Century #4: Dragon of Seas (31 page)

“Please,” he tells her, lowering his voice, “trust me.”

Mistral stares at the faces of all the guests at the party. In particular, those of Madame Cocot and Professor Ganglof, who appear to be burning with curiosity. Her face flushed, she clutches the score and, in the two seconds that follow, wishes she knew the magic formula for disappearing.

“Brava!” Harvey and Elettra start cheering, to encourage her.

Mistral smiles and tries to spot them among all the faces, but she can’t find them. Still, the ice has been broken.

She opens the score and begins to sing, her voice slowly growing louder. She discovers it’s a sweet melody that flows with grace and power through the shadows of the courtyard and the string of blinking lights, rising up to the wooden balcony and the windows on the top floors, all the way to the four statues that peer down like owls.

Mistral sings a simple, perfect harmony, and as they listen, all those present have the feeling they already know the song, even if this is the first time they’ve ever heard it. And as her voice weaves its spell, they all gradually hear the mesmerizing notes of a violin joining it. But no matter how hard they look for the mysterious violinist, they can’t see anyone playing. Not even a shadow of him, or a glimpse of his steely-gray hair.

Mistral allows the sound of the violin to pervade her and, to her own amazement, lets the shivers running down her spine give her energy, transforming them into voice. She continues to sing, with hope. And as she sings, somewhere deep in her heart, she ends up thinking that it isn’t too late. People can change. Everything can change. The same instrument can be used to do evil or to do good. It depends on the mind of the person using it.

Mistral sings, accompanied by Jacob Mahler’s violin. And for a few long moments, everything seems perfect.

When the song is over, the silence that follows is so intense that the little lights can be heard blinking on and off. Sheng discovers
he has tears in his eyes. He moves before anyone else does. Once again, he leaves the courtyard of the Domus Quintilia.

And he finds an unexpected gift on the ground.

A case.

A violin.

And its razor-sharp bow.

Which will never be used again.

L
ATER THAT NIGHT, WHEN THE PARTY IN HONOR OF
A
LFRED
V
AN
Der Berger is over, Cybel’s waiters clear the tables. And six people are in the secret room right below them. They can hear the wait-staff’s footsteps and voices through the grate over the well, but, protected by the basement’s thick walls, they know they can talk without being overheard.

“It’s up to you now,” Aunt Irene begins, looking at the four kids. “Isn’t that right, Vladimir?”

The antiques dealer nods. “Yes, it’s up to you to agree to do it or not.”

“I accept,” Elettra replies, her mind made up. “I like the idea of aging slower than other people.”

“One year for every four,” Sheng says. “Being born on February twenty-ninth is cool! If I try hard, I could end up being four hundred years old.”

“It isn’t as simple as that,” Irene says. “The possibility of aging more slowly depends on the power within us … and on how well Nature manages to help us pave the way for those who’ll come later.”

“Look at what terrible shape I’m in after only a hundred and ten years,” Vladimir jokes, sitting down on the edge of the desk.

The group laughs.

“Of course, we aren’t giving ourselves an easy task,” Mistral points out. Then, when everyone stares at her, she adds, “We need to hide the four objects in four cities again, choose our successors—”

“Hao!”
Sheng exclaims, cutting her off. “There’s something I always wanted to ask you guys: when the four of you chose us … I mean, them …”

“Sheng …”

Sheng smiles. “What did you choose first, the cities or us?”

“The cities were chosen by our masters and by their masters before them,” Vladimir replies.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, when the time comes, you’ll know what to do. That’s why you have the tops.”

“A hundred years,” Harvey says to the others. “I don’t know if we can even imagine.…”

“A hundred years isn’t long at all, you’ll see,” Aunt Irene chimes in with a smile. “Especially if we really want to change the way people think … and make our planet dream again.”

“But … you aren’t going to leave us all on our own, are you?” Sheng asks, sensing that they’re drawing close to some kind of goodbye.

“In theory, when the pupils have become as good as—and better than—their teachers, it’s best for the teachers to step aside,” Vladimir replies.

“But there are still hundreds of things we don’t know!” Elettra protests.

“Mithra, Isis, all those gods …,” Mistral says, beside her.

“And the Egyptian calendar,” Sheng adds, “with all that stuff about the year with four eclipses …”

“Not to mention that wandering planet called Nibiru,” Harvey concludes, “which should be coming back here in a hundred years or so.”

The two elderly Sages look at each other, hesitant.

“Well?” Elettra insists. “If we accept the Pact, are you going to help us or aren’t you?”

“If only Alfred were still here,” Vladimir grumbles as he gets up from the table, almost angry. “He was the one who studied the Pact better than the rest of us. He understood the connection with the stars and the legends of the ancient Chaldeans.…”

“We’ve got Ermete for that,” Sheng says. “Well? Why are you all staring at me? He might not be one of the four chosen ones or the four masters, but he knows more bizarre facts than the rest of us put together.”

“Sheng is right,” Mistral says. “We never would’ve managed to get anywhere without his help.”

“Not to mention your mom’s,” Elettra tells Mistral.

“And my dad’s, too,” Harvey says. “Now that he’s convinced he needs to do something to try and restore our planet’s health, he’s on our side. As long as we don’t get him wrapped up in anything even remotely … supernatural.”

“My father’s got a bunch of discounts for airlines and hotels all around the world,” Sheng adds. “If we need to travel the globe
to hide a Ring of Fire or a Veil of Isis, that could always come in handy.…”

The others nod, convinced.

They make a nice team. One that’s reckless and inconsistent, sure. Or maybe just unpredictable and brilliant.

Sheng lets out a loud yawn. “Guys, I really need to get some sleep now.”

“Me too,” Mistral says.

“Tired of chatting with your organ-playing friend?”

“Hey, Sheng?” Elettra breaks in. “You wouldn’t happen to be jealous, would you?”

Sheng pretends to yawn a second time and gets up from his chair.

“Just a moment,” Irene says, calling him back. “It’s time for each of you to take custody of your object.”

“Now?” Elettra grumbles. “Can’t we do it tomorrow, Auntie?”

“It’s better to do it right away. Where are they?”

“We put them all in here,” Elettra replies, picking up Nik Knife’s backpack from the ground.

A moment later, the Ring of Fire, the Star of Stone and the Pearl of the Sea Dragon are on the table.

“What about the Veil of Isis?” Mistral asks, noticing that her object is missing.

Elettra feels around the bottom of the backpack. “I don’t understand,” she mumbles. “I’m sure it was in here.”

Then she’s struck by a horrible doubt. “Harvey!”

“What?”

“When you got here, where did you put the backpack?”

“In your room. Why?”

“No! Aunt Linda!” Elettra cries, racing out of the underground room.

She crosses the hallway in a flash, dives into the elevator and jabs the buttons, punching in the secret combination to make it go back upstairs. She throws open the iron doors and bursts into her aunt’s room.

“Auntie!” she cries.

Linda is sitting on the edge of the puff chair in front of her dressing table and is taking off her earrings. Despite the chill, her window is wide open, as if to air out the room.

“Elettra, dear!” she exclaims, glancing at the girl. “You’re covered with dust! Have you been rolling around in the streets with the stray cats?”

“That’s not funny!” Elettra snaps. “Where did you put the Veil of Isis?”

“The veil of what?”

Her makeup from the party still impeccable, the woman rests her second earring on the dressing table, lining it up with the first one.

Elettra insists. “It was in my room, in Harvey’s backpack, and it was there until this afternoon when we went out to plant the tree!”

“Oh, of course!” Linda Melodia finally exclaims, perfectly calm. “You mean that old filthy-dirty sheet?”

“Auntie …”

“It’s downstairs in the linen closet, washed and pressed.”

“Oh, no … Auntie, no …”

“And scented with lavender!”

Elettra slumps against the door, shocked.

This is a catastrophe
, she thinks.
A centuries-old relic has undergone Aunt Linda’s antibacterial treatment. It might be totally useless now
.

But as a world of thoughts races around in her mind, she hears, through the open window and the well in the courtyard, the unmistakable sound of laughter.

“This is a joke, isn’t it?” she asks, full of hope. “You guys are just playing a joke on me?”

Linda Melodia strokes Elettra’s hair, smiling. “What if we were?”