The Brightest Star in the North

by Meredith Rusu

  Carina traced the letters on the page. There wasn’t much written in the book that she could understand. The keepers had taught the children in the home how to read English, but Italian was completely foreign to her. And it wasn’t as though she could ask them for help learning it. Mrs. Altwood was the only keeper in the home who knew about Carina’s token, and the old woman had instructed Carina to keep the book out of sight. It was very unusual for a child to have such a valuable-looking book, let alone one with a ruby on the cover.

  “Le stelle si derectus,” Carina repeated. Even if she didn’t understand it, she was determined to read it. That way, whenever she did learn Italian, she would know every word by heart.

  I wonder, did my father read these very words? She ran her finger along the misaligned scribbles. Maybe he is still alive, searching for me. He must be a very wise man. Not many people would leave their child a book with charts of the stars. Maybe he’s a scientist.

  Carina turned the pages delicately, as if they were made from pressed flower petals. She stopped when she reached the very first page in the book. A name was inscribed in bold ink:

  GALILEO GALILEI

  Galileo Galilei wasn’t her father; she knew that much. Her last name was Smyth. But whenever she asked the keepers about Galileo Galilei, they either shook their heads or brushed her aside, telling her to mind the matters of a properly behaved young woman.

  Yet tucked in the back of Carina’s memory alongside the wispy recollections of ships and a song, Carina had an inkling that Galileo Galilei was a man of science.

  “Galileo Galilei,” she whispered to herself. “That sounds like the name of a scholar.”

  A stern voice rang out across the room. “Look sharp!”

  Instantly, all the children snapped to attention.

  Mr. Conway strode into the room, followed by two keepers. As quick as a rabbit, Carina slipped the book in her pillowcase.

  He looked down his nose at the children.

  “It has come to my attention that there are stolen items here at the home,” he said.

  The children all murmured in concern. That made Mr. Conway smile.

  “Items which have been stolen by the wards here,” he continued. “Your belongings will be searched. Anyone discovered with stolen valuables will be severely punished.”

  The keepers began dumping all the children’s meager possessions into the center of the room. There wasn’t much. A corncob doll. A woven blanket. Some spare clothing and toy hoops.

  Meanwhile, the children looked at one another in fear. Stealing was punishable by whipping, or even being sent to the workhouses. Carina could see the other children racking their brains, trying to remember if there was anything in their belongings they shouldn’t have.

  The keepers reached James’s bed and flipped the frame over. Carina gulped. James’s token satchel fell open, and a cascade of marbles spilled onto the floor. But Mr. Conway didn’t seem to notice. None of the keepers did. In fact, Carina had a feeling Mr. Conway’s eyes were on her the whole time.

  The keepers reached her bed next. They flipped it over, spilling her lumpy pillow, spare shift, and prized book on the floor.

  “Well, well, what have we here?” Mr. Conway stepped forward. In one swift motion, he snatched the book from the floor. “A rare and valuable tome such as this surely couldn’t belong to an orphan girl, could it, Miss Smyth?”

  “That is my token!” Carina cried, lunging forward. The keepers held her back, gripping her arms tightly enough to leave marks. “It was left with me as an infant, by my father.”

  Mr. Conway tsked. “Come now, child, you’ll need a better story than that to save you from the whip. Even your friends know that story is a lie.”

  Mr. Conway glanced in Sarah’s direction. The girl flushed and lowered her head.

  “Sarah?” Carina’s voice caught.

  James spoke up. “She’s not lying. Carina has had that book her whole life.”

  “Perhaps you would like to join your friend in punishment?” Mr. Conway’s eyes flashed in James’s direction.

  Rustling skirts suddenly whooshed through the door. “What is going on here?” Mrs. Altwood demanded. “What has happened to the children?”

  “What has happened,” Mr. Conway said, placing Carina’s book securely in his jacket, “is that we have discovered a thief in our midst.”

  “He took my token!” Carina cried desperately. The keepers still held her back, and her arms began to prickle with pins and needles.

  “Mr. Conway, I can attest that the child has had that book ever since she arrived,” Mrs. Altwood said. “Ever since she was born. She is not lying—it was left to her by her father. It said as much in the letter from the keepers of her previous home.”

  “Then her father must have stolen it,” Mr. Conway snapped. “What abandoned water rat is left with such a valuable item?”

  “My father left it for me to learn from, to study!” Carina blurted out. “It is by Galileo Galilei, a man of science.”

  The secretary slowly turned his head in Carina’s direction. “Careful, girl. Or there will be more than just the whip in your future.”

  But Carina was furious. “You accuse me of stealing, but it is you who are the thief!”

  “Enough!” Mr. Conway’s voice made the children shudder. “Bring her to my study. I will personally make sure she answers for her crime.”

  The keepers shoved Carina toward the door. Meanwhile, Mrs. Altwood hurried out of the room with the same rustle of skirts with which she had arrived.

  Carina shot one last look at Sarah, whose head still hung low, before the door to the common quarters slammed.

  THE CLOCK IN THE CORNER of Mr. Conway’s study ticked by the seconds with striking severity. Carina stared hard at the secretary. He sat at his desk, tapping his fingers on the cover of the book in time with the clock.

  “Tell me, child,” he said. “If your father owned this, then where did he obtain it?”

  “I do not know, sir,” Carina said through gritted teeth.

  “You don’t know?” the man asked. “But you were so certain it was not stolen.”

  “It was not stolen by me,” Carina replied. “My father passed it to me as my birthright. It was clearly his intention for me to study it.”

  A smile played across Mr. Conway’s lips. “Was your father”—he read the opening page of the book—“‘Galileo Galilei’?”

  Carina shook her head. “My last name is Smyth.”

  “Are you aware, Miss Smyth, of who Galileo Galilei is?”

  Carina paused. “He is a man of science.”

  “Was a man of science.” The secretary closed the book, allowing the ruby to catch the light from the window. “And science is forbidden for a girl to study. The content of this diary is strictly for men. Should you pursue it any further, you will be taken for a witch.”

  Carina caught her breath. “It is a diary?”

  Mr. Conway’s smile turned to a sneer. “I tell you that you are in danger of being branded a witch, a crime punishable by death, and your main concern is that this book is a diary?”

  Carina didn’t reply.

  “I am doing you a favor, Miss Smyth,” Mr. Conway said. “Forget this book and we shall let the entire incident pass.”

  At that, Carina’s temper flared. “I am not leaving without my token! It is my birthright. You wish to steal it because of the ruby!”

  Carina had never seen the man’s eyes flash so viciously. She knew she was in great danger. But nothing else mattered to her now—only the book.

  “I daresay the gallows certainly are in your future,” the secretary said, his voice low and menacing. “But I am a fair man. I will give you a chance to earn this token back.”

  Mr. Conway flipped the book open to a random page.

  “Read the words on this page, and I will return the book to you,” he said.

  Carina breathed shallowly as she stepped forward. She looked down at the page Mr. Conwa
y had opened to, her heart pounding.

  And then she smiled.

  “’Tutte le verità saranno comprese quando le stesse si saranno derectus,’” she read smoothly, happy all her practice had come in handy.

  Mr. Conway’s face flushed red with anger.

  “Demon child! Where did you learn to read that?”

  “I have read the words correctly,” Carina said, triumphant. “Return my token.”

  “I will return nothing,” Mr. Conway spat. “You have only proven yourself to be in the devil’s service. No child would know how to speak this language, let alone read it.”

  Carina was ready to explode. “You must keep your promise!” she exclaimed. “Tutte le verità saranno comprese quando le stesse si saranno derectus! Tutte le verità saranno comprese quando le stesse si saranno derectus! It means…well, it says—”

  “All truths will be understood once the stars align.”

  Carina and Mr. Conway whirled toward the new voice. In the doorway stood Mrs. Altwood with a man in stately attire whom Carina had never seen before.

  “Lord Willoughby.” Mr. Conway stood at attention. “I was not expecting your arrival.”

  “I asked him to come,” Mrs. Altwood said, “as the benefactor of this home.”

  The man strode into the room. “I hear there has been a disruption,” he said. “That a child has been accused of theft.”

  Mr. Conway nodded. “Unfortunately, yes, my lord. This child was found in possession of a valuable book. Surely no orphan would ever possess such a treasure without theft.”

  Lord Willoughby picked up the book and examined it. “Yes, it is quite a treasure,” he remarked. “I’m sure some would see it only for the gem on its cover.”

  Mr. Conway wilted under Lord Willoughby’s stare.

  “I—I cannot say, my lord,” he stammered. “But surely it cannot remain with the child.”

  “It is my birthright!” Carina shouted. Mrs. Altwood shot her a warning look, and Carina softened her tone. “Left to me by my father, as my token.”

  Lord Willoughby nodded. “A token such as this speaks of great love. Far be it from us to separate a child from the only item she has left from her father. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Conway?”

  The man sputtered. “I—but, my lord—”

  “I believe there are words between us far overdue.” Lord Willoughby spoke to the secretary, but his eyes never left the book. “You will wait for me outside, Mr. Conway, and we will ride to my mansion to discuss your continued patronage of this home.”

  The secretary’s face paled. “Of course, my lord,” he said.

  Mr. Conway glared at Carina venomously before leaving the room. Once the door had closed, Lord Willoughby turned to Carina.

  “Is this book indeed your token?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Carina said, tears beginning to fall. “My father meant for me to have it. Mrs. Altwood told me to keep it hidden.”

  The man handed her the book. “Then you must do as Mrs. Altwood says. Unless you keep it out of sight, it will attract more unwanted attention. Do you understand?”

  Carina nodded.

  Lord Willoughby noticed how tightly she clutched the book.

  “Do you speak Italian?” he asked gently.

  Carina shook her head. “No, sir. I do not.”

  “But I heard you recite the words when Mr. Conway asked,” Lord Willoughby replied. “Tutte le verità saranno comprese quando le stesse si saranno derectus.”

  “I have been trying to read them,” Carina admitted. “And sounding them out as best I could.”

  “I see.” The man thought for a long moment. “Mr. Conway is right about one thing, at least: it is not becoming of a young lady to dabble in science.”

  Lord Willoughby looked at Mrs. Altwood. “There is nothing else known about her father?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Mrs. Altwood replied. “The child has no one.”

  “And yet, he left her this,” Lord Willoughby said. “Very strange indeed.” He contemplated quietly to himself. “I suppose…the study of language is not unheard of for a girl. In fact, it can be of great value. Tell me, Carina, do you wish to learn Italian?”

  Carina’s eyes shone. She nodded vehemently, too emotional to speak. She had always heard of Lord Willoughby’s generosity but had had no idea it extended that far.

  The man smiled. “Then so you shall. Mrs. Altwood and I will see to that.”

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK?” James asked curiously.

  Carina grinned. “I think we should do it.”

  The children reread the sign posted on the town store.

  COME ONE, COME ALL!

  FESTIVAL AND REVELRY

  GAMES, DELIGHTS, AND MYSTERIES FROM AFAR!

  It was summertime. Nearly a year had passed since the incident with Mr. Conway. Carina and James had been sent along with other children from the home to purchase trinkets for the upcoming wedding of Miss Esther, one of the keepers’ friends.

  “The sign says it’s this weekend,” said Carina excitedly. “The keepers won’t even notice we’re missing. They’re all too busy with the wedding preparations. And Mrs. Altwood is away until the end of the month, visiting her sister. We can sneak out and return home before sunset. They’ll never know we were away.”

  “What are you two talking about?”

  Sarah came up behind them, carrying an armful of ribbons and buttons.

  “Nothing to concern yourself with,” Carina said brusquely. She turned and led James down the street.

  Sarah groaned. “Are you ever going to forgive me, Carina?”

  “For nearly costing me the one thing I care about most?” Carina clutched her satchel more tightly. The book had never left her side since the incident with Mr. Conway. “Highly unlikely.”

  “I told you,” Sarah insisted, trying to keep up. “Mr. Conway forced me to tell him where it was. I didn’t know he was going to take it.”

  “But you told him I stole it?” Carina whirled on Sarah. The girls had had the same argument many, many times before. “You were jealous that you didn’t have a token, and you tried to have mine taken away,” Carina said. “What’s worse, I thought you were my friend. I will not make that mistake twice.”

  Sarah winced.

  “Let’s go,” Carina said to James. “The keepers need these supplies. We don’t want to arouse any other suspicions by staying away for too long.”

  * * *

  The weekend of the festival arrived. Carina had been right: sneaking away from the children’s home had been incredibly easy, thanks to all the commotion the keepers were making over Esther’s wedding. Carina and James slipped out in the afternoon without so much as a second look from anyone.

  “This is so exciting!” said James. “I’ve always wanted to see a festival.”

  “I want to know what ‘mysteries from afar’ the poster was talking about,” Carina said, her eyes shining. “Maybe there will be craftsmen there from France, or even Italy!”

  By habit, Carina reached down and patted Galileo’s diary, safely tucked in her satchel. Lord Willoughby had kept his promise. Twice a week, Carina practiced Italian with a tutor all the way from London. It was an incredibly rare opportunity for a young girl, let alone an orphan. Carina had picked up the basics remarkably quickly; even the master noted that she was an exceptionally motivated student. Mrs. Altwood and Lord Willoughby had firmly instructed Carina to keep the lessons to herself, lest she draw envy from her peers. Carina had listened, for the most part. The only one who knew she had been taking the lessons was James.

  “Can you read the book now?” James asked eagerly.

  “It’s hard,” Carina admitted. “The master is patient with me. I can read from his lesson manual, but I’m having trouble reading Galileo’s diary.”

  “I still can’t believe you’re learning Italian.” James shook his head. “You must have been born under a lucky star to be so fortunate.”

  Carina smiled. “Actually, th
e master told me that I’m named after a constellation.” Carina took Galileo’s diary from her satchel and pointed to the symbol on the cover: a cluster of five stars with the ruby in the center. “Carina is the name of the brightest star in the north,” she explained. “That’s what my father named me after. He must have been an astronomer to do that.”

  “An astronomer?” James asked.

  Carina nodded. “Someone who gains knowledge by studying the stars.”

  James hesitated. “You mean like…like a witch?”

  “No, no.” Carina shook her head. “The very opposite. Witches do not exist. But if they did, they would be practicing magic. Science is the opposite of magic. It is the study of truth.”

  James looked a little overwhelmed. “You frighten me sometimes when you speak. I do not know any other girl who talks the way you do. Of stars, and science, and magic.”

  Carina laughed. “But I do not speak of magic. Only science…and anything I have learned from the master. Well, what he has mentioned. He doesn’t want me to focus on the contents of the diary. Only the language.”

  The friends had reached the village. A large field off the square center was decorated entirely for the festival. Carina and James gasped. They had never seen anything like it! Tents and poles with ribbons were arranged everywhere. Pens were filled with prized livestock. There were flowers. And people! Carina could not remember seeing so many people in one place at the same time. Men and women and children, all enjoying the music and revelry.

  “This is incredible,” Carina breathed. “Come, James!”

  The friends ran forward, laughing. They inhaled the festival air, rich with the scents of ale and sugary treats. They watched as men competed in feats of strength, and several times they needed to scamper away as the competition turned into an all-out brawl. Carina marveled at women in fine clothes waving fans and young folks playing games of chance.

  “I wish we could play a game,” said James, longingly eyeing village children bobbing for apples.

  “We will,” said Carina. “If that’s what you’d like to spend our coins on. But we only have a few. Let’s see the whole festival before deciding.”