Rebel Genius

by Michael Dante DiMartino

  His Genius hopped around, curiously inspecting the alcove.

  “This is your home now. I know it’s a little smelly and dark, but no one comes down here, so you’ll be safe.”

  It flew up and pecked at the ceiling, letting out a long string of frustrated chirrups.

  “You’ll get used to living down here. It’s the most free you can be in Virenzia, if you ask me. No one tells you what to do, where to go, what to draw…”

  Apparently reassured by Giacomo’s explanation, his Genius chittered and then nestled in the hay next to him. Maybe it was able to understand him when it really wanted to.

  Within seconds, his Genius was asleep, its head tucked close to its body, its translucent wings wrapped around itself like a blanket. Its gem had dimmed, but still emitted enough light to see.

  Giacomo rolled onto his side and tried sleeping too, but the excitement of the night hadn’t worn off yet. He was thrilled the Creator had finally given him what he’d always dreamed of, but his joy was mixed with dread. He knew that if given the chance, Supreme Creator Nerezza would take his Genius and he’d become a Lost Soul, like his parents had.

  Restless, he dug out his sketchbook and charcoal and began to draw.

  * * *

  Without a doubt, Virenzia was the worst city in the world to have a Genius in. But it was the only home Giacomo had ever known. Even if he mustered the nerve to leave, where would he go? Taking refuge in the forest or farmland outside the city wasn’t a great option—he didn’t have the first clue how to live off the land. Not to mention the countless wild animals stalking the countryside, hunting for easy prey. Fleeing to another state in the Zizzolan Empire wasn’t any safer. They were all under the Supreme Creator’s rule. Sooner or later, someone would spot his Genius and turn him in. He considered heading north to Katunga. From what his parents had told him, people there had Geniuses too, only they looked like cats instead of birds. Maybe his Genius would be welcomed there? But the Katungan Empire was over a thousand miles to the north, through forests rumored to be guarded by hairy, headless monsters who had eyes and mouths on their torsos. Not interested, Giacomo thought.

  Sailing west to Rachana was out of the question. To hear the longshoremen at the pier tell it, those warmongers would kill any Zizzolan the second he stepped on their soil, peace treaty or not. Virenzia was bad, sure, but his chances beyond its borders were no better.

  Besides, the aqueducts had been his home for almost five years, ever since he ran away from the orphanage. They had kept him safe all this time, so would he really have the courage to leave now?

  After his parents died, the authorities carted Giacomo away to Augustine’s Orphanage for Wayward Youth, an overcrowded, decrepit house at the farthest edge of the city. He bided his time, hopeful that a kind couple would adopt him before too long. But a couple of years passed, and no potential parents ever visited. One day, an older boy named Marco told him the truth.

  “No one here ever gets adopted.”

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Because we belong to her,” Marco said ominously.

  Giacomo had to think for a moment. “You mean the Supreme Creator?”

  “That’s right. She’s never had kids of her own, so she takes the ones no one wants and makes them hers. I have less than a year until I turn ten, then I get to start training for her army.”

  Giacomo began plotting his escape. Even though he was only seven at the time, he knew he never wanted to serve the Supreme Creator, especially not as a soldier. A year later, while Marco and the other boys learned to sword fight in the courtyard, Giacomo pretended to lie in bed sick, then made a break for it. He scaled the wall surrounding the orphanage and snuck away into the sewers. He never looked back.

  But now he had to think about what was best for his Genius. And although he didn’t know a lot about taking care of one—that had always been his parents’ job—he was pretty sure it wasn’t going to love living underground. But being cooped up in a one-bedroom house hadn’t stopped his parents’ Geniuses from inspiring them. At least the sewers had space for low flying and enough room for his Genius to stretch its wings, even when it grew bigger. It was decided, then. He’d stay put. At least for now.

  * * *

  At some point, Giacomo must have drifted off because the next thing he knew his Genius’s beak was waking him with a tap, tap, tap on his forehead. He opened his eyes and stared up. The gem’s red light shone brightly in his face. Giacomo shooed the Genius off and it flew around the alcove, obnoxiously chirping at him to get up.

  “Let me guess, you’re hungry?” He rolled out of bed and brushed off the straw stuck to his clothes. His stomach rumbled and groaned. “I am too. I’ll find us something. But you have to wait here.”

  His Genius let out one last chirp and darted down the tunnel.

  “I said wait!” Giacomo snatched up his satchel and took off after it.

  It flew toward a bright area of the sewer, where a beam of sunlight shone into the tunnel through a clay drainage pipe. The city would be abuzz with activity by now and if anyone saw his Genius … Well, he wouldn’t let that happen.

  “Don’t go in there!” Giacomo reached out but his Genius slipped through his hands and into the pipe.

  Giacomo still had the advantage. He knew the sewers’ every stinky twist and smelly turn, and from what he’d seen last night, his Genius had no sense of direction. Giacomo headed up a narrow staircase to the surface.

  He poked his head up through a drainage opening, then quickly ducked down again as a horse-drawn cart wheeled right over him. Once it passed, he popped out of the sewers and mixed into the crowd.

  He weaved between men and women who trudged through the streets with vacant expressions. Armored soldiers holding spears stood on every corner, keeping an eye on the passersby. When a one-legged man on crutches hobbled to the corner and began begging for coins, a soldier immediately dragged him off. People looked the other way, as if the man didn’t exist, unwilling or too afraid to help. Giacomo felt ashamed for not going to the man’s aid, but like everyone else, he had his own problems to deal with.

  He hurried over to a dry fountain filled with dead leaves and peered into the drain. He spotted a red glow growing brighter, and covered the hole with his open satchel. A second later, his Genius hit the satchel with a muffled squeak. Giacomo pulled the flap down, trapping the creature, which threw itself against the sides of the bag.

  “Stop fighting me,” Giacomo whispered. “I’m trying to protect you.”

  The Genius chirped loudly. A soldier across the street looked around, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. His gaze stopped on Giacomo. Giacomo leaned against the wall, acting nonchalant, but his satchel swung wildly, yanking him back and forth. He grabbed the bag and tucked it tightly under his arm.

  Giacomo waved to the soldier. “Good morning, signor! Beautiful day, isn’t it?” He smiled innocently.

  The soldier snarled. Giacomo hustled down the street, whispering to his Genius, “Be quiet, or it’s off to the Supreme Creator’s dungeon for both of us.”

  His Genius seemed to get the gist of that, and calmed down.

  Farther up the street, Giacomo spotted an elderly man in a shabby green tunic pushing a cart full of fruit. He licked his lips. “I think I found our breakfast.”

  He waited for the fruit seller to turn his back. When the man began haggling with a red-cheeked woman about the price of some moldy lemons, Giacomo sidled up to the cart and deftly lifted three apples. By the time the fruit seller finished his deal with the woman, Giacomo was gone.

  * * *

  Back in his hideout, Giacomo took a huge bite of an apple, which turned to mush between his teeth. But since he was starving and hadn’t paid for it, he wasn’t about to complain. He devoured his meal, then licked the remaining juice off his fingers. On the ground next to him, his Genius pecked at another apple, already riddled with holes. He kept the third apple tucked away in his bag for later.


  “See? I can take care of you,” Giacomo bragged. “But don’t fly off like that again.”

  Belly bulging, Giacomo’s Genius let out a satisfied chirp.

  Giacomo spent the rest of the day alternating between drawing and napping. Thankfully, his Genius didn’t try to escape again. For dinner, they shared the last apple. When night arrived, Giacomo prepared to head out to Beppe’s Bakery.

  But as he was about to leave, he heard footsteps splashing from down the tunnel. Giacomo froze and cocked his head. His Genius mimicked his movement and let out a tiny chirp.

  “Shh. Did you hear that?” Had the soldier who spotted him earlier tracked him down here? Or was it another Lost Soul? Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

  He scooped up his Genius, clamping his hand over its gem to block the light. He tiptoed out of the alcove, shifting away from the footsteps. Giacomo ducked behind an archway and glanced back the way he’d come. A lantern’s yellow light filled the tunnel. He was surprised to hear children’s voices.

  “Let’s at least go up for some air,” a raspy-voiced boy said. “I’m seriously about to throw up and I’d hate for you girls to see that.”

  “As long as you don’t get any vomit on my dress, it doesn’t bother me,” a girl’s voice shot back.

  “It won’t be that much longer,” a second, younger-sounding girl said. “I think we’re getting close.”

  Giacomo relaxed a bit. At least they weren’t soldiers or Lost Souls. Maybe they were other street kids like him? Still, he had to be careful. But before he could get a look at the intruders, Giacomo’s Genius squirmed out of his hands and flew toward the voices. He cursed its recklessness.

  Giacomo peered out from his hiding spot and helplessly watched as his Genius’s red light moved closer to the yellow glow. He braced himself for the worst.

  “Look,” the boy said. “It’s a Genius!”

  “See, I told you we’d find it!” the youngest voice proudly shouted.

  They didn’t sound surprised at all. Giacomo’s mind spun. How did the girl know my Genius would be down here?

  The children rounded the corner and Giacomo’s breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t a lantern creating the yellow light, but a circular gem in the crown of a round, purple-and-orange-plumed Genius only slightly bigger than Giacomo’s. Gliding behind it were two others, over twice the size of his Genius. One was white, with a thin, curved neck and a long beak like a crane; the other resembled a falcon, with brown and tan feathers, a hooked beak, and beady black eyes. Giacomo’s Genius made a high-pitched zheezheezhee as it happily circled the others.

  Giacomo watched with a probing gaze, his heart racing. Who are these kids and how do they all have Geniuses?

  4

  THE BLIND ARTIST

  Once the shock of seeing other Geniuses wore off, Giacomo focused his attention on the three children with them. The boy wore a blue cloak so dark in hue it was nearly black, while the girls were each draped in olive. Made of wool and tailored to fit their bodies, the cloaks were similar to the outer garments of Virenzia’s upper class. There was no way this trio was from the streets. But where would three kids with Geniuses be able to live without being caught?

  “Where’s your artist?” the youngest girl asked Giacomo’s Genius, gently holding out her hand. Without hesitation, his Genius landed on her finger. Her brown skin was at least three shades darker than the skin of the other girl and boy. A thick black braid hung over each shoulder, down to her waist. The purple and orange Genius, which looked like a robin, circled her and landed on top of her head, nestling in her hair.

  “Anyone down here?” The boy’s voice echoed. His black hair was cropped short, bangs cut in a hard line across his forehead. In his right hand he held a pencil. “You might as well come out now, otherwise I’ll have to drag you out.”

  “Don’t be such a bully, Savino,” the girl with the braids said. “He—or she—is probably just scared.”

  Savino waved his arm dismissively. “Aaminah, I got this.” He whistled and the falcon Genius landed on his shoulder. The gem on its crown shot out a beam of blue light that glimmered across the wet stones. It only took a few seconds for Savino to spot Giacomo’s hideout. “Nice work, Nero.” He fed the Genius a piece of food from his pocket and marched toward the alcove. “Milena, over here. I found something.”

  The older girl hiked up her cloak and dress to avoid dragging them through the muck and caught up to Savino. Her smooth brown hair was pulled tightly into a bun and tied with a ribbon. A band of gold with inlaid beads crowned her head. She cradled a paintbrush in her left hand. The Genius with the curved neck glided gracefully behind and landed on her shoulder.

  “I can’t believe someone actually lives here,” Milena said as she looked into the alcove.

  Giacomo felt embarrassed, then immediately offended. Who is she to judge how I live?

  “We know you’re down here,” Milena called out. “And we’re here to help. We can take you and your Genius somewhere safe. But you have to stop hiding.”

  She sounded sincere, but Giacomo had no way of knowing whether he could believe her.

  Savino emerged from the hideout with Giacomo’s sketchbook. He flipped through its pages. “I’ve seen worse.”

  Giacomo clenched his hands. Stupid! He’d forgotten to take his belongings.

  Savino held up a drawing for the girls to see. “Check out this portrait. You think it’s who we’re looking for? He’s kinda grumpy-looking, if you ask me.”

  Without thinking, Giacomo ran out and hurled himself at the boy. “That’s mine, give it back!” He tried to grab the sketchbook from Savino, but he held it over his head, out of Giacomo’s reach.

  “Guess it is him. And he looks even more cranky in real life!” Savino teased.

  “That’s mine!” Giacomo yelled, fist shaking. His first instinct was to throw a punch, but now that he was toe to toe with the boy, he thought better of it. Savino stood several inches taller and his broad shoulders stretched his cloak tight. Giacomo poked him in the chest instead. “What are you doing down here?”

  “Better get your finger off me, sewer-boy, or we’re going to have a problem,” Savino threatened.

  “Sorry to show up like this, but we had to find you,” Aaminah said, trying to smooth things over. “Is this your Genius?” Above her head, Giacomo’s Genius chirped and playfully chased Aaminah’s robin Genius.

  “Depends who’s asking,” Giacomo said.

  Savino tilted his head. “Just answer the question.”

  “Why should I? I don’t know who you people are.”

  “There are a bunch of drawings of that Genius in your sketchbook,” Savino said. “Are you telling us it’s not yours?”

  Giacomo stared at the ground, avoiding Savino’s harsh gaze. “I didn’t say it was or it wasn’t.”

  “One way to find out for sure.” Savino whistled rapidly three times. “Nero, attack.” Nero’s wings unfurled and he pushed off Savino’s shoulder, soaring straight toward Giacomo’s Genius. Nero’s talons slashed and nicked the Genius’s side. It let out a pained chirp.

  “Ow!” Giacomo cried, clutching his forearm. Blood trickled down his arm as if Savino’s Genius had clawed at him too. How come every time his Genius got hurt, he felt it too?

  Savino crossed his arms with a self-satisfied smile. “Guess you two are connected.”

  Giacomo burned with anger. He charged Savino and shoved him toward the wall. Bad idea. Savino felt solid as brick.

  He seized the back of Giacomo’s tunic and effortlessly flung him to the ground.

  Aaminah rushed to Giacomo’s side. “Savino, what’s wrong with you? He wasn’t doing anything.”

  Milena shot Savino a dirty look. “Was that really necessary?”

  Nero flew back onto Savino’s shoulder. As a reward, Savino fed his Genius another treat. “He came at me.”

  “Only after your Genius attacked me first!” Giacomo snatched h
is sketchbook out of Savino’s hand. “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

  “I’ve been called worse, usually by these two,” he said, nodding toward the girls.

  “Much worse,” Milena sniped.

  Aaminah knelt down and took Giacomo’s wounded arm in her small hands. “Let me see.” She inspected the cut, then reached into her cloak and pulled out a wooden flute. “Just relax.”

  “I’m not really in the mood for music,” Giacomo said. The scratch stung, but wasn’t too painful. Giacomo’s Genius flew to him, its left wing torn from Nero’s talons.

  “She’s going to treat the injuries,” Milena explained.

  Aaminah’s Genius landed on the back of Giacomo’s hand. He flinched.

  “It’s okay. Luna’s a sweetheart.” Aaminah raised the flute to her lips and gently blew across the mouthpiece. A low tone filled the tunnel. Luna’s circular gem glowed yellow. With each ascending note, waves of light pulsed from the crown, washing over Giacomo’s and his Genius’s wounds.

  It felt like the music was seeping into his arm and vibrating inside it, soothing his soreness and calming his frazzled nerves. The bleeding stopped and the cut sealed up, leaving only a faint red welt. The torn flaps of his Genius’s wing mended too. Was this how his stab wound had healed last night? He didn’t remember hearing any music, just the roar of that crazy storm.

  “I didn’t know Geniuses could heal like that,” Giacomo said. “Thanks.”

  Aaminah studied him with a curious stare, as if he’d spoken gibberish.

  “What is it?” Giacomo asked.

  Aaminah shook her head. “Nothing.” She smiled sweetly. “What’s your name?”

  “Giacomo.”

  “I’m Aaminah, this is Milena and her Genius, Gaia, and that’s Savino.”

  Giacomo gave them perfunctory nods.

  “What’s your Genius’s name?” Aaminah asked.

  Giacomo swallowed. “Uh … I don’t have one for it yet.”

  “How have you gone through your whole life without naming your Genius?” Milena asked.