Illuminate

by Tracy Clark

  “You’re sure that’s her?” Ehsan finally asked.

  “Manache! I’m in love with her. Of course I’m sure!” I paced like a caged animal, my hands scraping roughly at my hair. My mind had already processed the hundred ways this was the most disastrous thing that could happen. “How is she going to get out of Italy? How will she come here, without leading the world straight to us?”

  Despite my admonition not to ever call her, to only wait for her to contact us in case she was in a dangerous situation, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number of the phone Finn had given her. I had to try. I prayed the phone would work at all.

  “G.” That whispered call of my nickname triggered paroxysms of relief so profound, I thought I could cry.

  I tucked my head to my chest and turned my back from the others. “You’re alive.”

  “Amazing, right?”

  “I saw your picture…”

  “So you’ve seen the news.” She sighed. “Is everyone okay, from the earthquakes I mean?”

  “Yes. We’re all okay. I haven’t seen news,” I explained. “The churches, they are like madhouses. Your face is plastered all over T-shirts on the street. This is crazy.”

  “I know.” Her voice was so small. Defeated.

  “How can I get to you? I’ll come to you. I don’t want you to be alone.”

  “I’m not alone.”

  My fists clenched. “He went to you?” I asked. “Or has he been with you all along?” It was petty jealousy. I should be with her, not Finn. True to her stubborn nature, she didn’t answer.

  “Someone is helping us get to you. If all goes as planned, we’ll arrive first in Costa Rica and then make our way to you.”

  “When?”

  “Soon. Hopefully. A couple of days.”

  “I knew you should not have gone to Italy,” I said. Dread had nested low in my stomach from the moment she had the idea to go there. “It was for nothing and look what happened.”

  “It wasn’t for nothing. I found out what the key opens. It’s big. Bigger than what I did in that square.”

  Despite myself, I laughed. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  “Trust me. I’m going to text you a picture, and I’m hoping you can translate the Italian painted on it. I’m sending it right now because…mostly because I’m afraid…if anything happens to me…” her voice choked. “I don’t want it to stay hidden like it has for so long. I don’t want it to die with me.”

  “Bella, shhh. I love you.”

  Soft crying filtered to my ears, funneled straight to my heart. “I know, G. But loving me is not a good bet.”

  We said good-bye and the lightness at hearing her alive dimmed to a faint glow and was soon replaced by a worry so absolute, I’d give anything to have her in my arms, to protect her. If…when…people found out where her family lived, we’d have a lot more trouble on our hands than just the Arrazi.

  I pulled Adrian aside. “If that old woman won’t help us, there’s got to be someone in this city who can.”

  His lips pushed out, a bit of bravado. “I told you, man, I kicked around these streets for a year.” He gave me a chin lift. “I might know some people.” Then he looked me up and down. “You’re a little squeaky for them, bro. You look like a damn underwear model. I don’t know if they’ll trust you.”

  “They trust you. Should be good enough. Look, since I was ten I lived my life on the streets in more cities than you have fingers and toes. I can mix with anyone.”

  Adrian thought the whole crew might make his friends nervous, so a plan was hatched that he and I would go find them and put out feelers for weapons, and Will, Maya, and Ehsan would go for supplies and meet us in front of this church at sundown. I gave them Mami Tulke’s list of provisions, and we set off.

  I called Mami Tulke and was able to get through. I told her that I’d spoken to Cora and that she was on her way—hopefully in a few days. Mami Tulke didn’t seem to know yet about what happened to Cora in Rome, but I wanted her to know that Cora was alive and running. For now. I continued to check my phone for Cora’s text.

  Every city, without exception, has its seedy section. The part you hope not to find yourself in when you look up after wandering aimlessly, tired, looking for food, for shelter, for opportunity. “Honestly,” I told Adrian as we ducked through the cut in a chain link fence and crossed a trash-strewn field, “I’ve received more help and kindness in my life from people on this side of the tracks.”

  Adrian didn’t answer but cupped his hands around his mouth and made a whoop-whistle type of sound. His eyes were on the apartments above, with open squares in the cinderblock for windows. He called again, stopped, and listened.

  I whirled around before the voice said, “No move!” I’d felt the aggressive energy laced with adrenaline. Fear tinged his aura in mustard yellow. “How the hell did you know I was behind you?” he asked.

  I shrugged, trying to push as much calming, positive energy I could at him. I’d drown him in it, if it would get that small black pistol pointing in another direction. He gave me the sideways eyes, then turned his scrutiny on Adrian who was smiling like an idiot.

  “You’re still ugly,” Adrian said to the young man.

  They guy looked fit to pull the trigger until his eyes widened in recognition. “Heeeyyyy!” They did that man-bro hug that I never understood, and Adrian introduced me. Jose instantly relaxed and smiled like a little boy. He’s getting a double dose, I thought, realizing that Adrian had also thought to use his aura on Jose. “It’s so damn good to see you, Texas!” Jose said, tapping the bill of Adrian’s cap.

  We walked through the brush, careful not to step on the fallen fences or get bitten by the barbed wire that curled like spiked waves beneath our feet. I followed them silently, ducking around a hanging sheet that stood for a door. It took a few breaths to adjust my eyes, and I sent my silver aura out as a preemptive strike, just in case. If anyone attacked, they were going to be feeling real good when they did it. I was but one of the good vibes in the room. From the hazy cloud of stink, they were already feeling good long before we’d arrived.

  Instead of attack or even wariness, the men in the room barely took notice of us; so complete was their focus on the TV and the video game blaring in front of them. These guys had a sheet for a door but a complete gaming setup. Well, everyone had their priorities.

  Jose offered us a beer, and we each took one gladly. “Where you been hiding?” Jose asked Adrian. “You vanished, pendejo.”

  “Nah,” Adrian said. “I just found my family.”

  “Good, good,” Jose said. “I got my family right here.”

  Adrian took a big swig and swallowed hard. “Mine’s in trouble though, man.”

  There’s a valor among men that I’d witnessed many times. I’d never experienced it myself because since my parents were killed I never let myself get close to anyone enough to call them “family.” Until recently. From the concern in Jose’s eyes and the fight in his face, Adrian had brothers here, and they’d help him, no matter what.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  Adrian shuffled on his feet, looked to me, unsure of what to say. “Nothing you want to be involved in. I think we might be ambushed, dude. We need weapons, just in case, to defend ourselves.”

  “Borrow or buy?” Jose asked.

  “If borrowing’s an option, all the better,” I said. They both raised their brows at me. But this was my money. I hadn’t asked any of the Scintilla to contribute. It was enough of an uphill battle just convincing them that we should have weapons. “I’ll give you a thousand, just for your trouble. Consider it a safety deposit that you never have to return.”

  With that, the game paused. Every pair of eyes in the room landed on me. I plastered a smile on my face. “Maybe you can buy yourselves a door?”

  Laughter filled the room, and I took a relieved breath.

  Jose clapped me on my back. “We’d help our man here for free. But you’re good i
n my book for throwing down cash in good faith.” We leaned around a table where Jose drew a crude map, explaining the location where his uncle in the Elqui Valley had a hidden cache of weaponry. “If you’re in deep shit, here’s my number. Call us if you need backup.”

  “If all goes well,” I said, handing ten folded bills to Jose, “we’ll return the weapons to your hiding place.”

  “And if it don’t?”

  “Then you’ll hear about it on the news.”

  “That big, huh?”

  One of the other guys chimed in. “Big enough to replace the angel on the news who’s saving drop-dead people?” he joked.

  Another guy fell backward on the couch with his hand over his heart. “Man, I’d fake dead just to have her on her knees, looking down on me.”

  “Bet I can turn that angel into a little devil,” another joked.

  Adrian whirled his energy on me and smacked my back. “Ready to go?” he screeched.

  I unclenched my fists and nodded. “Ready.”

  More man-hugs and handshakes and we left the apartment, making our way to the city center to meet the others. “Sorry about that,” Adrian whispered. “They’re not bad, really.”

  “Really? Would Cora have been safe here with us?” I knew my perspective was skewed. I knew what he meant, but my blood was still boiling. “I just can’t help but think, if a couple of random men in a Santiago slum are talking about her that way, how many other people in the world are?”

  “Aw, Giovanni,” he crooned in his border accent. “The bigger the hero, the bigger the bull’s-eye.”

  My phone vibrated in my pocket and I whipped it out—Cora’s text. I tapped on the image and waited impatiently for it to download. When the image appeared on the screen, I froze. Silver light around a woman and a boy—barely a man. No…not just a young man and a woman—Jesus and his mother. The tiri gondi in the painting was more than coincidence. My eyes followed the auras of people in the background, up to the very key that Cora wore around her neck. The inscription in Italian said:

  St. Peter holds the key that records the misdeeds of those who have the audacity to claim dominion over the kingdoms beyond the gates of Earth.

  My face snapped up to meet Adrian’s curious eyes. There was no other interpretation. The key was actually made to record the heinous deeds that Cora saw when she touched it. A Scintilla must have had the sortilege to create the key and a Scintilla alone would have the power to receive its stored impressions, and Michelangelo…he knew that.

  I immediately texted my translation back to Cora.

  “What’s up?” Adrian asked.

  “What truth would the church do anything to keep secret?” I asked, though not for Adrian’s benefit. I was processing aloud. Would saying it aloud make it more plausible, more conceivable?

  “Thaaaat sex before marriage is a virtue?” he joked.

  “How about that they knew what Jesus really was and created an elaborate story to explain him?” I said. I looked at the painting again. Certainty as sure and solid as the ground under my feet settled over me. “Jesus and his mother—they were Scintilla.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Cora

  Turns out, Italy is a very small boot and it took just three hours to reach the airport in Venice where we abandoned Edmund’s rental car in the lot. It also turns out that Venice was created by magic fairies that once envisioned a city of serenity, water, and golden light.

  We boarded a water taxi in the dark, when the ocean was rolling softly in its sleep and the moon was our lamplight. I hung my head out the window of the boat and marveled at how much of the world I’d seen in such a short time. I’d never have known, when I ran away to Ireland, that my hunger for freedom would be fed while on the run for my life.

  The taxi driver peered at me as he helped me disembark near the Piazza San Marco where the film crew was wrapping up their last day of shooting. It had been a huge challenge to keep me out of sight and that was punctuated by the challenge of keeping my very visible markings hidden. Already, I was stuffing my recognizably thick, curly black hair into a cheap “I love Italy” cap Edmund bought at the convenience store and, despite it being midsummer, I wore a light scarf around my neck—trying to obscure the three black circles—and leather fingerless gloves to hide my hands. In an effort to stay anonymous, I was sure I stuck out more than ever. I’d fix that very soon.

  We stepped onto cobblestone pavers and made our way to a gondola to take us closer to our hotel. The night belonged to lovers, who strode arm in arm under the lamps and kissed in passing gondolas with singing gondoliers. The water quietly lapped against door fronts on the first floors of buildings that had long ago sunk past their doorknobs due to rising water and sinking land. I must have still been love-high from Rome, because all I wanted was to have everyone I cared about in the history of my life with me at that moment to see the beauty and magic of Venice. Chills snaked up my arms and spine. Was it some kind of life-flashing-before-your-eyes instinct? Was my death imminent and making me crave my loved ones around me? Making me want to share beauty with the only people who mattered, before I died?

  I tucked my knees to my chest and rubbed my gloved hands over my arms. Everyone dies, right? I just didn’t think death would feel like an open door that followed me everywhere. I was sixteen…too young to…wait… “What’s the date?” I asked the guys.

  “Third of August, I believe,” Edmund said, pinching a button on his watch to verify. “Yes.”

  “I forgot to make a wish,” I said, sinking lower on the wooden seat. “I turned seventeen a few days ago.”

  Dun scooted over and pulled me into his side.

  “I want cake,” I whined softly. “Chocolate cake. Heavy on the frosting.”

  He kissed my temple. “Done.”

  “I want cake and ice cream.”

  “Done.”

  “And a foot massage.”

  “Greedy wench.”

  We chuckled as the gondola passed under a familiar-looking bridge I was sure I was supposed to know the name of.

  I let out a long sigh and stared up at the stars.

  Edmund booked a room in a hotel adjacent to the movie crew’s hotel so we could depart with them the next morning in a large, boisterous group and hopefully blend in. “What about the people on the crew?” I asked. “There’s too many people to contain this information if I’m recognized or caught.”

  Edmund, who had been pulling clothes from his duffel, halted and looked at me with an exasperated expression only partially hidden by his floppy hair. “I didn’t tell them who you are, but these people aren’t blind or stupid. It’s fortunate they’re used to being around celebrities. Best we can hope is that they don’t recognize you.”

  Dun came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “I think we’ve bypassed Celebrity Road and are cruising fast down Worst Case Scenario Street. The whole world is looking for her. How do we know someone won’t try to take advantage of that?”

  “We don’t!”

  I startled, and Dun gripped harder on my shoulders.

  “Sorry,” Edmund said. “I’m tired. One thing at a time, okay? Priority one is getting her out of Italy, away from the immediate danger of the damn modern-day Inquisition. I’ve already lied and said she was an informant who’d run into some trouble and needed to get out of Italy. With luck, they’ll think she had some trouble with the mafia and keep a wide berth.”

  Dun affected a godfather voice. “Ask questions, my friend, and it’s your tongue on a kebab.”

  Edmund carried his clothes to the bathroom for a shower.

  “I know this is a girly question, but do either of you have a spare razor? I need a pair of scissors, too.”

  “I can go get them,” Dun said.

  Edmund stopped at the bathroom door. “I’ll go,” he said with a sigh, pointing to Dun. “The less you’re out in public, the better.” The door clicked behind him, and we scrambled for the TV to get the latest news.
r />   Apparently, I’d been spotted in California, Mexico, and Disney World. That was the only part of the “Miracle” story that made me smile. Seeing an aerial view of my house in Santa Cruz surrounded by news vans made me sick. Poor Janelle. She’d apparently handled this ordeal by burrowing in the house and leaving no clue if or when she’d come out. The news reporters had an air of hound dogs on the hunt—they’d bark and bay relentlessly until they snuffed her out of her hole. Papers for a search warrant were already on a judge’s desk. “How can they do that?” I said, anger making me want to punch something, someone. “I didn’t commit a crime!”

  Dun looked at me with sad eyes. “The crime is being different. A mystery. Problem with people is that they think they’re entitled to know you. Sweet cheeks, it’s a privilege to know you.”

  “I met you because people attacked you for being different,” I said, tucking a strand of his long black hair behind his ear and remembering the little Indian boy with the braid, and how a brutish kid had tried to cut it off. “I love you, Dun.”

  “Duh.”

  “Thank you for being a dogged ass and following me.”

  “Did you seriously just call me a dog’s ass?”

  We turned back to the TV. The Vatican had yet to make an official statement to the world. Hordes of people filled their city, and the world perched on the edge of their La-Z-Boys for an explanation. Who among us should be capable of miracles? What could they possibly say, I thought cynically. Yeah, we knew that people like her existed, but we didn’t think you could handle that, and we kinda wanted a monopoly on miracles, so we’ve been trying to kill them all.

  Many tried to dismiss the “miracle” because We don’t really know that these children were dead. They could have simply fallen down, lost consciousness… This could have been a misunderstanding brought on by the hysteria of the very real deaths occurring around the world.

  There would be no convincing the masses who couldn’t see auras that those kids were dead, their pulses were still, their lights extinguished. And whether or not their glow had dimmed so that only the heat of life remained somewhere deep inside, before I blew it into flame again, could never be proven.