'But he talked about a lot of other things too,' Luciano hurried on. 'The magic laws for one thing. He doesn't agree with them.'

'Interesting,' said Dethridge. 'In especial for thatte his cozin introduced them. But yonge Ludovic and I have bene talking about them too. I read the cardes in a spread of thirteen.'

'For me?' asked Luciano, who knew it wasn't the usual day in the month when his foster-father and Rodolfo did their divinations. He had been getting into the habit of doing them too but it was always at New Moon and that had been a few days ago; Luciano had forgotten all about it this October.

'Aye,' said Dethridge. 'Just to ensure thatte ye were saufe.'

'And was I?' asked Luciano.

'Ludovic thynkes not,' said Dethridge.

'There was the Death card,' said Ludo. 'And yours. And many other things I could not understand. I am not an expert like Dottore Crinamorte but I am afraid for you.'

Chapter 14.

Two Nights Jan Wood and Vicky Mulholland took turns sitting with Celia Jones at her son's bedside. The three women had been friends since their children were at primary school and they had been part of the same babysitting circle. It was particularly hard for Vicky to be back in ICU, even though it was three years now since Lucien had died there.

She firmly pushed the memory down; Jago was not going to die. It was nothing like the situation with Lucien. Jago hadn't got cancer. But no one knew what was wrong with him and that was what was so devastating for Celia. When Vicky arrived to be with her that night, Matt's mother was doing her best to comfort their friend.

'At least he's no worse,' Jan was saying. 'The doctors think he's stabilised. And the longer he's stable, the more tests they have time for.'

Celia looked ten years older than she had twenty-four hours ago. Vicky recognised the signs.

'Jan's right,' she said. 'You must stay positive.'

Jan fetched them both some coffee from the machine before heading for home. To her surprise, Ayesha was there. Jan hadn't known what was going on between Matt and his girlfriend but she did know that Ayesha hadn't been around much lately and she had seemed terribly concerned about Jago, more than just a friend would be.

Now she was in the kitchen helping Harry cook dinner. He was chattering on blithely about school orchestra, oblivious of the tension between Ayesha and Matt, which it took Jan only seconds to pick up.

Not for the first time, Jan wished her husband had a more ordinary job, one that meant he could eat dinner with his family; it was extraordinary how often quarrels broke out over a meal.

'Hi, Ayesha. Are you eating with us?' she said brightly. 'How's the food coming, Harry?'

'Fine, Mum,' said Harry. 'It's only heating up really. Yesh did the beans. And I put an extra potato in the oven because I thought she might stay.'

He beamed round at them. Thank G.o.d Harry hasn't started on girlfriends yet, thought Jan.

'Would you lay the table, Matt?' she said. 'We'll eat in the dining room.'

'I'll give him a hand,' said Ayesha.

Jan hoped they would sort out whatever it was soon.

That peasant boy is back, thought Enrico, who had taken to hanging round outside Luciano's lodgings. It hadn't taken him long to find out where the Bellezzan lived; his skills of detection had returned with his better fortune. Enrico knew the young Bellezzan didn't trust him any more than did the stable-boy from Remora did. But Enrico was fascinated by Luciano. The very fact that the Bellezzan hadn't hauled him off to the authorities counted in his favour. Yet Enrico had been part of a plot to kill him. Luciano must know by now that the foils had been tampered with at the duel. And that no one but Enrico could have smeared the poison on the Duke's blade. But the Bellezzan had given him food, clothes and some money and Enrico now owed him a debt.

The peasant boy wasn't alone this time; he was accompanied by an armed ruffian, no better dressed than himself, who was clearly keeping an eye out for the younger boy.

Funny, thought Enrico. How often did a peasant travel with an armed guard? The door of Luciano's house opened and the two were let in. At the same time a tall young man with red-brown hair and a black cloak slipped out. Enrico was torn for a moment but decided to follow the rusty-headed stranger.

Inside the house Luciano and Arianna were blissfully unaware of their new grubby guardian angel. Dethridge, who had been kept informed by Rodolfo, was not deceived by the masculine disguise and tactfully withdrew.

'Who was that leaving?' asked Arianna, when they had finally pulled apart, a little breathlessly. 'I thought he looked familiar.'

'Only because he's Manoush,' said Luciano. 'He's a new one Ludo and he brought me a message from Aurelio.'

'What message?'

'Oh, you know, the usual sort of thing just to be careful of the di Chimici and beware of danger. But he's in worse danger than I am. You've heard about the new anti-magic laws being brought in here too?'

'Yes,' said Arianna. 'Antonio sent word.'

Looking at her in her coa.r.s.e canvas breeches and homespun shirt, Luciano found it hard to remember that she was the elected ruler of Bellezza, who would have to be kept informed about Padavian laws, as the city was her near neighbour and ally.

'It would affect all the Manoush, wouldn't it?' she continued. 'All this clamping down on G.o.ddess-worship.' The fingers of her right hand began to curl but she unclenched them. The d.u.c.h.essa had learned not to make the hand of fortune sign, common among the people of the lagoon.

'The whole reason they are here is to worship the G.o.ddess,' said Luciano. He went over to the window, whose shutters were open to the October night. 'It's half-moon tonight. In five days' time they begin to celebrate their Day of the Dead. However quietly they set about it, they'll be open to prosecution under the new laws.'

'What was Ludo doing here?' asked Arianna.

'I think he was trying to keep the Dottore company,' said Luciano. 'I've only just got back from dining with Filippo di Chimici.'

Arianna's eyebrows flew up under her fisherman's cap.

'It's OK,' said Luciano. 'I'm sure he's one of the good ones.'

'So you'll do it?' insisted Ayesha, as she and Matt clattered about his dining room with plates and cutlery.

'I said I would, didn't I?' he said. 'You can stay and watch me if you want.'

'All right,' said Ayesha. 'I will.'

Matt was surprised; he hadn't expected her to agree. Ever since the scene at Georgia's, when he had been forced to tell her about putting the evil eye on Jago, Matt had felt afraid of Ayesha. She hadn't screamed at him. In fact at first she had laughed and her contempt had been worse than her anger. She clearly hadn't thought him capable of doing something so powerful, even though she had made the connection between Jago's condition and Matt's new secret life.

But gradually he had realised that she hadn't underestimated him; if anything she had done the opposite. She had simply not believed that he could do anything so petty and mean.

They got through the meal somehow, with Harry chatting on cheerfully and Jan keeping a watchful eye on them. Then they pretended to watch a TV doc.u.mentary about global warming, which was enough to account for their sombre mood. Even Harry's enthusiasm had been dampened down. When the phone rang, Jan was relieved to leave the room.

It was Vicky, who had left the ICU briefly to call with an update on Jago.

'No change,' said Jan, when she came off the phone. 'Are you going back to the hospital tonight, Ayesha,' she asked awkwardly. 'Or . . . ?'

'I'd like to stay here, if that's OK?' said Ayesha politely.

So they're back on, thought Jan. They don't seem very happy about it. Perhaps they'll stay up all night having what we used to call a 'deep-and-meaningful'. She suddenly felt old and wished that Andy was here to talk to about it. But it was no good worrying; she had to be up early to fetch her aunt from the station.

Matt didn't know where he stood with Ayesha any more. He felt shy undressing in front of her and getting into bed but he couldn't turn up in Padavia in more than his underwear because his robes would have to fit over it. She lay on top of the covers fully clothed, watching everything he did.

'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-worshipper!

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 friendship.

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.