With every police officer in Venice trying to solve the Mayor’s murder, a little bloodletting at the Biblioteca would be the last thing they wanted to focus on, particularly if the supposed victim denied it had ever happened.
You could do almost anything in Venice this week and they’d barely notice, she thought as she crossed back over the crumbling stone bridge. Halfway across, she faltered, glancing back at the police station and wondering just how true that might be, and how much the theory would be tested.
She needed to talk to Tonio and find out what she could about the tomb in Dorsoduro, never mind doing as Nico had asked and making sure they both had a life to return to when this was all over. And maybe whatever she learned about the building collapse would be moot. A part of her—a willingly naïve part—hoped that it would all be over by the time she and Nico reconnected, that Volpe would have found the other two Doges and … killed them, don’t hide from it … before they were reunited.
Geena just had to hold her life and their shared world together until then.
Are you sure this is a good idea? Nico thought, peering into his own mind, trying to get a sense of what Volpe had planned. All the old magician had said was that they would be searching for Foscari and Aretino, the other two Doges he had banished from Venice.
There are other ways to search, but it would be foolish not to begin with a more direct approach, Volpe whispered in his mind.
“Direct approach?” Nico asked. “If they’re waiting for me, we might both be killed by your ‘direct approach.’”
Though for the moment he had control over his own body, he could feel Volpe smile inside.
Then you should make at least an attempt at stealth, don’t you think?
They had achieved a kind of fluidity in their sharing of Nico’s body, an intuitive flow of thought and control. Nico gave Volpe the cooperation he desired so that the magician could rest—playing puppeteer with Nico’s body exhausted him—and in return, Volpe would keep him and Geena alive, and leave them be as soon as he had destroyed Aretino and Foscari.
Nico would have expected it to be difficult to cede command of his own flesh to an outside force, but found it simple enough to retreat within himself. It was an almost meditative state. He did not like the intrusion, the constant presence of Volpe there in his mind, observing his thoughts and actions, but he could endure it.
He paused in front of a small restaurant, raised voices coming from within. A cheer rose up and he wondered what had caused it, a rush of loneliness filling him. He and Domenic had often crowded into this bar with dozens of others to watch soccer games on the television hanging above the bar. Were they cheering a goal in there now, or some feat of alcoholic indulgence? The situation with Volpe and the Doges had to be dealt with, but in some ways he thought Geena’s mission the more vital. Without her, the life he had led before descending into the Chamber of Ten would be forever out of his reach.
Do not even think about her, Volpe said in his thoughts.
Nico clenched his fists in anger, but he had no one to hit. The magician was right. They did not know the extent of the Doges’ spellcraft, so for the moment it was better if he did not reach out to Geena with his thoughts. Still, it made him all the lonelier.
Stealth? he thought.
It might be wise.
All right, then.
Nico hesitated. His apartment was not far from here, two blocks up and through a narrow alley into a hidden garden courtyard that almost made up for the shabbiness of the musty old building. But that would be the approach that anyone else would take, so he backtracked past the restaurant—leaving the noise of the bar behind—and turned onto a street whose broken gutters slanted down just enough to let rainwater and whatever else flooded into them run the three blocks to the lagoon.
Past a small pharmacy, its green and white light burning though the place was dark, he hugged close to the buildings and watched every doorway and street corner for signs of hidden observers. A small trattoria had been defaced with an obscenity scrawled on the stone wall beside the glass door.
He darted into a side alley that ran for blocks behind the buildings. The stink of piss and garbage had seeped into the brick and cobblestones. Rats scurried behind a row of dented trash cans. Some damn fool had parked a motorcycle behind the service doors of a small apartment building, heavy chains around the tires and looped to a grate in the street.
Where are you going? Volpe wondered.
Nico ignored him. Why the stealth? he asked instead. Isn’t there a spell you can use to find them? If they can sense you—
Were I still alive I could have found them by touching the ground or a stone in any wall and thinking about them. But my bond with the city is frayed. For the moment, at least.
Are you sure they’re not just hiding, somehow? Nico asked. You’ve been dead for centuries while they’ve been out there together, learning more magic. They managed to pool the power they leached from Akylis enough to keep themselves alive this long. Is it really impossible they’ve found a way to make themselves invisible to you?
A ripple of unease went through Volpe. The old magician did not like the question.
I do not know the extent of their magic, Volpe replied. But that is why we have come here. They would have investigated the Chamber of Ten to discover what happened to disrupt the spell of Exclusion, to see if anything remained of me there. Caravello, or one of his lackeys, focused on Geena. Perhaps they sensed her connection to you, and thus to me. If they have traced my essence from the Chamber, they may have followed it here, or located you because of your work at the Biblioteca. They will want to make certain I am out of their way forever. And if they have a way to sense the location of the next Oracle, that might bring them here as well.
All right. I’m convinced it’s worth a shot, Nico thought. But do you really think I’m the next Oracle?
I don’t think it was only your mind-touch that led you to me. And with a magician as powerful as Caravello—imbued with the evil of Akylis … the blood of the Oracle is one of the only things that could have killed him.
How do you know that?
Nico felt Volpe hesitate a moment before forging on.
Do you think that I never felt the dark power lingering down in the well of Akylis? When I first sensed it down there beneath the city, I tapped into that magic.
What?
It did not corrupt me, but it would have if I had been anyone else. That’s why I could not allow other magicians to remain in Venice. The soul of the city is in me, Nico. You must understand that, especially if you are to be the Oracle yourself. And Venice is more powerful than Akylis. The soul of the city resists Akylis’ evil influence.
Nico frowned. So the blood of the Oracle does what? Disrupts the magic keeping them alive?
Precisely. The soul of the city is bonded to mine, and apparently to yours as well.
Geena’s blood was on the knife, too.
For long seconds, Volpe’s voice was silent inside Nico’s mind. He could feel the magician there, and knew Volpe was troubled, but not the source of that unease.
I’ve thought about that, he said at last. But there is another possibility. On rare occasions, a city might choose twins or lovers to share the weight of its secrets and its history.