Isabel felt absurdly pleased that the famous Luciano had taken notice of a suggestion of hers.
‘Let’s show her Padavia,’ said Matt, who was wearing his old printer’s devil clothes. He didn’t look elegant enough to be a companion of the Cavaliere or even of Isabel in her green Talian dress.
‘Let’s find Cesare,’ said Luciano. ‘Then she can meet another figure in the story.’
Constantin sighed. ‘Another good student to be beguiled from his studies,’ he said.
‘It’s the Easter holiday,’ said Luciano. ‘You told me so yourself.’
‘Lucky you,’ said Matt. ‘We’ve still got two weeks to go.’
‘Can we see Enrico too?’ asked Isabel as they walked down Salt Street. ‘I’ve been warned about the smell.’
‘I’m afraid you’re more likely to run into him in Classe,’ said Luciano. ‘I’ve sent him there to spy for me.’
On the Friday night that Isabel and Matt were in Padavia, Georgia and Nick were together at her house.
They had made up their differences. Stravagating to Giglia had done something positive for Nick. He had loved being in ‘his’ city again, but his encounter with Fabrizio had shaken him. He realised how dangerous it was to be where he might be recognised. It certainly hadn’t taken his brother any time to recognise him in spite of his improved health and height and his Dominican disguise.
‘I wonder how they’re getting on in Padavia,’ said Georgia, voicing the thought that Nick was sharing.
‘Would you like to go there too?’ asked Nick.
‘Padavia?’ said Georgia, surprised. ‘Why would I? I’ve never been there.’
‘Well, you could see Luciano,’ risked Nick, giving her a wicked smile. ‘But no, I meant Talia.’
Georgia punched him gently on the shoulder.
‘Where exactly?’
‘I was thinking Bellezza,’ said Nick. ‘I feel like visiting my sister.’
Isabel was beginning to realise that Matt was a bit of a hero in Padavia. He had been greeted enthusiastically by the printers in the Scriptorium and stopped in the street by several passers-by on the way to the University.
The big, shy boy she thought she knew from home was different in Talia. He walked straighter and met people’s eyes like a confident person. Isabel wondered if she did that here too.
They found Cesare in the Refectory, eating crumbly sugary pastries. He spluttered crumbs all over the table when he saw Matt. But he brushed himself off to be introduced to Isabel.
‘Another Stravagante?’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘Padavia is lucky to get a second one.’
Isabel liked him straight away, with his open honest face.
‘No, she is for Classe,’ Luciano put him right. ‘But Doctor Dethridge has made the talismans work for any city and Isabella has been trying hers out.’
‘Have you been to Remora?’ asked Cesare.
‘Yes, and met your family,’ said Isabel. ‘And the horses,’ she added.
‘Even Merla?’ asked Cesare.
‘Especially Merla,’ said Isabel. ‘And Georgia came with me.’
‘Oh, how is she?’ asked Cesare. ‘I would love to see her again. She is brave as a lion and a fine horsewoman.’
‘She’s well,’ said Isabel, thinking of Nick and Georgia’s reconciliation. ‘She’s very happy.’
‘And she could come here now!’ said Cesare, realising. ‘Do ask her if she would.’
‘Are you all stravagating again, then?’ asked Luciano. It made him feel uneasy, a bit like a mother cat when her kittens start exploring outside the box.
‘Well,’ said Matt, ‘it’s true everyone has. It all started when Georgia went to Remora with Bel. Nick found out and when Sky went with her to Giglia, he decided to go too.’
Luciano and Cesare both looked horrified.
‘Falco returned to Giglia?’ said Cesare.
‘The idiot,’ said Luciano. ‘Did anyone see him?’
‘I’m afraid Fabrizio did,’ said Isabel. ‘Nick showed himself to him deliberately.’
‘Why on earth . . . ?’
‘He wanted to weaken him,’ said Isabel. ‘Fabrizio’s planning to lead an army to Classe when the Gate people invade from the sea.’
Now Luciano looked really worried. ‘You’d better all come back to my place,’ he said. ‘We need to contact Rodolfo by mirror and see what he says about that. And I think he should know about all you Stravaganti coming back to Talia.’
*
Georgia had never been to Bellezza and Nick had only vague childhood memories of one trip there so they didn’t attempt to stravagate directly to the palazzo. Instead, Georgia thought about the front of the great cathedral, imagining San Marco in Venice but substituting rams for horses and silver for gold. She and Nick held hands as they fell asleep, thinking of the City of Masks and saying its name out loud till drowsiness overtook them.
They found themselves in the early morning light in the square outside the Maddalena. They were only feet away from the two pillars by the lagoon and Georgia shuddered to remember what Luciano had told her about that being a place of execution by fire. She turned to Nick and smiled. ‘We made it,’ she said.
He was looking at her, horrified.
‘But we’re both wearing pyjamas!’ he said. ‘And shouldn’t you have a mask? We didn’t think this through.’
Georgia started to giggle; they both looked so out of place.
‘We’d better go and find Arianna, before we get into trouble,’ she said. ‘I hope it’s not that Forbidden Day she told us about.’
‘That’s in May, I think,’ said Nick as they walked across the square to the Palazzo Ducale, trying not to look conspicuous.
Fortunately, there were few people around and, although they picked up some curious looks, no one stopped them. By the time they arrived at the gates, they had hastily cobbled together a cover story.
‘Good day, sir,’ said Nick to the guard, trying to look more confident than he felt. ‘We are the Anglian clowns, expected by the Duchessa.’
‘Anglian clowns?’ said the guard. ‘I don’t know anything about any clowns, Anglian or otherwise. Where are your papers? Or your gear come to that?’
‘Alas, sir, my sister and I were robbed on our way here,’ said Nick smoothly. ‘But if you would send word to Her Grace to say that Nicholas and Georgia Mulholland are here, I’m sure she will want to see us.’
After much grumbling reluctance, which they were not able to soften by any tip, since they had only the nightclothes they stood up in, the guard agreed to summon a footman.
By great good fortune, this was Marco, whose keen eyes took in what the guard had not: that they were without shadows. He didn’t understand everything about the Stravaganti but he knew enough to tell that this was an important sign. He agreed to take news of them to the Duchessa and gestured to them behind the guard’s back to get out of the sun.
He was back as quickly as it took to run up the stairs to the Duchessa’s private apartments and come back with a confirmation that they were expected, though Marco had noticed the widening of the violet eyes behind the silver mask when she heard the names.
Georgia looked about her as they were shown up the grand staircase, marvelling at the candelabra, the dark oil portraits on the walls and the sheer number of servants moving about the palace.
‘Can you imagine living in a place like this?’ she whispered to Nick.
‘You forget,’ he whispered back. ‘I have.’
Marco ushered them into the Duchessa’s private parlour as ceremoniously as if they had been the most richly dressed aristocrats.
‘Ah!’ said Arianna. ‘My clowns,’ and dismissed Marco.
As soon as they were alone, she tore off her mask and hugged them both affectionately.
‘What are you both doing here?’ she asked. ‘And is it safe for you, Falco? Oh, I must organise clothes for you straight away.’
She rang for her maid, not waiting for a
n answer. Barbara came as quickly as if she had been waiting outside the door. Georgia suspected that Marco had told her about their arrival.
Arianna had no problem ordering a dress and a mask for Georgia; that could be easily supplied from her own extensive wardrobe. But she and Barbara fussed and frowned over Nick, making him turn round and measuring him with their eyes and hands.
‘Milady, I think Marco’s clothes would fit him but does the Signore wish to be mistaken for a footman? We have nothing fitting for a nobleman in the palazzo except for your father’s clothes.’
‘What do you think, Fal— I mean, Nicholas?’ asked Arianna. ‘Would it help you to be dressed as a palace servant?’
Nick nodded. ‘I don’t really mind,’ he said.
Then, as soon as Barbara had gone, he said, ‘I’m here to see my sister.’
Arianna looked grave. ‘I’ll have to ask Rodolfo,’ she said. ‘He didn’t tell me you were coming. Or Georgia,’ she added.
‘He didn’t know,’ said Nick. ‘It was a spur of the moment decision.’
*
Luciano was in contact with Rodolfo through his hand mirror when not only his master but his fiancée came into view.
Arianna, thought-spoke Luciano, I have something to tell you and Rodolfo.
And we have something to tell you, she replied. She wasn’t wearing her mask and her eyes were sparkling with excitement. You first, she said.
Well, I don’t know how you are going to feel about this, Maestro. Not only Isabella but Matteo is here with me in Padavia.
Welcome to both, Rodolfo communicated. I should like to see them.
Matt and Isabel crowded together so that the Bellezzan Stravagante could see them and they him.
Isabella, said Arianna, it is good to see you. We have much to talk about. And, Matteo, you are looking very well. Welcome back to Talia.
The two newest Stravaganti were not very good at it yet and Isabel was better than Matt because she had had more practice, but they managed to understand Arianna and send their own greetings. Luciano took the mirror back.
The new stravagation is still working well on Isabella’s talisman, said Rodolfo.
Yes, Maestro, but there is more, said Luciano. When Isabella went to Remora, Georgia stravagated with her.
There is no reason why she should not have, said Rodolfo.
And when she travelled to Giglia, not only did Sky go with her but Nick too.
Luciano braced himself for Rodolfo’s displeasure and was amazed to see the Regent’s rare smile.
That does not surprise me. He is here now, in the palazzo with Georgia. It seems that young man is indifferent to danger.
‘Nick there!’ said Luciano out loud, he was so surprised. The others were equally shocked.
Why? he thought-spoke to Rodolfo.
I am about to find out, came the reply, half amused, half exasperated as even the onlooking Stravaganti could tell.
*
Princess Beatrice was in her room at the palazzo trying to concentrate on some embroidery she had undertaken for Arianna. The Duchessa was a poor needlewoman and Beatrice was much more nimble-fingered. But she found it difficult to keep her mind on her work. Her thoughts kept wandering back to her life in Giglia and whether she would ever be reconciled to her brother. She couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing little Bino again.
She had always hoped that he would grow to resemble Falco, the little brother he had been named after, and had imagined that would be a comfort to her in her later years. A tear fell on the expensive silk and she was trying to brush it away when there was a soft knock on her door.
It was the Duchessa herself.
‘Beatrice,’ she started, then stopped. ‘Oh, you are sad?’
‘It’s nothing,’ said the princess. ‘I was just thinking about Falco – you know, my younger brother who died last year.’
‘Well, that is a coincidence,’ said Arianna. ‘It was Falco I came to speak to you about.’
‘Really?’ said Beatrice, surprised. ‘What can be said of him now? He lies in his tomb with a fine statue above him.’
‘Come and sit down with me,’ said Arianna. ‘What I have to tell you will seem very amazing to you and you might feel afraid, but I promise you it will end with a kind of happiness.’
*
Nick paced the parlour anxiously, dressed in his footman’s clothes. Rodolfo watched him, marvelling at the boy’s wonderful physique and steady walk.
‘It is like a miracle, what they did for you in the other world of the future,’ he said.
It had not taken him long to decide that Beatrice could meet this revenant from the past. He trusted the di Chimici princess not to reveal secrets of the Stravaganti.
‘You can’t imagine,’ said Nick, stopping. ‘I’ve got used to it now, but when I first arrived there it was quite terrifying, the speed with which everything worked. But now I see they take a lot longer over some things. They get married and have their children much later – just because they live longer. Some people even live to be over a hundred, you know.’
‘Really?’ said Rodolfo. ‘They must be treated with much honour.’
‘Well, actually, no,’ said Georgia. ‘They get a message from the Queen but they’re usually in an old people’s home and often pretty gaga by then.’
‘Ga-ga?’ queried Rodolfo, but he was destined not to know the answer, as the door opened and Princess Beatrice rushed in.
She had listened to Arianna’s explanation of what happened to her brother, had failed to understand and had it all explained again. But nothing could have prepared her for the sight that met her eyes: Falco, upright and strong, a year older than he would have been if he had lived, tall and handsome but still recognisably her adored little brother.
The two di Chimici, one still living in the sixteenth century, the other a visitor from the twenty-first, fell into a tearful and happy embrace.
Rodolfo beckoned to Georgia. ‘Let us give them half an hour,’ he said.
And Georgia left with him, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. She knew this was what Nick had wanted, but seeing him with his sister made her realise all over again what an alien past her boyfriend had.
Sky had an awful lot to catch up on when they all met next day. He felt rather left out. He was the only Stravagante who hadn’t been in Talia the night before and he wanted every detail of both visits.
‘How was it?’ he asked Nick at the end of their account.
Nick hadn’t said much so far; it was Georgia who had talked about their stravagation to Bellezza. Now he ran his hands through his wayward hair.
‘What can I tell you?’ he said. ‘When I’m here, Talia seems like a dream – and vice versa.’
Georgia was clearly worried; she had seen Nick like this once before, when he had thought up the crazy idea of changing places with Luciano again.
‘Well, at least the talismans must be working, since neither of you had one for Bellezza,’ said Sky.
‘Hey, wasn’t that your special topic, Georgia?’ asked Matt. ‘Can we see what you’ve got?’
Georgia pulled out a list and showed it to them:
.
Talismans
Lucien/Luciano marbled notebook/white rose
Georgia winged horse
Nick/Falco Merla’s feather/black quill pen/silver earring
Sky perfume bottle
Matt spell-book
Bel bag of silver tesserae
.
William Dethridge copper dish
Rodolfo silver ring
Paolo ?
Brother Sulien silver cross
Giuditta Miele ?
Constantin ?
(Filippo di Chimici Matt’s spell-book)
Flavia ?
.
They all pored over it.
‘I don’t know all of them,’ said Georgia. ‘I forgot to ask Bel to find out about them.’
‘Why do some have two?’ asked Isabel. ‘Look ?
?? Nick’s even got three!’
There was a babble of explanations from the other four about talismans having to come from the opposite world to your own.
‘Then how come Filippo di Chimici was able to come to our world using Matt’s?’ asked Isabel.
There was total silence in Nick’s attic, as four pairs of eyes looked at Isabel as if she had just announced she had found a cure for cancer.
‘What?’ she asked. ‘Am I being stupid or something?’
‘No,’ said Matt. ‘We’re the ones who have been stupid. You’re the clever one. How did we miss that? And how DID Filippo get here?’
Chapter 17
Andrea’s Story
Filippo Nucci’s mosaic was complete and so was Fausto’s portrait of Vitale, the spotted cat. Duke Germano had installed the great cat in his new house with his picture inside the door and had allotted a stableman to his personal care so that the cat was regularly exercised and fed fresh meat. Vitale accompanied his master on some ceremonial occasions and was always beautifully behaved.
There was a small gathering in honour of the cat’s new home.
‘It’s wonderful,’ said Filippo when Fausto unveiled Vitale’s portrait.
‘A remarkable likeness,’ said the Duke. ‘You have so much skill, Maestro.’
He gave the mosaic-master considerably more than the agreed fee, he was so pleased with the result. With all the worries about the Gate people hanging over him, the presence of Vitale and the beautifying of his quarters was a pleasure the Duke could indulge and enjoy.
Lurking at the back of the small crowd gathered in Duke Germano’s courtyard was a disreputable-looking individual in a blue jerkin. He had insinuated himself in among the spectators and soon found out who the mosaic-maker was.
‘And who’s the tall thin one with the cane?’ he asked his neighbour.
‘That’s young Filippo Nucci,’ Enrico was told. ‘He’s been here nearly a year, since his folk were exiled from Giglia.’
Enrico looked at the young aristocrat with interest. So this was one of the people who had taken part in the massacre at the di Chimici weddings and let all hell loose in Talia. At the moment he didn’t look as if he’d come off best against a glass of milk but Enrico was used to the deceptiveness of appearances. He decided to follow Filippo.