Part 15 (2/2)

'Where's this talisman-thing, then?' she asked.

Matt brought the leather-bound book out from under his pillow. Ayesha took it in her hands and slowly unwound the brown leather strap from round it.

'How does it work?' she asked, impressed in spite of herself. 'You don't have to read it, do you?'

Matt winced. 'I can't,' he said. 'It's all in their version of Latin.'

'But you knew how to put that spell on Jago.'

'Professor Constantin told me about it.'

'What does he teach at this university of yours, then?' she asked. 'Black magic?'

'He didn't teach me about it I said he told me. And he didn't know I could do it. He warned me against trying, in fact. He's a teacher of Rhetoric that's like sort of argument and logic.'

'I know what it is,' said Ayesha. 'We learn about it in Law. Barristers still have to know the basics they haven't changed since Aristotle or someone.'

It was good to have her in his room again, on his bed, talking to him, even though she probably hated him now and was looking like s.h.i.+t. Is this what it is to love someone, Matt wondered. Not caring what they felt about you or how they looked? Just knowing them and wanting to be with them and wanting them to think well of you?

He wondered whether to tell her that the counter-spell for the Jettatura was in the book she held in her hands. If she had known Latin, she could probably have worked it out for herself and saved Jago without him. He couldn't remember enough about it himself something about olive oil and salt. It sounded more like a recipe than a spell.

He had warned her that there wouldn't be anything much to see when he stravagated but in the end she was so exhausted that she fell asleep before him. He longed to put his arms round her but restrained himself. She wasn't here for s.e.x or love; she was more like a UN inspector at a foreign election, wanting to see fair play.

If she had stayed awake, she would have heard his breath slowing but there would have been no other sign that the essence of him had slipped away to another world.

Enrico followed the rusty-headed man back to his lodgings, taking care not to be seen. Before they got there, the man met a group of friends and Enrico spotted bright colours and ribbons under their dark cloaks.

He nodded in the dark. Manoush. Funny how they always seemed to be around wherever the Bellezzan was. But then the group broke up again and the man continued on to the main square where the Palace of Justice stood. He dodged down a side road and Enrico followed him cautiously into an alley. The man unlocked a gate and disappeared.

Enrico walked back to the square counting houses and calculating which one's backyard now housed a Manoush.

Well, well, well, he said to himself, after checking twice. So Messer Antonio's house is giving shelter to a G.o.ddess-wors.h.i.+pper!

The spy filed this piece of information for future use; he didn't know yet what he could do with it but it was something to fall back on if the Bellezzan cast him off. For now he made his way back to the palazzo where the di Chimici was living. He had some serious infiltrating to do.

When Matt arrived in the Scriptorium, he felt as if he had been away for months. Several people asked him if he was feeling better and he nodded, not wanting to get drawn into difficult conversations; he had no idea what Constantin had told them and there was no sign of the Professor. Biagio soon had him knocking up ink b.a.l.l.s and Matt forgot that he had ever been anywhere else.

But he shared a secret with Biagio ever since their session in the hidden press room, and the foreman treated him a little differently: nothing that the other men and apprentices would notice but there was a sense of shared danger that brought a form of friends.h.i.+p.

Every time he pa.s.sed the new list of forbidden books that had to be posted up at the front of the Scriptorium, Matt read it and thought of how most of them were being printed on the secret press. And every time he felt the thrill of just being able to read the list. It was ironic that so many books were forbidden in the one place where he could have read them easily. But his work in Talia didn't give him much time to read anyway.

As the lunch break approached, Matt became anxious. He wanted to see Luciano and ask his advice but he needed to talk to Constantin too. He was going to have to confess what he had done and he wasn't looking forward to it.

The Refectory was full and it took him a while to see Luciano. He wasn't alone; a finely dressed, handsome young man, a bit older, was sitting drinking wine with him. Matt felt very aware of his shabby robes and inky hands.

'Ah, Bosco,' said Luciano with relief, as soon as he spotted him. But he didn't introduce him to his grand friend. 'Excuse me a moment, Filippo,' he said. 'I have an errand for this young man.'

And he took Matt out into the street.

'Sorry about that,' he said. 'I didn't want you to meet a di Chimici yet, even though I think Filippo is trustworthy. Where were you yesterday? Why didn't you come?'

He scrutinised Matt's face closely. 'Are you ill?'

'No,' said Matt. 'I . . . I've done something stupid. I really need to see the Professor.'

Luciano looked worried. 'I've got to go back to the di Chimici,' he said. He took some coins from a purse at his belt. 'Go to the Black Horse and get yourself some food. You'll find a boy there called Adamo. You can trust him I can't say more now. I'll make sure Constantin comes to the Scriptorium this afternoon.'

Matt walked to the inn, feeling stranger than he usually did in Padavia. He couldn't shake off the memory that the real him was lying on his bed next to Ayesha all the time he was here. No sooner had he called for food and drink than a slender young man dressed as a peasant joined him at his table. But Matt thought, from his voice and his hands, that he wasn't quite what he seemed at first glance.

'I'm Adamo. Matteo Bosco?' asked the boy.

'That's me,' said Matt. 'At least in Talia.'

'You shouldn't tell strangers you aren't from Talia,' said the boy.

'Luciano said I could trust you,' said Matt. He didn't feel like playing games. He was desperate to get his interview with Constantin over and to get back to his world with a cure for Jago.

A woman brought his food and ale over and Matt spotted a tall man hovering round their table.

'Friend of yours?' he asked Adamo.

The boy leaned over to him and said in a whisper, 'He's my servant. And he is trained to run a sword through you if you offer me any insolence, so I'd be careful if I were you.'

Matt paused, a bite of food halfway to his mouth. 'Who are you?' he whispered back.

Adamo looked round the crowded inn before answering.

'The d.u.c.h.essa of Bellezza,' she said quietly. 'Arianna Rossi. Luciano's future wife.'

The tall man was standing right behind her now and watching Matt intently. His right hand was under his cloak and he looked ready to move fast.

Matt continued to eat; at the moment it didn't feel safe to say anything. He had no idea why the d.u.c.h.essa of Bellezza was sitting at his table and he was very keen not to antagonise her bodyguard. When Matt had finished his food, they left the inn together and Arianna walked beside him back to the University, while the tall man followed them.

'Luciano asked me to look out for you,' said Arianna. 'He knew that Filippo di Chimici would be around at lunchtime. He has been worried about you.'

'Yeah, I've got some problems back home,' said Matt, not knowing where to begin.

'I am sorry for that,' said Arianna. 'I hope it is not because of the task you are doing here. It would not be the first time.'

'Not exactly,' said Matt. 'But I didn't want to face Professor Constantin yesterday.'

'He is your Stravagante in Padavia, I believe,' said Arianna sympathetically and Matt found himself wondering what she would look like dressed as a woman. He thought she would be strikingly beautiful. It reminded him again of what he had lost with Ayesha.

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