Starling (65 page)

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Authors: Fiona Paul

BOOK: Starling
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turned up dead, and Siena and Cass had found her crouched at the
back of the Mercato di Rialto a few weeks ago. No one else knew
where they had found her, so it would be a safe place for the two girls
to meet. After folding the parchment and sealing it with a blob of
warm red wax, Cass thanked the man once more.
She left the house and headed again toward the Ghetto’s exit. Slipping her hood up and tightening her cloak around her, she passed
through the arched opening. She had no idea how to get back to the
San Marco district she was more familiar with, and wasn’t sure where
else she might find a messenger, so she followed the smaller canals
until they widened into a larger canal. Gondolas and
sandolos
floated along beside her. Cass kept her head tucked low until she
heard a friendly shout from the water.
“Signorina.” A pair of tan boys were using long poles to steer a
flat-bottomed barge laden with vegetables. The one in back called
out to her. “Where do you walk alone?”
Cass risked a half smile. “I’m looking for a messenger. Are you
heading to the Mercato di Rialto?”
“But of course.”
The boy in back vaulted over sacks of potatoes to speak with the
boy in the front, who rolled his eyes but steered the boat toward the
edge of the canal.
“Do you wish to come aboard?” the first boy asked.
Cass glanced quickly back and forth between the boys. There was
no malevolence in their eyes, no spark of recognition. The one was
smiling and the other was looking down at his hands—perhaps
bored, perhaps a bit embarrassed for his friend.
“If you don’t mind. There should be no shortage of messengers at
the market.”
“Is it a message for your signore?” the first boy asked with a wink.
“Just a friend,” Cass said. She prayed it was the truth, that Feliciana thought of her as such, that she would come to Cass’s aid.
The boys helped Cass onto the barge and she took a seat on a
rough burlap sack, her eyes immediately beginning to water from the
scent of onions. The boy in back chatted with her, asking her name
and what family she worked for. Cass fabricated short answers, glad
at least that a night of sleeping outside had made her appear more like
a servant.
It took her only a few moments to locate a messenger once she
reached the market, but how was she going to pay? She had only two
objects of worth in her possession—her lily pendant and Maximus’s
dagger. As foolish as it was to keep the necklace and sacrifice her only
source of protection, Cass could not bring herself to relinquish the
pendant Luca had given her. To lose it would be like losing him, forever. Reluctantly, she drew the blade from her pocket and turned it
over in her hands. She was desperate, and Maximus had said he
could easily replace the weapon. Cass could only pray the dagger
would be accepted as payment.
The boy’s eyes went wide at the sight of the jeweled blade, but he
frowned when Cass told him where Feliciana was staying. “It’s only
a few blocks from here,” he said suspiciously. “Why do you not deliver this message yourself?”
People swarmed around them on both sides. The sun had risen
and the day was bright and cool. It felt like all of Venice had flocked
to the market.
Cass thought quickly. “The signore turned me out for stealing,”

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