Sofia hid her face in her hands. “I wanted to keep him safe.” Sofia began to cry. “I wanted to keep him safe.”
“Which is why you did this?”
Sofia’s face twisted. Blood left a handprint on her cheek. “Yes! You will not use him like Arturo!”
Paolo’s jaw jutted. “I will do as I please.”
Carlo’s blood puddled on the floor. “Am I dying?”
“No,” said Paolo. “You are making an awful mess, though. Be patient.”
Paolo studied Sofia. “You have outlived your usefulness. And”—Paolo pulled a glass bottle with clear medicine from a pocket in his coat—”you have broken our agreement.”
“How dare you pretend to be righteous!” Sofia yelled. “I couldn’t save him! You did this!”
“You’re lucky he’ll live. Otherwise I would kill you outright.”
“No,” said Carlo. The blood was sluggish. Was he running out?
“Do not worry,” Paolo said. “Let us finish here and then we’ll leave.”
“Finish? Don’t do anything to her!”
“You want me to show her mercy after she stabbed you?”
“I don’t want you to hurt her.”
“I won’t do anything. I promise you. What your mother does is up to her alone.” He placed the clear vial in her lap by the needles. “Live, die. Your choice.”
“I won’t drink it,” she said. “I know your poison.”
Paolo shrugged. “Do as you like. I tell you what: you can sit there and look at it for a while. If you decide to live, you should leave. Have someone take you to those nuns you love so well. But you will not be here when I return. You are no longer welcome.” Paolo helped Carlo to his feet. “Mark this. If I ever see you near my grandson again, I will kill you.”
“Carlo?” Sofia’s arms reached toward him. “Please don’t go.”
Carlo studied her bloody hands. He felt lightheaded. “You tried to murder me.”
“I wanted what was best for you.”
“You believe killing me is better than letting me live?” Carlo chewed his lip. He dared not let that little boy out again, the one who had trusted his mother. That Carlo had to be locked in a cabinet, safe from danger and betrayal. “I’m sorry,” said Carlo. “For what I am. For what you are. I have to leave.”
“Trust in God,” said Sofia. “He will save you.”
“You don’t believe He will,” said Carlo. “You said I was damned.”
Sofia said nothing.
Carlo was no longer bleeding. “We can go.”
Paolo helped Carlo out the door into the rain outside. The day was beginning not at all in the fashion he had expected.
“What did you give her?” Carlo asked. “What was in the vial?”
“Options,” said Paolo.
“So what am I? Am I just some demon you dressed up as your grandson?”
“Oh no. You’re my grandson.”
“I don’t know if I can believe you.”
“Exactly what your mother would say.” They were heading toward a canal, where a small rowboat waited, a little boy attending it. Paolo handed him a florin and the little boy splashed away into the flooded street.
The hole in Carlo’s shirt remained. The stab wound had become an ugly red circle. “How could you have hidden this from me?”
“I thought your demon blood was so diluted it wouldn’t matter if you knew or not―at least until you were older. Neither your mother nor I counted on a Binder landing on our doorstep. How did you find out?”
“Lucy’s sister.”
Paolo jumped into the boat. “Octavia. She’d be the one to do it.”
“She made me tell her where Lucy was. She’s looking for Lucy. We need to return to the library.”
“Which is where we are heading, yes.”
Carlo allowed himself to be helped into the boat. It rocked, and he stumbled, falling onto the rough wooden seat. He listened to the slosh of the water. Boats moved up and down the canal. The streets bustled with people who had no idea demons existed in the world.
Carlo bailed some water from the bottom with a bucket. “Mother told me the story. Is it true?”
Paolo manned the oars, water sloshing as he paddled through it. “I was quite the misguided magician in my youth. I experimented in many things. Your father’s mother is a demon. Well, technically a magical entity. You are one-fourth demon.”
“Did you know something like this would happen?”
“I told you no, I didn’t think so. There is always the possibility of something happening. I imagined with training when you were old enough, your ancestry would cause you no trouble.”
Carlo shook the last trickle of water from the bucket and filled it again. “You don’t seem to understand. Everything has changed!”
Paolo stopped rowing. “If you aren’t going to focus on the more important matters at hand, I will push you into the canal. Or have you forgotten your friend Miss Lucia?”
“You don’t care?”
“I do care. I understand you must go through these emotions, but you must understand I find your drama inappropriate and distasteful. There are advantages as well as disadvantages to your situation. Ra made you bring Miss Lucia to our house. Advantage.” Paolo continued rowing. “Do you think Octavia can still control you?”
Carlo’s feet were sopping. A woman blew him a kiss from the water bus. He returned his attention to bailing. “After a while I could resist her.”
“See, there’s no need for all this fuss.”
The water turned sludgy, impossible to put in the bucket. “I hate you.”
Paolo nodded. “What about Lucy?”
“What about Lucy?”
“She is an arresting little thing. Naive, but so are you.”
“Who made me so?” Carlo rubbed dried blood off his forearm and trailed his fingers in the murky water. “Octavia doesn’t think Lucy should let Ra go. Ra is dangerous.”
“She’s right. He’s a demon. However, I doubt Octavia’s motives are altruistic. An uncontrolled Ra could be a problem, but an unattached Ra can, I believe, be driven back to the Abyss. So Lucia doesn’t fight her Trial. She frees Ra and sends him away. She’s strong enough. She must believe it herself, of course.”
The sun shone, a pale globe behind the constant clouds and drizzle, neither night nor day. Carlo shivered. Acqua alta made him cold and miserable. There was nothing to love about this season.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Early morning sun lit up the ruined apothecary windows, but inside was still a dim gray. Drusus floated himself and Lucy to the floor. “This is where I’ve been hiding,” said Lucy.
“Why?” Drusus peered around. “You said something about a scroll. There’s nothing here.”
Lucy knelt on the floor and smoothed the scroll out. “Here,” she said. “This is the way I might not have to fight Ra.” She picked it up. “Can you see it now?”
Drusus leaned over it. “Where did this come from?”
“There is library behind the shelves. Go take a look.”
Drusus disappeared behind the stone wall. “There’s nothing here, Lucy,” he called back.
“I think it’s visible only by special invitation.” Lucy studied her translation. Could she make Drusus understand? “You can’t see it? I thought you might be able to. Carlo couldn’t see it either.”
“Carlo?”
“He saved me.” Lucy stood. Should she tell him or not? “I fell into the canal and he pulled me out.”
“You fell into the canal?”
“I… yes. That’s right.” She knelt and smoothed the scroll again. Changing the subject might be best. “This scroll details a ceremony which will separate a demon from a Binder.” She glanced back to the ruined shop and the circle of books around the tuffet, plucked a large volume from among them, and motioned to Drusus. “Come see.”
Drusus crouched next to the scroll. “I don’t recognize the characters.”
“Demotic,”
said Lucy. “Napoleon’s soldiers were kind enough to make this dictionary after they discovered the Rosetta Stone.” She pointed to the French names on an inside page of the guide.
“You understand this?”
“Yes. Hieroglyphs are plentiful in the family histories. This middle language I can guess at. It’s close to hieroglyphics, so I can make out the content of this scroll. I know French, so reading the dictionary was easy.” Lucy drew in the dust with a finger. “I don’t claim my translation is grammatical, but I believe I have the shape of it.”
“When did you translate this?”
“Last night.”
“Amazing.” He glanced from Lucy to the scroll. “Octavia is sure you’re the weakest magician in your family. You can do something like this overnight, having never seen a language?”
Lucy’s cheeks tinted blue. “Carlo can learn a language just by hearing it.”
“Lucy, it’s unseemly for you to call someone I don’t know by their first name. I can’t approve.”
Lucy smiled. “You wouldn’t approve at all. He’s Venetian. I like him. He feels familiar.” Lucy took a deep breath. “Drusus, I intend to use this scroll to separate Ra and myself.”
“It can’t be that easy,” said Drusus.
“This scroll was written by the goddess Isis, or so it claims. Isis intended to use this scroll to trick her Binder into separating from her, and it is only good for one time.”
“Isis is a demon? Like Ra?”
“Yes.” Lucy paused, tongue in cheek. “No.” She watched Ra land on the dome. “I believe Isis and Ra are deposed gods, or what people thought were gods. King Solomon banished them to the Abyss.”
“You want to set Ra free?”
“Yes.” She studied her feet. “Don’t you suppose it is our moral imperative? Not to keep someone a prisoner against their will?”
“Ra would keep you a prisoner if what Octavia says is to be believed.”
“Maybe. But I am not Ra.”
“How did Carlo come by this scroll?”
“He didn’t,” Paolo Borgia called down from a window. Carlo, wrapped in his cloak, stood by his side. “Who is this, Miss Lucia?”
Drusus’ brow furrowed. “Sir,” he said, “I have not had the pleasure.”
“This young lady is under my protection.” Paolo scrambled down the rope.
Drusus stepped in front of Lucy. “I believe not.”
“Miss Lucia is very popular then.”
“My apologies,” said the boy from the ledge. “My grandfather can be outspoken.”
Lucy touched Drusus’ arm lightly. “Mr. Borgia and his grandson, Carlo.” She glanced up at Carlo. “Something’s happened?”
“No.” Carlo was pale.
Lucy frowned. She sensed something sharp hurt him, pierced him. He was jagged, like Ra felt.
Lucy inserted herself into the space between Drusus and Paolo. “May I present my sister’s husband, Drusus Claudian?”
Paolo appraised him. “I have heard of Octavia. In Venice, we keep our women in line.”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“One woman in your care goes around jumping in canals and has to be rescued. The other sends demons after my grandson. One would wonder what you are doing with yourself in Venice.”
Drusus straightened. “Are you questioning—”
“I am willing to help Miss Lucia, but after, I want nothing more to do with your family. You are too reckless. Your wife, making my grandson a puppet.”
Lucy glanced at Carlo, who shook his head. “Did Octavia do something to you?”
“It’s not important right now,” said Carlo.
“Your name is Borgia,” said Drusus.
Paolo bowed, short, curt, almost contemptuous. “At your service.”
“Yes,” said Drusus. “Your reputation has preceded you. We thought your family was gone.”
“Venice hides many secrets. Libraries, scrolls, families.” Paolo’s hands spread across the room. “Your reputation. A Claudian. Reputed for their honesty or their villainy. You come in extremes. Your family’s scheming has, in the past, rivaled my own family. For example, are you not a relative of the sorceress Livia, whom some say shaped the affairs of the Roman Empire using Octavian Caesar as her puppet? She was a poisoner of some renown. Admirable.”
“You have no right to lecture anyone about poison.”
Carlo moved to Lucy. “They could be at this for some time.”
“What is wrong with you?” Lucy fingers skimmed Carlo’s arm.
“Leave it.”
“I can’t. If Octavia hurt you, I am to blame.”
Carlo shook his head. “Whatever happened has nothing to do with you.”
Paolo tapped his chin. “We cannot judge an entire family on the actions of their ancestors. You are here to take the girl home?”
Drusus gave Paolo a once-over like he was a specimen. “Sir. I do not believe our business is any of yours.”
“It’s not, save the scroll you are looking at is mine. Miss Lucia, it sounds like you have understood its purpose?”
“Yes.”
“You wish to perform this ceremony?”
“Yes.”
Paolo smiled. “I can be of some help then.”
Drusus shook his head. “What I know about your family’s reputation. You are schemers through and through. What do you want from Lucy?”
Carlo stepped forward. “Enough, both of you. Either you want to help Lucy or you want to argue. If you want to argue, Lucy and I will work this magic ourselves.”
Carlo did not wither in Drusus’ gaze, which Lucy thought showed some backbone.
“You should stay out of this,” said Drusus.
“I can’t. I’m responsible for Lucy. I saved her.”
“For which I am grateful. Binders are dangerous, as you know. Freeing Ra is dangerous. Lucy and I have made other plans.”
“I understand Octavia plans to kill Lucy when Ra wins.” Carlo crossed his arms. “Is this your other plan?”
Drusus spoke through clenched teeth. “It is not.”
“Why not prevent the battle at all?” Paolo rubbed his stubbly chin. “I can see merit to the Trial or using the Isis Scroll, either way.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” said Drusus. “What do you stand to gain?”
“Like you, I am concerned for my family.”
“Lucy dissolves her bond to Ra.” Drusus glanced at Lucy. “What happens then?”
“He returns to the Abyss,” said Paolo. “No demon exists on this plane without a host.”
That is true. Ra’s sharp voice stabbed Lucy. I need you, Lucia.
“At what cost to her?” Drusus said, looking at Paolo.
“No cost at all.” Paolo plucked the dictionary from Lucy and slammed it shut, liberating dust.
Lucy cleared her throat. “I believe this is the only way to keep Ra from mastering me. I am unable to best him.”
Drusus touched Lucy’s arm. How could he care so much? She wasn’t used to all this attention directed at her. “You know I will help you.”
Lucy bit her lip. “I have no faith in my abilities. Drusus, you barely know me. You are courageous, but I need someone who cares about me, not in the way you protect me, but someone who believes I can win. You don’t think I can, not without your help.”
Drusus said nothing.
“We must do this soon,” said Lucy. “If you found me, how long can it be before Octavia does? My family believes in form and tradition, regardless of whether those traditions are just or not.”
“I think using this scroll is a terrible idea,” said Drusus. “I agree you should free yourself from Ra, but you cannot trust this man.”
Paolo straightened. “Mr. Claudian, Miss Lucia knows she dies if the demon fights her, one way or the other. Should she not avoid death altogether?”
“She knows no such thing,” said Drusus. “I will help her at her Trial. She’s stronger than she looks.”
“Carlo,” said Lucy. “Maybe you could be my Anchor.”
Carlo’s eyebrows lifted. “What are you saying?”
“I mean”—Lucy stammered—”you seem to believe in me, although I cannot for the life of me see why.”
“I can’t.”
“But you saved me.”
“I will help you in any way I can,” said Carlo. “I don’t trust myself to be anyone’s Anchor.”
Lucy cheeks were hot. “Drusus.” Her voice was shaky as she began. “I think Solomon wronged Ra, that we’ve wronged all the demons, or gods, or whatever we call them. By entering into this agreement around the Scroll of Solomon, Erasmus made us oppressors. The ceremony doesn’t only solve my problem, but it rights a wrong. Ra shouldn’t have to fight me any more than I should him. I can’t do anything about his imprisonment in the Abyss, but I refuse to be imprisoned or to imprison, which is the only outcome of the Trial. Please. Let’s at least try this.”
Drusus’ voice softened. “Is this what you want? Even with my offer to be your Anchor?”
“You are the last person I would want to put in danger. I won’t allow you to be my Anchor.”
Drusus clenched his fists. Lucy held her breath.
“Let’s try this.” Paolo smiled like a crocodile. “Claudian, you will be there during the ritual and you will watch every move I make. You will oversee everything. You let her try. If it doesn’t work, what have you lost? You can have her Trial. This is the only way she has a chance.”
We must kill him.
Lucy did not know whether Ra meant Paolo or Drusus. She furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head.
Carlo nodded. “Don’t worry. I cannot be your Anchor, but I will make sure nothing happens to you.”
Drusus blew out a breath. “We will try your scheme, Borgia. I don’t like it, but we will try. I warn you, if anything happens—”
“I will think all the threats you would issue to me and save you the trouble of vocalization. Nothing I have not heard before. Given our time shortage, I say we get right to it. There are a few things we will need to make a magic circle. With my connections in the city, we should have the materials in no time at all.”
The Vessel of Ra Page 11
