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Authors: Mary Hoffman

BOOK: City of Secrets
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‘We've got to tell her something,' whispered Georgia as she let Nick in. ‘She looks dreadful. And we've got to find out what Matt's been up to.'

‘Hold on,' said Nick. ‘Do you mean we've got to tell her about stravagation? Remember how that went down with Alice?'

They went into the kitchen, where Ayesha was still stirring her cold tea. She looked up with tired eyes.

‘Oh, hi,' she said. ‘You're Nick, aren't you? One of Matt's new friends.' Her face twisted so that suddenly she didn't look beautiful at all. ‘Please tell me what's been going on.'

Nick was moved by her obvious distress but he still felt unsure. When they'd told Alice their secret six months ago, she hadn't believed them. Then she'd insisted on stravagating herself and he didn't think Matt would want Ayesha following him to Padavia.

‘How much has Georgia told you?' he hedged.

‘Nothing,' said Ayesha bitterly. ‘No one will tell me anything and someone's going to die if you don't.'

Nick looked at Georgia, startled.

‘Ayesha thinks that Matt has done something to Jago Jones,' she said. ‘He's in Intensive Care and the doctors don't know what's wrong with him.'

There was enough in their histories about mysterious illnesses and unexplained deaths for Nick to realise how serious this was. But he couldn't understand what it could have to do with Matt's mission in Padavia – whatever that was.

‘I don't see how what Matt's been doing could have affected this Jago,' he said. ‘But we'll tell you if you like.'

He looked at Georgia, who nodded.

‘Matt is a Stravagante and so are we – Sky too. You won't know what that means but it's a kind of traveller in time and space.'

‘What? Like Doctor Who?' said Ayesha, looking angry. ‘What do you take me for? I've been going out with him for three months and I KNOW him. He's a big, soft, dyslexic rugger player who's a great kisser and good with computers – not some alien Time Lord.'

‘We were all just like you and everyone else till we were chosen,' said Georgia. ‘At least, apart from Nick, but that's another story. There are these talismans that sort of seek out people of our age who are feeling miserable for some reason. And if we use them, we can get to Talia, which is like another kind of Italy only in the sixteenth century.'

‘Was Matt miserable?' asked Nick.

Ayesha didn't answer straight away; they could see she was taking them more seriously now.

‘It's true he doesn't have much self-confidence,' she said at last. ‘And he was always so worried about whether I really liked him. He was always jealous of Jago – you know we used to go out?'

‘Yes,' said Georgia. ‘And then you and Matt quarrelled and you seem to be very caught up with Jago again.'

‘But that was only yesterday,' said Ayesha. ‘Yesterday! I can't believe how everything's changed in such a short time. But Matt was acting strangely before that and he's been hanging out with you guys for over a week. Are you telling me that this strav— thing has been going on all that time?'

‘It must have been nearly two weeks ago,' said Nick. ‘That was when we realised that Matt had a talisman. Georgia and I were there when he picked it up.'

‘We're getting used to spotting them now,' said Georgia.

‘But what has he been
doing
in this other place?' asked Ayesha. ‘Have you been going there with him?'

‘No,' said Georgia. ‘We don't go there any more. Nor does Sky.'

‘He's been working in a printer's,' said Nick.

‘Why?' asked Ayesha. ‘I mean, I can't believe any of this but a printer's is the last place I'd expect him to go. And what would that have to do with the state Jago's in?'

‘That I don't know,' said Nick. ‘You'd have to ask Matt.'

As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Georgia let in a wild-eyed Matt. He groaned when he saw Ayesha.

‘Yesh . . .' he began but Nick interrupted him.

‘She knows, Matt. We had to tell her.'

Matt turned his bloodshot eyes on Nick, appalled.

‘But how come? I mean, how do you know what I did?'

‘We only told her about stravagation,' said Georgia.

‘Well?' asked Ayesha. ‘What did you do exactly?'

When he got home, Luciano was surprised to find Ludo companionably drinking ale with his foster-father as if they had known each other all their lives. The rusty-haired Manoush had been playing on his flute and Dethridge had clearly enjoyed his visit.

‘I'm sorry I wasn't home for supper,' said Luciano. ‘But you don't seem to have lacked company.'

‘Aye, never feare ladde,' said Dethridge. ‘We have been entertaining eche othire wondrous well. Bot where were ye?'

‘I had dinner with Filippo di Chimici,' said Luciano. ‘He's attending some classes at the University.'

Ludo looked at him with worry in his grey eyes. ‘Were you careful? Remember my cousin's warning.'

Luciano felt a bit annoyed as well as rather drunk. Hadn't he been the model of discretion?

‘Not all di Chimici are bad,' he said. ‘And Filippo is Francesca's brother. We had a good time together.'

‘And whatte did ye converse about?' asked Dethridge.

‘All sorts of things,' said Luciano, uneasy under this cross-questioning. ‘Our studies, Gaetano and Francesca, marriage.'

‘Marriage?' said Ludo.

‘Yes, he wishes he had a bride in prospect,' said Luciano. ‘I think he's a bit lonely since his sister left home. He says he's got nothing to do until his father dies.'

That had come out worse than he meant.

‘Beware the heir?' said Ludo softly.

‘But he talked about a lot of other things too,' Luciano hurried on. ‘The magic laws for one thing. He doesn't agree with them.'

‘Interesting,' said Dethridge. ‘In especial for thatte his cozin introduced them. But yonge Ludovic and I have bene talking about them too. I read the cardes in a spread of thirteen.'

‘For me?' asked Luciano, who knew it wasn't the usual day in the month when his foster-father and Rodolfo did their divinations. He had been getting into the habit of doing them too but it was always at New Moon and that had been a few days ago; Luciano had forgotten all about it this October.

‘Aye,' said Dethridge. ‘Just to ensure thatte ye were saufe.'

‘And was I?' asked Luciano.

‘Ludovic thynkes not,' said Dethridge.

‘There was the Death card,' said Ludo. ‘And yours. And many other things I could not understand. I am not an expert like Dottore Crinamorte but I am afraid for you.'

Chapter 14

Two Nights

Jan Wood and Vicky Mulholland took turns sitting with Celia Jones at her son's bedside. The three women had been friends since their children were at primary school and they had been part of the same babysitting circle. It was particularly hard for Vicky to be back in ICU, even though it was three years now since Lucien had died there.

She firmly pushed the memory down; Jago was not going to die. It was nothing like the situation with Lucien. Jago hadn't got cancer. But no one knew what was wrong with him and that was what was so devastating for Celia. When Vicky arrived to be with her that night, Matt's mother was doing her best to comfort their friend.

‘At least he's no worse,' Jan was saying. ‘The doctors think he's stabilised. And the longer he's stable, the more tests they have time for.'

Celia looked ten years older than she had twenty-four hours ago. Vicky recognised the signs.

‘Jan's right,' she said. ‘You must stay positive.'

Jan fetched them both some coffee from the machine before heading for home. To her surprise, Ayesha was there. Jan hadn't known what was going on between Matt and his girlfriend but she did know that Ayesha hadn't been around much lately and she had seemed terribly concerned about Jago, more than just a friend would be.

Now she was in the kitchen helping Harry cook dinner. He was chattering on blithely about school orchestra, oblivious of the tension between Ayesha and Matt, which it took Jan only seconds to pick up.

Not for the first time, Jan wished her husband had a more ordinary job, one that meant he could eat dinner with his family; it was extraordinary how often quarrels broke out over a meal.

‘Hi, Ayesha. Are you eating with us?' she said brightly. ‘How's the food coming, Harry?'

‘Fine, Mum,' said Harry. ‘It's only heating up really. Yesh did the beans. And I put an extra potato in the oven because I thought she might stay.'

He beamed round at them. Thank God Harry hasn't started on girlfriends yet, thought Jan.

‘Would you lay the table, Matt?' she said. ‘We'll eat in the dining room.'

‘I'll give him a hand,' said Ayesha.

Jan hoped they would sort out whatever it was soon.

That peasant boy is back, thought Enrico, who had taken to hanging round outside Luciano's lodgings. It hadn't taken him long to find out where the Bellezzan lived; his skills of detection had returned with his better fortune. Enrico knew the young Bellezzan didn't trust him any more than did the stable-boy from Remora did. But Enrico was fascinated by Luciano. The very fact that the Bellezzan hadn't hauled him off to the authorities counted in his favour. Yet Enrico had been part of a plot to kill him. Luciano must know by now that the foils had been tampered with at the duel. And that no one but Enrico could have smeared the poison on the Duke's blade. But the Bellezzan had given him food, clothes and some money and Enrico now owed him a debt.

The peasant boy wasn't alone this time; he was accompanied by an armed ruffian, no better dressed than himself, who was clearly keeping an eye out for the younger boy.

Funny, thought Enrico. How often did a peasant travel with an armed guard? The door of Luciano's house opened and the two were let in. At the same time a tall young man with red-brown hair and a black cloak slipped out. Enrico was torn for a moment but decided to follow the rusty-headed stranger.

Inside the house Luciano and Arianna were blissfully unaware of their new grubby guardian angel. Dethridge, who had been kept informed by Rodolfo, was not deceived by the masculine disguise and tactfully withdrew.

‘Who was that leaving?' asked Arianna, when they had finally pulled apart, a little breathlessly. ‘I thought he looked familiar.'

‘Only because he's Manoush,' said Luciano. ‘He's a new one – Ludo – and he brought me a message from Aurelio.'

‘What message?'

‘Oh, you know, the usual sort of thing – just to be careful of the di Chimici and beware of danger. But he's in worse danger than I am. You've heard about the new anti-magic laws being brought in here too?'

‘Yes,' said Arianna. ‘Antonio sent word.'

Looking at her in her coarse canvas breeches and homespun shirt, Luciano found it hard to remember that she was the elected ruler of Bellezza, who would have to be kept informed about Padavian laws, as the city was her near neighbour and ally.

‘It would affect all the Manoush, wouldn't it?' she continued. ‘All this clamping down on goddess-worship.' The fingers of her right hand began to curl but she unclenched them. The Duchessa had learned not to make the hand of fortune sign, common among the people of the lagoon.

‘The whole reason they are here is to worship the goddess,' said Luciano. He went over to the window, whose shutters were open to the October night. ‘It's half-moon tonight. In five days' time they begin to celebrate their Day of the Dead. However quietly they set about it, they'll be open to prosecution under the new laws.'

‘What was Ludo doing here?' asked Arianna.

‘I think he was trying to keep the Dottore company,' said Luciano. ‘I've only just got back from dining with Filippo di Chimici.'

Arianna's eyebrows flew up under her fisherman's cap.

‘It's OK,' said Luciano. ‘I'm sure he's one of the good ones.'

‘So you'll do it?' insisted Ayesha, as she and Matt clattered about his dining room with plates and cutlery.

‘I said I would, didn't I?' he said. ‘You can stay and watch me if you want.'

‘All right,' said Ayesha. ‘I will.'

Matt was surprised; he hadn't expected her to agree. Ever since the scene at Georgia's, when he had been forced to tell her about putting the evil eye on Jago, Matt had felt afraid of Ayesha. She hadn't screamed at him. In fact at first she had laughed and her contempt had been worse than her anger. She clearly hadn't thought him capable of doing something so powerful, even though she had made the connection between Jago's condition and Matt's new secret life.

But gradually he had realised that she hadn't underestimated him; if anything she had done the opposite. She had simply not believed that he could do anything so petty and mean.

They got through the meal somehow, with Harry chatting on cheerfully and Jan keeping a watchful eye on them. Then they pretended to watch a TV documentary about global warming, which was enough to account for their sombre mood. Even Harry's enthusiasm had been dampened down. When the phone rang, Jan was relieved to leave the room.

It was Vicky, who had left the ICU briefly to call with an update on Jago.

‘No change,' said Jan, when she came off the phone. ‘Are you going back to the hospital tonight, Ayesha,' she asked awkwardly. ‘Or . . . ?'

‘I'd like to stay here, if that's OK?' said Ayesha politely.

So they're back on, thought Jan. They don't seem very happy about it. Perhaps they'll stay up all night having what we used to call a ‘deep-and-meaningful'. She suddenly felt old and wished that Andy was here to talk to about it. But it was no good worrying; she had to be up early to fetch her aunt from the station.

Matt didn't know where he stood with Ayesha any more. He felt shy undressing in front of her and getting into bed but he couldn't turn up in Padavia in more than his underwear because his robes would have to fit over it. She lay on top of the covers fully clothed, watching everything he did.

‘Where's this talisman-thing, then?' she asked.

Matt brought the leather-bound book out from under his pillow. Ayesha took it in her hands and slowly unwound the brown leather strap from round it.

‘How does it work?' she asked, impressed in spite of herself. ‘You don't have to read it, do you?'

Matt winced. ‘I can't,' he said. ‘It's all in their version of Latin.'

‘But you knew how to put that spell on Jago.'

‘Professor Constantin told me about it.'

‘What does he teach at this university of yours, then?' she asked. ‘Black magic?'

‘He didn't teach me about it – I said he
told
me. And he didn't know I could do it. He warned me against trying, in fact. He's a teacher of Rhetoric – that's like sort of argument and logic.'

‘I know what it is,' said Ayesha. ‘We learn about it in Law. Barristers still have to know the basics – they haven't changed since Aristotle or someone.'

It was good to have her in his room again, on his bed, talking to him, even though she probably hated him now and was looking like shit. Is this what it is to love someone, Matt wondered. Not caring what they felt about you or how they looked? Just knowing them and wanting to be with them and wanting them to think well of you?

He wondered whether to tell her that the counter-spell for the Jettatura was in the book she held in her hands. If she had known Latin, she could probably have worked it out for herself and saved Jago without him. He couldn't remember enough about it himself – something about olive oil and salt. It sounded more like a recipe than a spell.

He had warned her that there wouldn't be anything much to see when he stravagated but in the end she was so exhausted that she fell asleep before him. He longed to put his arms round her but restrained himself. She wasn't here for sex or love; she was more like a UN inspector at a foreign election, wanting to see fair play.

If she had stayed awake, she would have heard his breath slowing but there would have been no other sign that the essence of him had slipped away to another world.

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