City of Secrets (13 page)

‘What happened?' she asked, when they were all sitting down with a murky cup of hospital coffee. She reached over and spooned two sugars into Matt's, even though she knew he didn't take it.

‘That's really what we want to know,' said Chay. ‘What's wrong with Jago?'

‘They don't know,' said Ayesha wearily. ‘At first his parents thought it was a sudden dose of flu. He's got a high temperature and he keeps shivering and then saying he's too hot.'

‘Can't they give him something?' asked Chay.

‘They are,' said Ayesha. ‘But it's not working. They thought it might be meningitis and they've put him on strong antibiotics but he's still delirious. But before he went into the ICU, he mentioned your name, Matt.'

‘What exactly did he say?' asked Matt.

‘He said, “your ex is a nutter”,' said Ayesha brutally. ‘And I want to know what he meant.'

Enrico did not stay sweet-smelling for long but his wash and brush-up and his new clothes, not to mention a good square meal, had made a new man of him. And the Bellezzan had slipped him some silver too. The spy's lodgings on the far side of the swamp didn't cost much, so that he had enough money to keep himself in food for a few days and he was determined to earn more.

He had set himself to tailing Filippo of Bellona and now knew where he lived. Indeed the young di Chimici was now being followed from his home near the cathedral to the university building. Enrico watched while he went into the university offices and later came out with what looked like a list of some kind.

Enrico edged a little nearer and overheard Filippo asking for directions to a Rhetoric lecture by Professor Constantin; that made him prick up his ears. He knew that Luciano studied with that professor. There was no way that even a clean version of Enrico would be allowed into a university lecture room but he hung around outside chewing his nails until the students came out.

As he ducked behind a column in the courtyard, he saw that Filippo was deep in conversation with the young Bellezzan. He might have been worried if he could have heard their conversation.

‘Do I have the honour of addressing the Cavaliere Crinamorte?' Filippo had asked Luciano, as soon as Constantin's lecture was over. Luciano had recognised the di Chimici as soon as he entered the lecture hall and was intrigued that he had sought him out.

‘At your service,' he said, making a formal bow.

Filippo bowed too, while Enrico watched this exchange of courtesies from behind his pillar.

‘May I introduce myself? I am Filippo di Chimici, son of Prince Jacopo of Bellona. I come from Giglia where I have been staying with my sister Francesca and her husband Gaetano.'

At the mention of Gaetano, Luciano's suspicions were allayed. There had been a time when he and Duke Niccolò's third son seemed to be rivals for Arianna, but now that Gaetano was married to Francesca and Luciano engaged to marry Arianna, he felt nothing but affection for him.

‘How are they,' he said cordially. ‘I am very pleased to have recent news of them. I'm sure you understand that I can't visit them at present.'

‘They are very well,' said Filippo. ‘And Gaetano sends you his warmest good wishes,' he improvised. ‘He says you became good friends in Remora.'

‘We did,' said Luciano, pleased that Filippo wasn't taking up his allusion to the old Grand Duke's death. Perhaps this was another di Chimici he could be friends with? He certainly didn't look like Gaetano; Filippo was cast more in the mould of the older princes of the family's senior branch, tall and handsome, with finely-moulded features. Not like Gaetano, who could be thought ugly by those who didn't know him.

On impulse Luciano invited him to dine but Filippo was insistent that the Bellezzan should be his guest.

Enrico watched the two young men leave the courtyard and slouched after them. All his instincts told him this was wrong.

Matt had thought that Ayesha was concerned about him but now he realised that she was in a cold fury. He had no idea what to say to her. It was one thing to admit what he'd done to Chay, who had no idea what he was talking about, but he had no intention of trying to describe the Jettatura to his girlfriend – his
ex
-girlfriend, as he must learn to think of her.

So he said nothing and stirred his coffee so hard it looked as if he might break the cup, while Chay babbled on.

‘He didn't touch him, Yesh. I already asked him. He went round to see him but he didn't lay a finger on him.'

‘And why did you go to his house, Matt?' said Ayesha intently.

‘Even if he
had
hit him,' Chay was carrying on. ‘It couldn't have given him meningitis, or whatever it is.'

‘They don't think it's meningitis any more,' she said wearily, dropping her gaze from Matt's face at last. ‘They're doing tests for tropical diseases now.'

‘There you are then!' said Chay triumphantly. ‘Matt couldn't have given him one of those, could he?'

‘I don't know,' said Ayesha quietly. ‘I don't know what Matt is capable of any more. He has been acting weirdly for days. Ever since his birthday.'

Matt still hadn't said anything.

‘Maybe his new friends could tell me something,' said Ayesha. ‘Anything that will help Jago.'

And she got up and left them.

William Dethridge was surprised by a knock on the door of the study in Silvia's old house. It was where Luciano wrote his essays and he felt most at home in its book-lined comfort.

‘There's a man to see you, Dottore,' said Alfredo. ‘One of the Zinti.'

‘Showe him in,' said Dethridge. ‘Yt semes we are notte to be joined by yonge Lucian for suppire. Maybe the Manoush wille sup with us in his stede.'

Ludo came in and bowed. He had been told by Aurelio that Luciano's foster-father was a very learned and distinguished man.

‘Wel y-come, yonge manne,' said Dethridge, raising him up and clasping his hand.

‘Greetings,' said Ludo. ‘I am Ludovico Vivoide, known as Ludo. I think you have met my cousins Aurelio and Raffaella?'

‘Aye, ladde, I ken them,' said Dethridge. ‘And am ryghte gladde to mete anothire of their kin.'

‘Is the Cavaliere at home?' asked Ludo.

‘I have notte seene him since he lefte for his classe this aftire noone,' said Dethridge. ‘Bot he is yonge. He moste notte fele thatte he needes to spend every even with an olde manne lyke me.'

Ludo frowned. ‘Of course. But how would you know if he were in any danger?'

Dethridge looked up, worried.

‘Nay, I wolde notte knowe. Bot I colde cast the stones,' he said at last. Looking at Ludo, he spread a black velvet cloth on the table and took a bag of polished glass stones from his pocket. On closer inspection it could be seen that each glass stone held a silver symbol of some kind inside it, but unlike Rodolfo's set, these were made of green rather than purple glass.

‘See,' said Dethridge. ‘I knowe notte yf ye use this method of descrying the future amonge your folke bot I always try yt whenne I am in doubte.'

‘I have heard of this,' said Ludo, ‘but among the Manoush we use cornstalks and see what pattern they fall into. Or the cards.'

They looked at the glass stones together.

The first contained a silver skull, the next a dagger. Then there was a crown, two fishes, a cat, a mask and a single eye.

‘This reading likes me notte,' said Dethridge, now worried. ‘I wille see what the cardes saye.'

He swept the stones back into his bag and took out a pack of Corteo cards.

Ludo settled down to watch, his chin in his hand.

Chapter 13

Tipping the Scales

Georgia couldn't have been more surprised to see Ayesha on her doorstep. The younger girl was looking haunted and anxious, her beauty masked by dark bruises under her eyes and her unwashed hair scraped back into a ponytail.

‘Hi,' said Georgia. ‘Come in. Are you OK?'

Ayesha stepped indoors as if sleepwalking. ‘Not really,' she said. ‘I've come to ask for your help.'

Georgia's mother and stepfather were both at work and Georgia had the house to herself. She took Ayesha into the kitchen and made her some tea. She had no doubt that the coming conversation was going to be difficult.

‘What do you think I can do to help you?' she asked. ‘What is it that's wrong anyway?'

‘Do you know that Matt and I have broken up?' asked Ayesha.

Georgia felt a surge of relief. Perhaps this girl had simply come to her for some relationship advice. Though even that thought made Georgia smile; she was hardly qualified to be an agony aunt.

‘No, I didn't know,' she said. ‘I haven't seen Matt since Sunday. Sorry to hear it.'

‘That's part of the problem,' said Ayesha. ‘You saw him at the weekend and I didn't. He seems to spend more time with you and Nick than with me. And I was supposed to be his girlfriend.'

‘Is that why you broke up?' asked Georgia, remembering a time when Alice had been jealous of her relationship with Sky, not knowing that they were both Stravaganti.

‘That's part of it,' said Ayesha. ‘And at first it wasn't exactly a break-up. I said we needed a cooling-off period. But it's much worse now. You know Jago?'

Of course Georgia did. Everyone in her year knew the star English student, and she and Alice were both a bit annoyed by all the attention he got. And she knew that he and Ayesha had once been an item. She realised that this was about more than a break-up.

‘What about him?' she asked.

‘He's in hospital,' said Ayesha. ‘In Intensive Care. Matt got it into his head that I was, well, getting back together with Jago and he went round to see him.'

Georgia had a vision of an angry Matt looming over the slender Jago. She winced.

‘No, not like that,' said Ayesha. ‘At least, he swears he didn't hit him. But I think he did something worse.'

She hesitated. Now that she was here, she didn't know how she was going to ask what she needed to know.

‘He's been acting strangely ever since his birthday,' she said eventually. ‘About the same time that he got friendly with you and the others.'

‘In what way strangely?' asked Georgia, dreading what was coming.

‘Look,' said Ayesha. ‘Is he – are you – involved in some sort of cult?'

Is that what the Stravaganti are, thought Georgia. It was certainly how they might seem to an outsider – a secret brotherhood with more than human abilities. But Ayesha hadn't waited for an answer.

‘I mean, it's your own business, of course,' she rushed on. ‘But if Matt's put some sort of, well, spell on Jago, I need to know. The doctors can't cure him if they don't know what's wrong.' She dropped her head in her hands. ‘I can't believe I'm even saying these things. But everyone's at their wits' end. And I'm scared that Jago is going to die.'

Now that she had said it, Ayesha started to cry. Georgia felt terrible. She grabbed a box of tissues from the counter then picked up the phone and dialled Nick's number.

‘Is that a normal pattern?' Ludo asked Dethridge when he had finished laying out the thirteen Corteo cards.

Dethridge shook his head.

‘There is notte sich a thynge with the arraye of cardes,' he said. ‘Yt is different every tyme. Bot yt is an interestynge one.'

They leaned over the cards together. Starting at the middle left of the circle was the Book, one of the Major Arcana. The cards had been laid out face up and counter-sunwise, as was the traditional method. Next to the Book was a number card, the Ten of Salamanders, and then the Prince of Fishes. In the bottom position at the base of the circle was the card with the Moving Stars.

Both men studied the pattern intently.

‘Do you take more notice of the Arcana?' asked Ludo, looking at the Scales, the Magician, the Lovers, Moon and Death, which were also part of the reading.

‘Al wayes whenne the centre one is one of the Great Cardes, we think yt signifyeth some import,' said Dethridge, pointing to the Scales, which was the last card looking up at them from the centre of the array. ‘And the thirteenth carde colours the humoure of the reading, as ye knowe.'

‘So what do you think that means?' asked Ludo.

‘Atte this tyme and in this place,' said Dethridge, ‘I think it meaneth the law and justice.'

‘The new laws?' said Ludo. ‘Is that why Death is there opposite the Book?'

‘I hope notte in the waye ye meane,' said Dethridge. ‘He is a skeletone so mayhap is connected with the anatomistes here, rathire thanne the dethe penaltie.'

‘And what is the Book?' asked Ludo. ‘The first card is always important, isn't it?'

The Elizabethan nodded. ‘I have an idea about thatte bot moste notte saye. I canne telle ye though thatte the Prince and Princess of Fyshes are yonge Lucian and the Duchess of Bellezza. They are the lovires, who are also here.'

‘But does it give you any idea if Luciano is in danger?' asked Ludo. ‘My cousin Aurelio sent me with a warning to him.'

‘I thynke notte,' said Dethridge. ‘He is not close to the Deathe sygne and the sworde is notte here.'

‘But the Death card is the thirteenth Arcanum, isn't it?' asked Ludo. ‘And it's right there beside the thirteenth card, with the next being the Magician. I would read that as the death penalty for magic.'

‘Mayhap,' said Dethridge, scooping the cards up quickly and wrapping them in a piece of black silk. ‘And if thatte you are ryghte, we had best hide our means of divinatioun awaye.'

*

Luciano had a surprisingly good time with Filippo di Chimici. He was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Filippo really was ‘one of the good ones', like Gaetano, Falco and Francesca. Filippo could be very charming when he put his mind to it and he plied Luciano with the best food and drink that di Chimici wealth could supply in Padavia.

But even though he had consumed a good deal of the Bellezzan red, which made him feel at home, Luciano kept his head. He did not know how much Gaetano had told his new brother-in-law about the Stravaganti and his years in Talia had taught him that it was dangerous to reveal anything about them.

‘What do you think about the new laws against magic?' Filippo asked and Luciano immediately felt he must walk on eggshells with his reply.

‘I don't really know much about it,' said Luciano untruthfully. ‘I suppose it depends on the kind of magic. Some of it is obviously bad, like putting curses on people, but surely some is helpful? Spells to cure illnesses, for instance?'

‘I agree with you,' said Filippo. ‘The law can be a blunt instrument, and it doesn't distinguish between kinds of magic.'

‘And I think it's a pity that it's all got mixed up with religion,' said Luciano. ‘The goddess stuff, I don't know much about it but I don't see what the harm in it is.'

‘Careful,' said Filippo. ‘That's dangerous talk now, in this city and many others.' But he was smiling and Luciano still didn't feel any threat from him.

‘I could do with some magic myself,' sighed Filippo.

‘Why?'

‘Well, my life is just coasting along. In a way I am waiting for my father to die and that is awful,' said Filippo, hastily crossing himself. ‘I have no role in Bellona. My father makes all the decisions and he is not even teaching me how to be a good successor to him. And since Francesca went to Giglia there is no other young person to talk to about it. It might be different if I had a wife.'

‘Do you not think of marrying then?' asked Luciano.

‘I have thought of it,' said Filippo. ‘But for one of our family it is important to have the approval of its head. That is my cousin Fabrizio now, of course, and he has had much on his mind. There is no one that I think of marrying at present.'

Luciano felt they were in dangerous waters with talk of the head of the family but was startled when Filippo suddenly asked, ‘And what about yourself? I heard a rumour about the young Duchessa of Bellezza?'

Luciano looked at Filippo's handsome and open face and decided that, if he knew already, it couldn't hurt to agree.

‘Our engagement is a secret at present,' he said, aware that this was not only a di Chimici but a man five years older than him. ‘But, yes, you are right. When my year at the University here is over, we shall be married.'

‘Quite right to wait,' said Filippo pleasantly. ‘I have spent time at the fine old University of Bellona myself. One cannot rush the education of a prince.'

Luciano suddenly felt very inferior. Although his marriage would make him a duke consort, he wasn't from a noble family in either world and he often felt a fake in Talia. For the first time he wondered who might have been his wife back in his old life. A picture of a girl with stripey hair crossed his mind before he suppressed it.

‘Tell me about your family,' said Filippo. ‘I think you know much about mine.'

This time Luciano was ready. He had a cover story that he was the orphaned son of Rodolfo's cousin in Padavia.

‘Yet you are not the Regent's foster-son, I believe?'

‘No. When Rodolfo saw how matters lay between his daughter and myself, the scientist Guglielmo Crinamorte and his wife Leonora offered to become my foster-parents.'

‘Very proper,' said Filippo. ‘I have heard something of this Dottore Crinamorte. Was he not originally from Anglia?'

‘Indeed,' said Luciano. ‘Though he has long made his life in Talia.'

Filippo felt that he had probed enough for their first meeting and turned the conversation to more general matters. When Luciano left the palazzo, slightly unsteady on his feet, he felt that he had made a new friend.

On his way home, though, a familiar scent assailed him and a much less reputable acquaintance fell into step beside him.

‘Nice evening?' inquired Enrico.

‘Very pleasant, thank you,' said Luciano, slightly annoyed.

‘A word to the wise,' said Enrico, tapping the side of his nose. ‘It doesn't do to get too pally with that lot.'

‘Do you mean the di Chimici?' said Luciano. ‘I know that many of them are not to be trusted but Gaetano is one of my best friends. And so was poor Falco.'

‘And what did that lead to?' asked Enrico. ‘Suicide on the one hand and a rash of murders on the other. All I'm saying is, be careful. And let me see what I can find out about this one.'

‘All right,' said Luciano. It still felt strange to have Enrico working on his side but it couldn't do any harm to discover a bit more about the Bellonan.