Milena looked at her sketchbook, like she didn’t recognize her own handwriting. “Before I fell asleep, I was on a roll. But I could barely keep my eyes open.”
“The last word has to be Alessio,” Giacomo said.
“Right! Of course!” Milena filled in the letter L. “And if that’s the case the second word begins with an L.”
“Lies!” Savino proclaimed.
“I’m not lying, it’s the same symbol,” Milena said.
“I wasn’t calling you a liar,” Savino said. “The word is lies.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“‘The Compass lies in a…’” Giacomo read the first line, which was nearly complete.
“Case?” Savino said, trying to guess the last word.
“Cave,” Milena said confidently. “‘The Compass lies in a cave.’”
“The message is about the Cave of Alessio,” Savino said with disappointment. “It’s telling us what we already know. Or what we thought we already knew.”
But Giacomo wasn’t ready to give up. They still had two lines of the message to decipher. He began sounding out S words. “Sh, sl, sn…”
“Shaped!” Milena exclaimed, filling in the first word on the second line. “Shaped by the Creator’s…”
“The last letter has to be D,” Giacomo pointed out. “Hand!”
“‘The Compass lies in a cave, shaped by the Creator’s hand,’” Milena said. There was only one word missing now.
“The Creator’s hand shaped every cave in the world, so not much help there,” Savino complained.
Milena shot him an annoyed look. “If you’re not going to help, then be quiet.” She and Giacomo stared at the final word.
o_sc_red
“Any ideas?” Giacomo said.
“On … or … ob … obscured!” Milena declared in a burst of insight. She filled in the missing letters and reread the entire message. “‘The Compass lies in a cave, shaped by the Creator’s hand, obscured by Alessio.’”
Giacomo had expected the message to shed some light on where they should go next, but he felt more confused now than when they started.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Savino said, exasperated. “We wasted the entire night!”
Giacomo folded his arms on the table and buried his head. They’d have to tell Ozo they didn’t know where the Compass was and he’d march them back to Baldassare’s, empty-handed. The mission had failed, and it was all his fault.
Why was Alessio even part of the message? The Compass wasn’t in the cave. It was an illusion, like a projection on the camera obscura’s wall.
Obscura … Obscured … The similarity of the two words couldn’t be a coincidence.
Giacomo jolted upright. “The message isn’t a dead end. It’s a huge breakthrough!” He jumped up from his chair. “I know what we need to do!”
“Where are you going?” Milena asked.
“Back into the camera obscura.”
“You said you never wanted to open the Wellspring again,” Milena reminded him.
“I don’t,” Giacomo said. “I have a different idea. Hopefully one that’s a lot less painful.”
Giacomo hustled out of the room, followed by Milena and Savino. A flutter of feathers blew past them into the hall. Their Geniuses were awake, ready for a new day.
* * *
Giacomo covered his nose and ran past the Tulpas’ cages, turning away from the carnage within.
Across from the camera obscura, Giacomo found the mechanism responsible for projecting the images. He’d breezed past it the first time, mistaking it for a small cabinet. He pulled open the door, revealing an unlit lantern inside. Above the lantern was a venting tube, probably for smoke. In front of the lantern was a second tube that extended out through the cabinet’s wall and aimed directly at the camera obscura—this was how the light was projected. Mounted on the outside of the cabinet was a large wooden disc inset with round illustrations on vellum—these were the anatomical drawings and shapes Giacomo had seen on the wall. Ropes attached to the projector cabinet looped around a series of pulleys and counterweights suspended from the ceiling, then connected to the camera obscura’s door. The rigging explained how the camera obscura automatically turned on when Giacomo had been locked inside.
He found more vellum drawings stacked next to the lantern and flipped through them until he found the image he’d hoped for—a map of central Zizzola.
“The Cave of Alessio is here.” With charcoal, Giacomo marked an X next to a winding river on the vellum map. Then he slid it into the wooden disc on the projector. “Savino, I need you to stay out here and flip this map when I tell you to.”
Savino took his post next to the projector cabinet. Giacomo then ushered Milena inside the camera obscura and closed the door, sealing them in. He heard the clicking and whirring of the contraption coming to life.
“It’s working!” Savino confirmed.
A beam of light shot through the camera obscura’s gem. The map of Zizzola appeared on the opposite wall, upside down.
A smile crossed Milena’s face as she realized what Giacomo was up to. “Obscured by Alessio. Brilliant thinking using the camera obscura like this, Giacomo.”
Milena’s compliment sent a tingle up his neck. Does she really think I’m brilliant?
Giacomo marked the wall where the X indicating Alessio’s Cave was projected. “Savino, now flip the drawing of the map!”
Zizzola vanished for a moment, leaving a wall of white. When the map reappeared, it was right-side up. With the map inverted, the X on the wall now marked a new location—a mountain directly to the north of Alessio’s Cave.
Giacomo pointed at the mountain. “That’s where we’ll find the Compass.”
Milena passed her left hand in front of the map, casting a shadow of her arm. “So the Compass in Alessio’s Cave must’ve been a projection of the real Compass, like this map being projected by the lantern.”
“Sure seems like it,” Giacomo said.
Savino opened the door and looked in. “So did you figure out where we’re going?”
With her long, shadowy finger, Milena pointed to the new mark on the map. “The Abscondita Mountains.”
Savino hung his head and sighed. “Are you kidding?”
“No. Is that a problem?” Giacomo said.
“Only that we’ll have to cross through Terra della Morte.” He pointed to a long jagged strip that cut across the map, between the duke’s castle and their new destination.
“The Land of Death…” Milena said hopelessly.
Giacomo wrung his hands together. They felt cold and damp. “It can’t be that bad … Can it?”
13
A NEW ALLY
Zanobius reclined against a slanted rock, his four legs stretched out in front of him, and stared up at the cloudless night sky. Though relaxed, Zanobius could be on his feet at a moment’s notice if Enzio tried to sneak out of the cave. But the boy had pretty much kept to himself the past few days. The most he spoke was to ask if he could leave to urinate in the bushes. For food, Zanobius collected some fruit from the nearby trees, along with handfuls of berries. Enzio gobbled them up without a word.
Zanobius also kept an eye out in case the boy named Giacomo returned. But there had been no sign of him since their initial encounter. The Compass had vanished not long after, which seemed odd. Did the boy have anything to do with it?
His attention turned back to Enzio, who snored peacefully in the cave. Zanobius longed to know what it was like to sleep, to let his mind go somewhere else, even for a few hours. He imagined it was much more relaxing than his blackouts. Every time Zanobius lost consciousness, he woke riddled with questions and fears and uncertainty. When humans rose, they seemed refreshed and not confused by their surroundings.
So he spent his nights staring up at the heavens, connecting the shining dots to form pictures of animals or people. Some were the images discovered by the ancients—Cassian’s Bow, Morlok the Bear, the long tail and
mane of Laterna’s Lion. But if he got creative, he could also connect the specks of light to form his own pictures. Tonight he found the outline of Ugalino’s angular face—its high cheekbones, long nose, and stern expression.
“You ever sleep?” Enzio stood over Zanobius and stared up at the sky, which was beginning to lighten with dawn’s arrival. The stars blinked out, one by one.
Zanobius sat up, surprised that Enzio had spoken. “No. I can’t. My master told me it’s a downside of being a Tulpa.”
“That sounds pretty awful,” Enzio said.
“You should probably get back in the cave,” Zanobius said, waving him away. “In case Ugalino comes back.”
Enzio looked around. “He’s been gone for days, I doubt he’s going to show up right this second. Where is your delightful master, anyway?”
“You find him pleasant?” Zanobius asked.
“I was being sarcastic,” Enzio explained. “Don’t Tulpas have a sense of humor?”
“I’m not sure.” His master wasn’t one to joke around, so it was possible he had deprived Zanobius of the ability too.
“So where is he?” Enzio asked again.
“My master doesn’t always tell me where he’s going. Sometimes he disappears for days. But he always comes back, sooner or later.”
“Sounds like my father,” Enzio said. “Always off dealing with some Council business, or buying illegal art, or looking for more Geniuses. I barely ever see him.”
Zanobius sat up and gestured for Enzio to join him, curious about what he might have to say. The boy took a seat on a rock facing him. “Your father … he’s looking for the Compass too?”
“Finding the Sacred Tools has been his obsession,” Enzio said. “It’s the whole reason he started recruiting kids with Geniuses and bringing them to our villa. He and Pietro have been preparing them for this big, important mission for years. That’s all he’s cared about.”
“Did you train with them?”
Enzio shook his head and looked off toward the river. “In my home, if you didn’t have a Genius, you didn’t have much of a purpose.”
“Your father had a Genius?”
“No, that’s the thing. I think he wished like crazy he had one. And when it became clear I wasn’t going to have one either, he starting looking to other places.”
“That’s when he found the children who had Geniuses?”
Enzio nodded with a bitter frown. “What’s with all the questions?”
“You came out to talk to me,” Zanobius reminded him.
“Point taken,” Enzio said with a shrug.
“I’m intrigued by humans,” Zanobius went on. “Why they act in ways that seem against their self-interest.”
“Like how?”
“Take your father. Rather than accept his own son for who he is, he formed a rift between him and you. He put his all-consuming passion over his own family. What if he doesn’t get what he wants? What if, after all this, my master finds the Compass first? He’ll have alienated you for nothing.”
Enzio snorted dismissively. “And you think you and Ugalino have some kind of ideal relationship? All he does is boss you around and order you to kill people. Humans might be messed up, but at least we have the choice to make stupid mistakes.”
Had Zanobius ever attempted to do something different from what his master told him? He tried to recall even one choice he’d made on his own, but all he found in his shattered memory were the traces of Ugalino’s commands.
“How did you do it?” Zanobius asked.
“Do what?”
“Speak out against your father. You called him greedy and selfish and refused to do what he asked of you.”
“It had been building for a while. Pretty much my whole life. I couldn’t stay quiet when he was about to let my mother die.”
“Sometimes Ugalino commands me to do things I don’t want to. Like attacking your mother. Maybe you could show me how to stand up to him?”
“Teach you to rebel against Ugalino?” Enzio shook his head. “No thanks. My father acts tough, but he doesn’t scare me. Ugalino does.”
“I understand. It was a foolish idea.” Zanobius changed the subject. “Are you hungry?”
Enzio raised his eyebrows. “Starving. You have something besides berries?”
“We could catch some fish.” Zanobius gestured to the river.
“Uh … I don’t know how to. Never really had to learn. My father knew the best fisherman in Virenzia.”
“Then I’ll teach you.” Zanobius rose to his feet and waved with his two right arms for Enzio to follow.
“I thought Ugalino told you I wasn’t supposed to leave the cave.”
Zanobius looked back at the boy. “I know, but I’m going to let you anyway. It’s my choice.”
Enzio smiled and jogged over. “See, you don’t need me. Just let that rebellious side come out once in a while.”
“If you try to escape, I will hunt you down and rip you limb from limb,” Zanobius warned. Enzio halted in terror. A huge smile spread across Zanobius’s face. “I was being sarcastic,” he said proudly.
“I don’t think you quite get the concept yet,” Enzio remarked.
They walked down to the river. Zanobius found two branches about the length of his arm and tied a piece of twine around the end of each. He dug in the dirt and pulled out a couple of long, juicy worms.
“No fish will be able to resist these,” he said, impaling the worms onto bone hooks that he had attached to the twine. Enzio looked disgusted as the bait wriggled, trying to free themselves. Zanobius handed one of the fishing lines to Enzio, who held it vertically.
“No, you need to angle it, like this.” Zanobius extended his stick over the river, letting the hooked worm plop into the water. Enzio copied Zanobius’s movements.
“Now what?” Enzio asked.
“Now, we wait.”
Zanobius smiled at Enzio, content in the moment. Though there were many things he didn’t admire about humans, he was envious of their ability to form friendships with each other. It was astounding that two people, bound neither by blood nor duty, could form an alliance.
“Tulpas can’t make friends,” Ugalino often reminded Zanobius, “only enemies. Humans fear what they don’t understand.” He had always believed this to be true, but talking with Enzio, he began to question whether things could be different. Not that he expected Enzio would want to be his friend after Zanobius had almost killed him and his mother.
The sun peeked out from behind the mountain and its rays glinted off the water’s surface like a thousand shimmering candle flames. After a long silence, Enzio spoke up.
“I have to ask, did your master put those tattoos on you?”
Zanobius nodded, relieved to remember something from his past. “After he sculpted me, Ugalino drew this pattern on me to bring me to life. He told me this design connects me to the Creator and the universe, though I have to admit, I’m not exactly sure how.”
“Did he tell you why he gave you four arms and four legs?”
“They’re supposed to make me a perfectly proportioned man,” Zanobius replied. “I never quite understood what he meant by that either.”
“Seems like your master keeps you in the dark about a lot of things.”
Before Zanobius could explain about his blackouts, Enzio’s line tugged, splashing the water’s surface.
“Pull it up!” Zanobius instructed.
Enzio yanked on the stick and an enormous green-scaled fish flung itself into the air, tugging against the twine. He let it drop on the sand, where it flopped from one side to the other. After a few seconds, the fish lay still.
Enzio’s mouth hung agape. “What do I do with it now?”
“Eat it,” Zanobius said. “Why do humans overthink even their basic survival?”
Zanobius brought out his knife and showed Enzio how to gut the fish, cutting a long line down its belly. He scooped out a handful of warm, slippery insides and tossed them into the
water. Enzio wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t realize fishing would be so … gross.”
“It would do you good to spend some time outside that stuffy villa of yours.”
“Assuming I ever make it back home.”
Zanobius built a fire and cooked the fish on a spit over the flames. Once the scales became black and crispy, Zanobius handed the spit to Enzio.
“Aren’t you going to have any?” Enzio asked.
“Tulpas don’t need to eat.”
“Another downside?”
“I suppose so.”
“Then why’d you learn how to fish?”
“My master doesn’t like to get his hands dirty with this kind of thing.”
Enzio eagerly bit into the steaming fish, leaving only the bones and the head. “I can’t eat the heads, even when my mother cooks. I hate how the eyeballs stare back at me. Creeps me out.” He tossed the carcass into a nearby bush.
Ciro’s familiar caw cut through the sky, signaling his master’s return.
“Quick, back into the cave,” Zanobius ordered. Enzio scrambled to his prison while Zanobius stamped out the fire and kicked the fishing lines into the river.
The Genius landed and its master dismounted, carrying a satchel that looked heavy with supplies. “Any problems with the boy?”
“None,” Zanobius said.
“Bring him out,” Ugalino instructed. “I have work to do in the cave.”
When Zanobius emerged with Enzio, he made a show of dragging the boy out by his collar, as though Enzio had been resistant.
Ciro raised his head and looked around, honing in on something. He lumbered toward the bushes and poked his beak into the leaves, finding the carcass of Enzio’s fish. Ciro tossed his head back, swallowing the leftovers in one gulp. Ugalino’s eyes flashed to the smoldering ashes, then to Zanobius.
“The boy wanted to eat something other than berries,” Zanobius said, covering. “I caught a fish and prepared it for him.”
“He’s a good cook for never having tasted food,” Enzio added.
Ugalino regarded Enzio with a probing stare, then he tossed the satchel into Zanobius’s arms. “Grind the pigments. I need blue, white, green, and black.”
Rebel Genius Page 17
