by A. L. Knorr
"Request?" Now I was confused, too. What was he talking about? I shook my head. "How does one advertise to hire a magus?"
"You are asking me?" He put a hairy backed hand to his chest. "You are not part of the... Again, I don't know what you call it in Inglese... the cooperativa?"
"There's a cooperative of magi?" My jaw dropped. I snapped it shut again. "Where? Here, in Venezia?" Why hadn't Elda mentioned it? She must not have known. I couldn't imagine her hiding such a fact from me. She did say that she was afraid she might be missing some clips.
Enzo put his palms together in prayer. "Were you born yesterday, girl?"
"In terms of being a magus, yes," I cried, and my confident in-control act went up in smoke. If there were other magi - enough for a 'cooperativa' of them - then I had to meet them. If I was stuck with the fire for life, then someone had to show me how to make the most of it. My heart had begun to pound.
"It's okay," Enzo said, putting a palm out to me in a gesture of 'calm down.' "Go back. Why are you here? Something to do with Elda."
I took a deep breath. "Yes, I want you to forgive her debt to you. Leave her and her family alone."
"I'm not interested in Elda, only in her son. He is the son of someone who once meant very much to me."
"Would you still be interested in him if you knew that he was not a fire magus?"
"But he is. I have seen the boy. Only magi have eyes like that," Enzo answered.
Karim appeared, holding a small tray with a glass of water on it. Enzo and I stopped talking as Karim bent down, set the glass in front of me, and then left.
"Not anymore he's not," I said, picking up the water and drinking it all in one gulp. I put the cup down on the glass with a clack. "He gave the fire to me."
There was silence while Enzo took this in. He didn't react, beyond chewing the inside of a cheek thoughtfully. "It must have been killing him," he said, quietly. "Nic explained that it is possible but this is the first I have heard of it done."
I nodded. "He was dying."
"This is why you don't know the cooperativa. When did this happen?"
"Only a few weeks ago. I want to take Elda's debt. That's why I'm here."
"Wait, go back. How did you come to meet Isaia? Why did he give it to you?"
"I came to Venezia as an au pair..." I began.
He whooped with laughter and slapped his knee. "You are the nanny?!" he bellowed. "This is beautiful. I have to tell Tab this, he needs to write a movie."
"Au pair."
"Whatever, whatever." He was still laughing. "I shall send someone to confirm that what you say is true. If the boy no longer has the fire, then you may take on her debt." A bemused expression crossed his face. "I don't know why you would do that. Once we have made an agreement it is unbreakable. I hope you know what you're getting into—"
I interrupted him, more from nerves than dominance. "This is the part where we talk terms, right?"
"Giusto." He scratched his chin, amused. Could he hear how loud my heart was beating?
"When you send someone to confirm that Isaia is no longer a magus, you must call Elda first and set a proper appointment. Don't just show up on her doorstep, you'll give her a heart attack."
"Certo," he said, looking at me like I was one brain cell from idiocy. "Do you think we are animals?"
I barreled on before I lost my guts. I held up my first two fingers, "Secondly, I owe you a favor, but any costs involved are covered by you, I won't do anything illegal, and you have to understand that I'm not even a legal adult yet. I have a family, parents, to answer to."
He waved this off. "I do not send children to do my work."
"Good." I held up three fingers. "And lastly, you get one debt, one favor. Do you understand? Uno."
His belly shook with silent laughter and he said, "I like you. I am not accustomed to bargaining with a teenager. It's like un... piccolo gioco."
"This is not a game," I said, and the fire lit in my eyes.
"Well, I can see you are not lying," Enzo said, staring into my eyes, smiling and unafraid.
"This is my life. I'm not a secret agent, an assassin, or one of your mafioso—"
I was about to go on when his smile disappeared. "Mafioso? You think we are mafia?"
I blinked. "Aren't you?"
"You North Americans think you know so much just because you watch The Godfather, which, for the record, is a beautiful film. But no, we have no part with those devils. I am simply a businessman with long arms."
I wasn't sure what the difference was. "Okay," I said, "I stand corrected. Either way, don't send a knife to a gun-fight, okay?"
His offended expression was gone as swiftly as it had come and he laughed heartily. "A knife, or a spoon plastica?" he joked, raising an eyebrow at me.
I blushed, and the flame in my pupils sizzled out as though he'd thrown a bucket of cold water on me.
"You were making macaroni art two years ago," Enzo continued. "What can I trust you with?"
"Well..." I stumbled, "I can... light things on fire, and stuff." I cringed. I sounded so lame.
"But you won't do anything illegal..."
I wasn't sure what to say to this. What kind of task would he ask of me if I was a magus that wouldn't do anything that was against the law?
"I am not like Nic—" I began, but stopped. What if I'd put too many restrictions in place? I could lose the deal.
"Giovanni!" Enzo barked, making me jump.
Moments later, one of the men I'd seen earlier appeared. Enzo asked him for something. He nodded and disappeared.
"Tell you what," Enzo said. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "The Baseggios can move on with their lives for now, no problema. Most likely, I will transfer her debt to you..."
Most likely? My heart sank.
Giovanni returned and handed Enzo a small black card. Enzo said, "Per lei, per lei!" pointing to me. Giovanni mechanically swung the card to me.
I took it. It had the name Basil Chaplin stamped on it in silver ink, and a phone number. I turned the card over. On the back was a silver symbol I recognized - the magus mark.
"But first," Enzo continued, "you call him. You spend some time with him, " he said, sweeping his hands around to indicate the passage of time. "You learn things. Then you come see me. We talk then. I am a patient man. One does not get where I am without patience."
I fingered the smooth cardstock, and my thumb grazed the name embossed into the soft paper. Hope filled me. To my surprise, I felt a sudden and strong bond with this person, this Basil, though I didn't know him. He was magi. He was my tribe. If I felt this connected to a stranger, how would I feel once I'd met him? I was starting to understand the connection between Isaia and Nic better as my eyes devoured the silver letters. Basil Chaplin.
The phone number was European but I didn't recognize the country code. I was going to have to do some serious thinking about what to do next. I was facing my last year of high school, choosing a university, going back home to my family. How was I going to explain this to them? My parents were going to freak out. Should I even tell them? I didn't know how to keep a secret from them anyway, they can read my face like it's an open book. And my voice would probably never go back to normal. I crammed all these thoughts away and tucked the black card into my pocket.
There was still the matter of Dante.
"Your son..." I began.
"You know Dante?" Enzo asked. Was it just my imagination or did his face darken? So Dante hadn't mentioned me.
"I don't want to get involved with your family stuff, but Dante said he sent men to Gallipoli, to track the Baseggios."
If his brow had not darkened earlier, it was looking thunderous now. "What did my son do? Did you tell him you are magi?"
"He knows," I admitted.
He let out a stream of rapid Italian which sounded beautiful to my ears but it was clear that the meaning was not beautiful. "You leave Dante to me," he growled.
"Okay," I sa
id. Did I really just tattle on Dante to his dad? Yup. I just did. I shoved the sheepish feeling into the same dusty corner of my brain that I shoved all the other thoughts I'd labeled 'later.'
"One last thing," he said. "Can you give me your word that you will never use your power to harm me or any of my own?"
I wasn't expecting that. Dante's face flashed in my mind. My thoughts rapidly rifled through the possible consequences of telling Enzo about what Dante had done. I finally decided that there were no downsides for me, only for Dante.
"Senior Barberini, your son locked me in a cell without water for I don't know how many hours."
Enzo's face went still. Only his pupils moved, looking at my eyes. After a moment, he said, "Go on." His voice was very different. Dangerous.
"His intention was to force me to pass my powers to him in exchange for my life."
He absorbed this, his eyes hard. "But, you didn't. Clearly."
"No. But I'm ashamed to say I would have. The pain was beyond anything anyone can imagine. I was rescued. By your niece Federica, and someone you knew as a boy - Rafaele Dimaro."
His eyes telegraphed surprise but he didn't say anything for a while. Then, "You survived a burning. Do you know what that means?"
"My insides are charred beyond recognition?"
He ignored my joke. "I know it doesn't seem like it, because you were forced against your will. But Dante did you a favor. Magi who survive a burning are far more powerful than those who don't. They have superior control, can withstand more heat and expel more energy. They also don't have to live with the constant pain. Basil can tell you more about how it works when you meet him. I don't understand it fully. According to Nic, there are very few magi who survive, let alone attempt a burning. He wanted to do it but I wouldn't allow it."
My respect for Enzo grew. A burning would have made Nic more powerful, but even though Enzo could have benefited from Nic's increased power, he wouldn't let his employee take the risk.
"What happened to Nic?"
His face went flat and his eyes filled with regret. "He attempted a burning anyway. He recruited my foolhardy son to give him water at the right time. All magi are different. Some can withstand a burning for up to twenty-four hours before they die. Dante failed to give him water in time and Nic died. It only took nine hours."
I swallowed. Isaia's father had gone through the same thing that I had, only he had burned completely to death. I imagined the blond man from the video clips lying on his back, unable to speak or move. He'd been counting on Dante to administer the healing water at the right time...waiting in agony for help that never came.
"I'm truly sorry."
Enzo nodded his thanks. "I am too. Nic was much more than an employee. He was a great friend."
Raf had said that Enzo had always been disappointed in Dante, even when Dante was young. Nic's death must have been the nail in the coffin of their relationship.
"So, I guess you can understand my reticence to swear that I'll never protect myself against a member of your family?"
Enzo waved his hand. "You have nothing to fear from Dante, anymore. I still need your word. It's required from all of my men, and now... from my lady." The way he said it made me feel like he respected me.
I didn't have any intention of ever using my power against anyone, but suddenly I had another bargaining chip. "I will give you my word as long as you consider our trade complete. You won't send a man to visit Elda, in fact, you'll not visit her again on this matter."
He appeared to consider this, then he held out his hand and said, "My word also."
We shook.
He kissed both of my cheeks and then put a palm to each and squeezed my face lightly between his warm hands. "Grazie per tutto," he said, looking me straight in the eyes. "Be a good girl, eh?"
He curled his fingers around the back of my neck and planted a kiss solidly in the middle of my forehead. For a second, I felt like a pre-schooler.
"Oh," he said. "Tell Rafaele to come visit an old friend once in a while? I miss that boy."
I smiled. "I will. Although, I think you'll find he's become a man."
"And a good one, I should think." He tipped his index finger toward his forehead.
As though by magic, Karim appeared from behind the curtain.
Karim and I didn't speak until we were at the front gate.
"Well, Saxony Cagney of Saltford on the East coast of Canada. Did you get what you came for?" He held the gate open for me with one hand.
I stepped onto the street, feeling the little black card in my pocket. "I think... more, actually."
He gave a nod and a small smile. "Good," he said, and closed the gate.
Chapter 40
As soon as the gate closed behind me, I turned toward the Baseggios’ villa. I froze in place and my brain skipped a cog.
Dante was leaning against the stone wall across from the villa. He had his arms crossed, and those wicked brown eyes were boring into me from across the calle.
"What have you done?" He dropped his arms and straightened.
I lifted my chin and steeled my expression. Curiously, instead of speeding up, my heart slowed down. My thinking sharpened. We circled each other in the small piazza, our hands at our sides, like gunfighters.
I had just promised Enzo I wouldn't use my powers to harm him, or any of his own. As bad as their relationship might be, I was sure Dante still amply qualified as 'Enzo's own.' I swallowed and cursed inwardly.
"Coward," he spat. "I should have known. A girl can't handle the power of fire. You don't deserve it. You're an embarrassment to your kind. A failure."
The fire blossomed in my belly, but instead of rage, I felt a soothing calm. "Well, you should know what that feels like."
He froze. "What do you mean?"
"I just had a nice chat with your padre," I began.
He bared his teeth and lunged for me.
I spat an ember at the stones in front of his feet and it ricocheted through his legs. He halted, up on his toes. He looked at the smoking gouge in the ground and back up at me, his eyes wide and fearful. Before he could gather his thoughts, I dropped my jaw and breathed a blast of hot air at him.
It was the first time I'd done such a thing. I was fully aware that I could have belched a powerful stream of fire into his face. Just like a blowtorch. What other abilities had the burning given me...had Dante given me? Oh, the irony.
His hair blew back and his eyes squinted shut. He put up an arm to defend himself and staggered backward, away from the blast of my furnace. I was amazed at how I could regulate the temperature so accurately. The wind emanating from me was quite hot and strong enough to push him back, but not hot enough to seriously burn him.
Best of all, I felt no pain, and no anger. The fire and I were finally friends. I let my eyes glow. I was a fire magus, after all.
He hit the wall behind him and I let the stream of hot air fade. I closed my jaw. He peered over his forearm and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. His face looked pink and sunburned. Harmed? Not so much. Scared? I looked at his eyes. Yup.
I fished in my bag for my travel sized bottle of aloe-vera and threw it at his chest. He gave a startled cry of surprise and caught the bottle. He looked down at it in confusion.
When he read the label, he started laughing, albeit without humor. The maniacal sound made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I walked past him and didn't look back as the laughter faded behind me.
Chapter 41
I was pleasantly surprised to see Raf waiting on a bench near the Baseggios’ villa by the time I got home. He got up and walked toward me as soon as he saw me, his eyes worried. He opened his arms and instinctively, I stepped into the circle.
"Finally, the pretty Italian man I actually wanted to see."
He was too tense to laugh at my comment. "Everything okay?" he asked against my hair.
"Yes. Visiting Enzo was a good call."
"I'm glad."
"Speaking of
visiting Enzo. He'd like to see you sometime," I said as we turned and walked toward the door.
I told Raf about our conversation. He listened with quiet concern. He took my hand and he held it until we got to my doorway. Everything came spilling out of me. My concerns about what to tell my family when I got home. My voice, which was never going to be the same. My promise to Enzo and wondering what he might make me do one day.
"I wish I could answer all your questions," he said, looking down at me. "But I have a feeling that you're going to figure everything out." He brushed hair away from my forehead. "We're going to stay in touch, right?" he asked, softly. "You are definitely someone I don't want to lose track of."
"Absolutely," I said, kissing his cheek.
"Will you call me? After you get back to Canada. I just want to know how things go for you. You know, with your family and stuff."
"Sure, I will. But you know what I really want?" I said, looking up at him.
"What's that?"
"I want to pretend I'm just a normal girl for a while. You still owe me a night of The Godfather." I unlocked the door.
"Sounds great," he said, "but no kissing during the scene at the beginning where Marlon Brando has the cat on his lap. That's the best part." He pulled the corners of his mouth down and made an impressive Don Corleone impression. "You come into my house on the day my daughter is to be married, and you ask me to murder for money."
I laughed. "Whatever. I'm so giving you the sloppiest kiss, right in your ear."
He cracked a smile, and closed the door behind us.
Epilogue
"Good bye, Isaia." I crouched down and held out my arms to him.
The noise and bustle of the airport melted away as his warm body stepped into the circle of my arms. I was amazed at how much he had changed since the beginning of the summer. He'd been a tiny, malnourished-looking boy with pale skin and haunted black eyes. Now he was wiry with new muscle, and at least half an inch taller. His skin was brown from the sun and his black eyes glittered with mischief. He gave me a kiss on the cheek and stepped back.