“How long have they been here?” asked Jasper, when it seemed that something else must be asked.
“Oh, well, so many stories.” She chuckled. “I am always the storyteller. Well, they, i fratelli in nero, have always been here.” Then the baker considered for a moment. “Or, perhaps, not always. Perhaps, non conosco.” She looked behind the five children and Miss Brett. Another old woman was walking up the road. This woman pushed a wheelbarrow containing a giant wheel of cheese,
“Ehi! Lattea! Signora Maggio, da quanto tempo i monaci, i fratelli in nero vissuto qui?” the baker said.
Signora Maggio stopped and greeted the children and Miss Brett with hugs and smiles. She gave Miss Brett a large chunk of white cheese wrapped in cloth. “Sahha!” she said to Miss Brett. “Che cosa si chiede, Doclea? What was it you asked?” she said to the baker.
“I fratelli, them in black, da quanto, from when are they?”
Signora Maggio seemed to consider, then nodded. “Circa 350 years.”
The only sound then was Jasper swallowing the chunk of sweet bun he had bitten but forgotten to chew,
“Three hundred and fifty years?” Jasper finally got his voice back as the chunk of bun passed, painfully, down his throat in one piece.
Signora Fornaio seemed to consider this. She looked off into the distance, as if she were counting years in her head. “Yes,” she said, “about 350 years. Perhaps more. Perhaps closer to 450.”
“That’s an awfully long time,” Noah said.
“Yes, and it is the way of Solemano,” Signora Fornaio said, ruffling Noah’s hair as he reached for another bun. “The village is about them.”
“I fratelli in nero?” said Lucy, offering nibbles to a nearby raven.
“She remembers good,” said Signora Fornaio.
“She remembers everything,” said Jasper, proudly.
The baker pet the raven as if it were a cat. The bird closed its eyes and made that strange sound, like falling stones. “These birds are very smart. They know what is in the heart. Is that not right, corvino?” The bird chattered back.
The man with the outsized top hat returned from inside. He opened the door wide and gestured for them to enter. Signora Maggio handed him the huge cheese round. Then the two ladies kissed each of the newcomers on both cheeks. Finally, both ladies began to walk down to the village while the children and Miss Brett turned to go into the house.
As they reached the top of the steps, all six arrivals stood dumbfounded, staring at what was just inside,
“Oh, look! It’s a fairy castle!” cried Lucy, who ran inside. And it was.
Even from where she stood, Miss Brett could see the fine curtains, the beautiful rugs and, unbelievably, the blazing fire in the fireplace. Jasper and Noah looked at each other, then at Wallace, who, too, nodded and smiled.
“It’s brilliant!” Jasper laughed.
“Hey, why didn’t we think of that?” Noah laughed, too.
“Maybe we did,” said Lucy, following their gaze.
Wallace smiled. “I think Lucy may be right. It is possible that we are not the first of the Young Inventors Guild to have come to Solemano.”
Miss Brett looked from one to the next. “What are you talking about?”
Lucy clapped her hands and came running out the door and down the steps. But the boys were transfixed by the ingenious contraption.
Wallace pointed up. “You can see the curve of the tubing branching off at the end,” he explained to Miss Brett, “fanning out and returning to the wall—”
“And there,” said Jasper, pointing to a fan of smaller pipes, “down into the floors. The gears likely turn by small turbines inside, which run from heat flow instead of fluid. The gears must turn something within the pipes, dispersing the heat and generating more.”
“It’s quite clever,” said Wallace. “It functions in a twofold manner.
“Yes.” Jasper smiled to himself. “It not only brings warmth back to the building, but it prevents anyone from seeing smoke coming out of the chimneys.”
Miss Brett, out of curiosity, bent to touch the polished marble floor before the grand, sweeping stairway. It was warm! Not that she had doubted the boys, but it was such an amazing idea. It was a warm marble floor during what was soon to be winter.
Lucy, back outside, ran to the side of the house and peeked down at the terraced gardens. The bird flew beside her, soaring up but always hovering nearby
“They’re splendid!” Lucy called. “It’s like Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland!”
The gardens were spectacular, or surely must have been in their golden days. The terraces were wide levels that descended from one to the next. There were four levels, each with its own tangle of vines or herb gardens or olive orchards or little ponds and bridges. The third level had what looked to be at least fifty small statues on pedestals throughout the garden. There was a crumbled archway that had once led to the garden. On the remaining piece of stone there were some indecipherable words. There even seemed to be a set of steps from one level to the next. The bridge between the olive garden and the garden of statues was much overgrown with vines.
Lucy stared in awe until a little gust of wind gave her a chill. She hurried to join the others inside.
“Come on, Mr. Corvino!” Lucy called to the bird. It made a chattering noise and flew up to the tower. The bird clearly was not interested in coming inside. Slightly saddened, Lucy waved to the bird and re-entered the house.
Inside, it truly was a palace. There were ancient Greek statues and velvet furniture. Beautiful tapestries adorned the walls. There was a fountain and jasmine growing in what seemed to be a glass conservatory attached to the large sitting room, facing the back of the house. The sitting room had huge windows that looked out over the village and the valley below. The six newcomers wandered, looking into the enormous dining room with its table long enough to sit fifty people comfortably. There was a chandelier that looked as though it could hold all five children. There was what appeared to be a ballroom and a morning room. And, to Miss Brett and the children’s delight, there was a library.
The library had a beautiful wrought-iron spiral staircase that led to the upper stacks, which seemed to hold the oldest books in the collection. There were so many books that they’d never be able to look at them all.
There were books on history, geography, and music. There were books in every language they knew, and many they didn’t. Jasper and Wallace found a section on science and invention. There was Narrative of the Surveying Voyages of His Majesty’s Ships Adventure and Beagle, the four volumes of the famous expedition comprising Fitzroy’s narrative and Charles Darwin’s journals. Darwin’s books, The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, Origin of Species, Insectivorous Plants to Worms, and The Descent of Man, were there as well. There were works by William Clifford on mathematics. There was even a copy of Thomas Carlyle’s Sartor Resartus.
Noah found a volume on music and math by an author he had never heard of. The pages looked fragile and yellow. Other books were so worn from use and age he could no longer see what was written on the spines.
Faye was almost certain one said “Galileo.” She found two medieval collections of architectural drawings that made her heart beat faster. Several copies of different volumes of Leonardo da Vinci’s inventions were there. Faye found some of his flying machine drawings, several of which she had never seen before.
Some books told of ancient castles and of kings and queens. There were books of poetry and art. There were loads of dictionaries, huge volumes with old script, including English-Italian, English-Spanish, English-French, English-German, English-Hindi, and, for some reason, English-Maltese and English-Basque. Miss Brett loved dictionaries. They were the gateway to cultures. They brought worlds together. Different worlds all in one place and, through many languages, you could find a common thread. She made a mental note to peruse them when she had a chance.
Several books were not in English or Italian at all,
and at least one seemed to be in Arabic or Persian. One had a delicately hand-painted illustration of a raven on the cover. She could not understand anything within, but the book was exquisitely beautiful,
Miss Brett was glad to see that there was some literature as well—stories she could share with the children, including works by Charles Dickens, Robert Louis Stevenson, Rudyard Kipling, Anna Sewell, R. M. Ballantyne, and Lewis Carroll. Many were beautifully illustrated, with gilded pages and embroidered spines. Lucy loved the drawings from Lewis Carroll. On the shelves also were Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. They even found a collection of the work of the Brothers Grimm, as well as a single illustrated story, “The Raven.”
“We won’t be reading that to Lucy on dark and rainy nights,” Noah whispered to Jasper with a grin.
“Nor this,” said Jasper, pointing to Edgar Allan Poe’s poem of the same name.
There was, as well, a whole shelf of theatrical works, including volumes upon volumes of Shakespeare, as well as works by Marlowe and Ben Jonson. Miss Brett laughed to herself as she saw the title Volpone and thought, Of course, that was . . . Corbaccio—the raven and the miser. Was that his name? She turned the pages. It was then she saw another work, again with the image of the raven on the front. This appeared to be a book of fables, for each one was illustrated, and the stories were short. Basile was the author. How strange, she thought, putting it back on the shelf. So many books seemed to have ravens among their pages.
There was a groaning grumble, and everyone looked at Noah. Cheeks red, he said, “That was my stomach rebelling. It truly hates being ignored.” Noah had come across a cookbook from France, which had sent a message to his middle.
“Oh, do we have to stop?” asked Lucy, nearly hidden by a pile of books. “I’d fancy a longer look around.” She clung to a beautiful book of children’s verses.
“Well, this is now our library sweet angel,” Miss Brett said. “We can come back anytime we like.”
Tearing themselves away from the books was difficult, but Miss Brett’s words struck home. This was their library, at least while they were here.
“I think exploring the kitchen might be our next adventure,” said Miss Brett, putting books back on shelves and helping Lucy to close the book in her hands.
The kitchen was massive, and, again to everyone’s joy, not empty. In addition to the huge pile of potatoes and the round of cheese, the kitchen held a familiar sight.
“Mr. Frilly Apron!” cried Lucy, who ran over to throw herself about his knees. He slapped his hands together in surprise. The frilly apron man had been rolling dough. He looked at Lucy as if she were a puppy that had peed on his shoe, his hands and face now powdered with flour. Lucy now also covered in flour, smiled up at the man, who had no visible grin to return.
“Come, Lucy.” Jasper took his sister’s hand and pulled her off the floury frilly apron man and past the long farm table,
The man in the frilly apron took a ladle from the hook and opened a big pot of hot, richly seasoned potage.
“Oh, that smells lovely.” Lucy hugged herself and rubbed her tummy. “I do suppose I’m famished as well.”
Taking seats around the table, the children were all served a snack of warming stew, filled with roast fennel and pumpkin. It was not spicy, but it had wonderful, strong flavors. Some bread from the bakery was in chunks on the table, as were plates of olive oil,
When they were finished, Lucy thanked the frilly apron man with another squeeze. She had saved a bit of stew in the bottom of her bowl,
“I’ve left this for Mr. Corvino,” she told him, and he nodded, setting her bowl aside.
They set off from the kitchen to explore some more—all but Noah, who found his way to a tin of chocolate biscuits. Faye pulled him from the tin just as Jasper had pulled Lucy from the apron man,
“Can we find our bedrooms, Miss Brett?” asked Faye as they came back together in the foyer
“We don’t have to sleep on the top floor, do we?” Lucy looked stricken as she considered her view earlier of the tattered remains of the upstairs windows,
“Of course not,” Miss Brett said. “There are four floors, as I observed from outside. My guess is that we will find bedrooms on the second floor, just up there.”
“Oh, may we see?” Lucy said, needlessly. “I’m ever so glad we don’t have to sleep in the broken rooms on top. Oh, please may we go see?”
“Certainly,” Miss Brett said, looking around. “I think I’ll join you.” She picked up her skirt and followed at a slower pace as the children ran upstairs.
Miss Brett noted how everything was meticulous and beautifully cared for inside. She was sure that the upper floors were specifically designed to make the palazzo look like ruins. Was there a passage to the upper towers? She would look to find out. If there was a door, she would ensure it remained locked, because it would likely be a dangerous place for the children to wander. The ground floor and the one above would be their home.
The bedrooms upstairs were as magnificent as the rooms downstairs. The first one looked as if it were designed for a queen. The bed was high, but seemed even higher, for it was on a dais, raised a step from the rest of the room. The four posters were very tall, and beautiful lace and silk curtains fell around the bed. Miss Brett’s bags were placed neatly at the foot of the bed.
She looked around the room. It was lovely, with a beautiful bay window and a fainting couch covered in red velvet. The wall had several lovely paintings, one of a child in a garden and one of a bowl of red apples. She looked at the painting of the child. There again, almost hidden among the hedges behind the child, was a raven. There was also a rabbit.
She checked the drawers and found fresh sachets of lavender and pine. There was a large iron key hanging on the wall, too. This, she would find, fit no lock in her room. Looking in the mirror, she pulled back some hairs that had fallen astray and wiped some smudges from her cheeks.
“This must be your room, Miss Brett,” Faye said, although she would have been happy having it herself. Peeking down the hall, she saw there were six more doors leading to six more rooms.
“Well, I am sure you will find plenty of space in this house, Faye,” Miss Brett said, smiling reassuringly, noting how Faye was looking at the other doors. Faye found her bags in the room toward the end of the hall. It had red silks hanging from the bed. There was a drafting table, and some blueprints she had sketched when they were out at sea.
How did they get these? Faye asked herself, remembering that she had left them in the laboratory on the boat. It was thoughtful of the mysterious men in black to have brought them, though Faye would never admit this.
Miss Brett joined her as the others came to see. “I don’t think you will need to share a bed with Lucy.”
“Oh.” Faye tried to smile, but it came out crooked and unbelievable, and she felt a little squeeze in her belly She had thought that, once they got to their destination, she’d be sharing with Lucy again, as she had in the room back at the farmhouse in America. She had grown accustomed to the warm little wiggly girl. She would miss having someone else that near. But she would be fine alone. She had been alone most of her life.
Lucy slid her hand into Faye’s. “Maybe we could share sometimes.” Lucy looked up at Faye.
Faye smiled down at the little girl, who smiled back and then dashed to her own room.
The other bedrooms were just as beautiful. Each room had a big, comfortable bed, wall hangings to keep the cold out, and fires burning in the fireplaces. And they all had the children’s bags waiting. Wallace’s room, next to Miss Brett’s, had a small chemistry laboratory right next to the window. Noah’s room, in addition to a lab table with a large battery and workable engine components, had a large toolbox filled with gears and mechanical parts. It also had a music stand and a cabinet filled with sheet music. His violin had been tuned, polished, and placed on a stand,
Jasper’s room had a table with a spool of
copper wire, a battery as in Noah’s room, and some of the drawings he had left on the ship.
Lucy’s room was attached to Jasper’s by a door. Her room was filled with picture books, drawings, and fairytales.
While the children were settling themselves in their rooms, Miss Brett walked past Faye’s to the end of the hall, where the sixth door stood. She tried it, but it was locked. This was probably the door to the upper floors—stairs leading to the attic, most likely. She was glad it was locked, and she was determined it would remain so,
The children took some time to settle into their spaces. Lucy took some books from the library to keep in her room. After tea and sandwiches for lunch, the children and Miss Brett set off into the gardens, exploring the walled and terraced space attached to the house.
On the topmost terrace, there were many little bridges over clover patches and beds of flowers, most of which were finished blooming for the season. The second tier had little creeks and ponds and tiny waterfalls. Lucy was beside herself with pleasure as she ran through the tunnels and over the little footbridges. At one point, she climbed into the opening of a tunnel by the olive orchard. After several minutes of calling frantically, Jasper found her crawling out of a small opening up by the garden just below the house.
“It’s a secret!” cried Lucy, jumping up and down.
“Not anymore,” Noah said with a laugh.
“I wonder,” Jasper thought aloud. “I wonder where some of these tunnels lead.”
The third tier was the oddest. It was a maze garden, though the hedge was very low, and it was filled with statues of all manner of creatures. There were monkeys and elephants, bears and ravens, camels and coiled snakes. There were also unicorns and griffins and dragons. Each creature was perched atop a pedestal and seemed to gaze off in an odd direction, never looking at one another never looking at the same spot,
“Look at me!” cried Lucy. “I’m trying to hide from the creatures, but someone is always watching!” And this was true. The others walked around the garden and found that, wherever you stood, there was at least one creature staring directly at you. It was a bit eerie.
The Ravens of Solemano or The Order of the Mysterious Men in Black Page 17
