‘Perhaps I could. I shall look into it immediately.’ Arianna was already wondering what Rodolfo would say if she said she’d like to keep all the babies.
As Mariotto was leaving, he bowed to make way for the Regent, who was coming to see his daughter.
‘You look happy,’ he said, smiling at Arianna.
‘My African cats are going to have African kittens,’ said Arianna. ‘I never realised they were a pair like that.’
‘Are you ignorant of what Luciano tells me are called “the facts of life” in his world?’ asked Rodolfo.
‘No,’ said Arianna. ‘I think I am just very stupid. When did you speak to Luciano?’
‘About that, a long time ago,’ said Rodolfo. ‘You must allow a father to be discreet about his conversations with a future son-in-law.’ He was smiling, but Arianna had come to know him very well over the last two years.
‘But you have spoken to him,’ she persisted, going to the heart of the matter.
‘In a sense,’ said Rodolfo. ‘He used the mirror to contact me.’
‘And how is he?’ asked Arianna. ‘I had to leave him in a public place. And I was worried about him. He looked so tired and strained.’
‘I think strained is right,’ said Rodolfo. ‘You know that he saw his parents and his old home?’
‘No,’ said Arianna, shocked. ‘He worked all the rest of that night and said very little about his stravagation when I woke in the morning. Only that the counter-spell was successful and the boy Matteo cursed was well again. I was thinking more about the new Stravagante and how he must be feeling.’ She looked stricken.
‘I wonder if it was a good idea to send him to Padavia,’ said Rodolfo.
‘Matteo?’
‘No, Luciano,’ said Rodolfo. ‘I don’t feel easy not having him under my eye here.’
‘Perhaps you should disguise yourself and go and visit him,’ said Arianna ruefully. ‘You might be more use than me.’
Rodolfo came and kissed her on the forehead.
‘Don’t castigate yourself,’ he said. ‘But perhaps that is not a bad idea.’
*
In Padavia, the game of cat and mouse continued, although there was more than one mouse. Matt returned to the Secret Scriptorium, still unconscious of his several followers. Filippo’s spy loitered in Salt Street, waiting for him to come out again. He idled past the bookbinder’s, looking in at his windows to pass the time. At the end of a very long afternoon, by which time he was jaw-achingly bored, he saw Biagio and Constantin coming out of the Scriptorium.
The spy made a note to tell his master that they had been working on a Sunday. That wasn’t exactly against the law but it was unusual. He thought it would be only a matter of minutes before the printer’s devil came out again. But time passed and there was still no sign of his quarry.
Eventually he went to the only window that gave on to the street and risked peering in. At first he thought he was looking at a heap of clothes but then saw that the boy was lying on the floor in a room that looked like the boss’s office.
Sleeping at work, thought the spy. But then something stranger happened. The boy was there one minute and gone the next. The spy thought perhaps he had just imagined the apprentice lying on the floor; the window was quite dirty. But the clothes were gone as well. The boy had just disappeared. And then he remembered another detail: he had been holding in his hand a book very like the ones the spy had seen that afternoon in the shop of Nando the bookbinder.
*
Ludo was sure that Matteo, whom he knew to be a Stravagante like Luciano, was under surveillance but he didn’t know whose man was spying on the boy. He had lingered in Salt Street himself but been disconcerted towards dusk to feel a hand on his shoulder. A rather unpleasant smell assailed his nose and a short man in a blue hat smiled ingratiatingly at him.
‘Time to pool our resources, don’t you think?’ he said.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Ludo.
‘Let me spell it out for you,’ said Enrico. ‘You’re spying on him, he’s spying on young Matteo and I’m spying on you.’ He finished with a self-satisfied air.
‘Why?’ said Ludo, startled. ‘Why are you spying on me? Who are you working for?’
‘The young Cavaliere,’ said Enrico promptly. ‘Luciano What’s-his-name. I think you and I are on the same side. Mind, you should get a bit better at spotting a tail if you and your mates are going to have your festival-thing tomorrow.’
Ludo was stung by the remark but found it hard to think of Luciano employing this unsavoury man.
‘What do you mean about pooling our resources?’ he asked cautiously.
‘Well,’ said Enrico, ‘do you know who that is spying on young Matteo? Because I do. And maybe there’s something you know that I don’t. Pooling resources, see?’
Ludo would have preferred to check with Luciano first but he wanted Enrico’s information.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I fear that there will soon be a prosecution under the anti-magic laws, resulting in death by burning. And I suspect that a book or books will be involved. That is why I am watching Matteo in the Scriptorium.’
‘Interesting,’ said Enrico, though he didn’t really know what to do with this information. Still, he filed it for future use. ‘Well, that not very clever spy is one Giuseppe, a servant of Filippo of Bellona.’
‘Really?’ said Ludo. ‘So he spies on Luciano’s friend?’
‘And on the Cavaliere himself,’ added Enrico. ‘The question is, why?’
Going back to school on Monday was tough. The weekly routine always seemed like more of a grind after a week off. And everyone was a bit scratchy, thinking about how they should have done more work at home instead of just relaxing. The weeks till the Christmas holidays stretched out endlessly and it would be November the next day, the month that put the final nail in the coffin of summer.
The one bright spot was that it was also Hallowe’en and there was going to be a party. The house where Sky lived backed on to the garden of a much larger house, which was virtually next door to the school. And the student who lived there was a sixth former named Chrissie. She was a high-flyer, who got staggering exam results and was expected to go to Oxford. In return, her parents took a relaxed attitude to her enjoyment of hard-partying.
When she told them she wanted a Hallowe’en party, they laid down a few house rules and then arranged to go out for the evening. Chrissie was a popular member of the sixth form and issued a general invitation to everyone in their common room. That was in addition to all the people she had personally invited during half-term.
‘You’d better come, Sky,’ she said. ‘There’ll be such a racket, you’ll feel as if you’re there anyway. Bring Alice.’
‘Thanks,’ said Sky. ‘You haven’t left us long to get costumes together.’
‘It’s not a kids’ party,’ said Chrissie. ‘You don’t have to do much.’
Matt had also been invited and wondered if he dared ask Ayesha to go with him; she was definitely going. Jago hadn’t come back to school and there was a rumour his parents were taking him to convalesce in the Caribbean.
‘Jammy bugger!’ said Chay. But Matt didn’t begrudge it to Jago. He was just pleased there was no chance of his showing up at the party.
Chapter 19
A Hallowe’en Party
The Manoush were up early on the thirty-first. For them it was the last day of the old year and the vigil on the eve of their Day of the Dead. The last day of the old and the first day of the new year were both associated with the people who had gone before them into the world beyond this one and it was a solemn ceremony of chanting and prayers, sober enough not to disturb even the most zealous of anti-magic law officers.
They were alert to passers-by though, just in case any were informers. Enrico was watching from a dark doorway but he was no threat; Ludo had told his friends about the spy, who seemed to want to help them.
They were back where Luciano had f
irst seen them, camped outside the cathedral. But as the sun rose, they cast back their dark cloaks and let their colourful clothes show as they lifted their arms in greeting to their goddess’s consort.
For the Manoush, the sun was an intercessor, and an old friend, one they could implore to take care of the souls of the departed and speak for them to the queen of heaven herself. This was just the beginning of their rituals; the main part would happen in the evening and would be much more dangerous for them.
Since All Hallows’ Eve was also a festival of the Talian Church, there would be late worshippers still straggling through the square when the Manoush came to celebrate their twilight rites. And those would be far more noticeable. But for now there was no one to hinder them.
As their ceremonies concluded and the group broke up, Ludo fell into step beside Enrico – but not too close. They walked up the street of the Saint and along Salt Street very near to where they had met the night before.
‘Look, there’s a light in the studio,’ said Enrico. ‘It’s early for the professor to be about.’
They moved closer and looked cautiously through the mullioned window.
‘It is the boy, Matteo,’ said Ludo. ‘Surely he doesn’t usually arrive this early?’
It was true but Matt had made a bad mistake. He had been to the gym with Chay after school and rushed to shower on getting home. In the end, he had eaten supper in his dressing gown before getting changed to go to the party. He hadn’t exactly asked Ayesha to go with him but she’d said she would see him there, looking very serious, so he didn’t want to be late.
But he lay on his bed for a few minutes before getting dressed and it had felt very comfortable. He stretched and felt all his overworked muscles relax. His right arm was thrust under his pillow, his hand resting lightly on the spell-book, as he dropped into a deep and refreshing sleep.
And he woke with a start, to find himself in the studio before dawn broke over Padavia. He was so confused about where he was and why he was there that he had lit one of Constantin’s candles.
Ever since then he had been trying to get back to sleep, clutching the talisman and concentrating hard on his room at home. But his anxiety about what Ayesha would think if he didn’t show up at the party kept him wide awake. And now he could hear tapping on the studio window.
Matt looked up and saw Ludo, the Manoush, unexpectedly accompanied by Enrico, the spy and assassin that Luciano seemed to have forgiven. He sighed. If he couldn’t get to sleep, he might as well say hello to them. He opened the window, since the Scriptorium door was locked from the outside.
‘We saw the light,’ said Ludo. ‘And wondered if there was anything wrong.’
‘Yeah,’ said Matt, looking warily at Enrico. ‘I shouldn’t be here. It’s sort of accidental.’
‘Can’t you get out?’ asked Enrico.
‘Well, I could get out the window, I suppose,’ said Matt.
‘We’ll help,’ said Ludo, offering him a hand. ‘Why don’t we see if Luciano will give us breakfast?’
‘Hey, Ayesha,’ said Sky. ‘You look great.’
Ayesha made a very plausible if rather too attractive witch, with her long hair loose and wearing green eyeshadow and a shimmering black dress. She was casting anxious glances round Chrissie’s living room.
‘Hey, Sky,’ she said distractedly. ‘Have you seen Matt?’
‘Not yet,’ said Sky. ‘I heard him saying he was going to the gym after school – with Chay.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Ayesha.
‘Look, there’s Chay over there,’ said Sky. ‘He’s the one under the sheet.’
Ayesha drifted over to a very unconvincing ghost, who was drinking beer through a straw and a hole in his sheet.
‘Chay, is that you?’ she asked.
‘Mmn,’ mumbled the ghost, then detached itself from the straw. ‘Hi, Yesh. All right?’
‘Fine,’ said Ayesha. ‘Chay, have you seen Matt?’
‘Not since the gym,’ said Chay.
‘But he is coming?’
‘Oh, yes. He just went home for a shower and a quick meal.’
Ayesha looked at her watch.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Chay. ‘He’ll be here. Come on, let’s find you a drink.’
Luciano was still fast asleep when Alfredo knocked at his bedroom door.
‘You have visitors, signore,’ said the old servant. ‘And they want breakfast.’
Luciano hurried into his clothes, still only half awake. He took the stairs two at a time and found a strange collection of people in his dining room. Whoever he had been expecting, they made an odd combination: the Manoush, the spy and the Stravagante.
‘Hi, Matt,’ he said. ‘Why are you here so early?’
The sky outside his windows was still only pearly grey.
‘Mistake,’ said Matt. ‘I fell asleep in the early evening and must have touched the book.’
‘We thought,’ said Enrico, ‘that breakfast might help him to get back to sleep?’
‘I just couldn’t get back off in the studio,’ admitted Matt.
‘It’s always hard when you’re stressed,’ said Luciano. ‘You need to be really relaxed to stravagate. But it gets easier with practice, so you can even do it in an emergency. Still, let’s fill you up with breakfast and make you sleepy.’
Ludo was just as interested in the food as Enrico; he had been up for most of the night. In spite of the early hour, it was quite a merry occasion. But as soon as his stomach was full, Enrico reverted to his role as spy. He stood at the window, watching as the city woke up.
Then dodged back behind the shutters.
‘We’re being watched,’ he hissed.
‘By Giuseppe?’ asked Ludo.
‘No,’ said Enrico. ‘I don’t know this one. I don’t think it’s Matteo he is spying on. We weren’t followed from the Scriptorium, I’m sure.’
‘Well, if it’s not Matteo they’re waiting for,’ said Ludo. ‘It’s probably me.’
‘You think it’s an informer for the Governor?’ said Luciano.
‘Well, it could be,’ said Ludo. ‘We did celebrate our ritual outside the cathedral. Someone might have seen us.’
He pulled a dark tunic out of his bag and put it on over his colourful shirt and took the blue and green ribbons out of his hair. Raking through the red-brown locks with his fingers, he tied his mane back with a plain black ribbon.
‘Will you still go ahead tonight?’ asked Luciano.
‘We have to,’ said Ludo, simply. ‘It is what we came to do. To let the old year move from the present to the past. And help tomorrow be today.’
‘But it’ll happen all the same, whether you and the other Manoush have your ceremony or not,’ said Enrico reasonably.
‘It does seem a huge risk to take,’ said Luciano. ‘You could all be arrested.’
‘We might have to move the ritual to another place in the city,’ conceded Ludo. ‘I have no desire to die for the goddess, but we are her people and she will protect us.’
Matt thought a good sword might be more useful, but the Manoush always went unarmed.
‘Do you want to stay here?’ asked Luciano. ‘I have no classes today. The University is closed for the festival.’
‘No,’ said Ludo. ‘Thank you but I’d have to leave eventually. The important thing is that the spy, whoever he is working for, shouldn’t follow me back to where I’m staying.’
No one asked where that was; only Enrico knew that Ludo was sheltering in the Governor’s house where he could be discovered at any minute.
Alfredo came in with a note on a silver plate.
‘Messenger brought this,’ he said, handing it to Luciano.
Enrico was back at the window in an instant but the watcher had gone.
‘It’s from Filippo,’ said Luciano. ‘He wants me to meet him at his palazzo.’
‘Do notte goe,’ said a voice from the doorway. William Dethridge came in wrapped in a voluminous green velvet dressing g
own. He was wearing a long nightcap and all the young men in the room might have laughed if it hadn’t been for the deadly seriousness in his voice.
*
Cesare was out early, riding Fiorella. He was taking advantage of the University’s being closed for the Festival of All Souls to give the mare some proper exercise. They were in the south of the city, where the great oval swamp lay, covering the old Reman amphitheatre. A gallop round the outside made a great racetrack and Cesare gave the horse her head.
At the end of several circuits he slowed her down, her sides heaving, and walked her slowly back to the north of the city as the sun climbed into the sky dispersing the layer of pearly grey cloud. As he walked the horse back to his lodgings, enjoying the clear morning air, he spotted a familiar figure striding through the streets. But it couldn’t be? Why would the Regent of Bellezza be in Padavia? Surely Luciano would have mentioned it?
Cesare reined in the horse and called quietly, ‘Senator?’
‘Cesare!’ said Rodolfo, smiling up at the Remoran. ‘Well met.’
Cesare swung down lightly from the horse.
‘I’m very pleased to see you, sir,’ he said, bowing.
Rodolfo clasped him warmly in his arms. ‘Paolo told me you were studying here,’ he said. ‘And I hoped I’d meet you.’
‘Have you come to see Luciano?’ asked Cesare. ‘Or is this a state visit?’
‘Entirely private,’ said Rodolfo, looking round him. ‘Secret, you might say.’
He was not in disguise but it was true he didn’t look like a visiting head of state, even a substitute one. He was wearing his usual black velvet, but not grand clothes. In fact, his cloak looked a little threadbare.
As Cesare watched him, he suddenly thought that Rodolfo didn’t look much like himself at all. He wasn’t sure now that he would have recognised the Regent if he hadn’t seen him from behind.
Rodolfo smiled. ‘Does that work?’
Cesare nodded, surprised. ‘I don’t know what you did but I wouldn’t have known you.’
‘That’s the idea,’ said Rodolfo. ‘It’s nothing more than a temporary glamour – quite easy to cast.’