they climbed the stairs. Aribella would never dream of linking arms with anyone else, even Theo – and especially someone she’d only met the previous evening. But Seffie was so comfortable in her own skin that it did not cross her mind for a second that Aribella might reject such a gesture, and Aribella was sure that, even if she had, Seffie would not take it personally as Aribella might have done. Seffie was confident enough for both of them and this made everything simple. Seffie had decided they were going to be friends, so they were.
Seffie didn’t press Aribella on the Elders’ meeting, and instead distracted her with the tour, which took most of the morning. The hotel turned out to have more nooks, crannies and hidden delights than she’d thought. Indeed, the interior of Halfway was far bigger than the exterior suggested, and Aribella’s head hurt trying to make sense of it. She’d only counted three tiers of windows from the outside last night, but inside there seemed to be four floors, and on each of these floors the corridors extended much further than seemed possible.
‘Don’t try to work it out,’ Seffie warned, when Aribella mentioned this. ‘Halfway is like a maze. It doesn’t make any sense, but that’s why it’s great.’
The ground floor was where the formal meeting rooms were. The first floor was for informal communal areas – the dining room, two more lounges, and a beautiful reading room, to name just a few. The second floor was for training rooms, and the third floor was where the Novices’ bedrooms were. Seffie showed Aribella her own bedroom. It was like a jungle, with green leaf-patterned wallpaper and real plants and vines everywhere.
‘Novices get rooms, Elders get suites,’ Seffie explained. ‘If they want them.’ Rosa says that as long as a Cannovacci is alive and part of the Cannovacci, a room exists for them at the Halfway. When they die or are checked-out, the room passes back to the hotel, ready to be made up for its new guest. That’s called a turnover.’
Seffie was most excited to show Aribella the rooftop, which was accessed by a rickety ladder.
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nbsp; ‘This is where I come to chat to the birds. Rodolfo reads the stars here too,’ Seffie announced once they had emerged into cold wind and bright sunshine. ‘You can see Venus and Mars on a clear night.’
The roof was covered in rugs and cushions, and a number of telescopes were set up at different angles. The view over the city was incredible, but Aribella could not stop staring at a complicated-looking star chart chalked on the stone floor. She wondered if any of those markings had predicted the spectre, and shivered.
Seffie seemed to sense this change in her mood. ‘Let’s go down to the basement next. I can show you the swimming pool.’
The distraction worked. ‘What?’ A basement swimming pool in Venice? It was unheard of!
‘It’s for us to practise breathing underwater with our masks. It will be more fun once you get your mask, of course, then we can talk underwater too.’
‘Talk underwater?’ Aribella spluttered. ‘Your mask . . . lets you do that too?’
‘Of course,’ Seffie said as if this was no big deal.
‘What don’t the masks do?’
‘Help you smuggle animals into Halfway. Come on.’ Seffie linked arms again and steered Aribella back to the ladder. Aribella wondered if she’d ever stop being amazed. There was something new to discover every minute.
When they reached the lobby, Seffie hopped over the sleeping Nymeria and the reception desk, and took the swimming pool key from the gold hooks. There were only two on the row marked ‘Basement’.
‘Rosa doesn’t mind if I take the swimming pool key,’ she said airily. ‘It’s only the Novices that really use it. But that’s the only one – if you try to take someone else’s room key, you’ll set off Nymeria.’
As if to agree, the lioness let out an extra-loud snore.
Seffie led them through a heavy, bolted door that led down to the basement. Roughly cut stone steps descended into a corridor that was lit with torches.
‘The Elders never come down here,’ Seffie said, as they went deeper and deeper below ground. And after a while: ‘Oh, I think I’ve taken a wrong turn.’
They had stopped at a door which seemed to be the end of a corridor. Seffie peered closely at it and tried the swimming pool key. It didn’t buzz in her hand, as Aribella’s room key had done, and wouldn’t turn either. Seffie shrugged. ‘Wrong door. The swimming pool must be the other way, come on. It’s worth it, I promise.’