Georgia could see she wasn't going to get away from the Ram again that night. Even more than yesterday, she was the star of the show. Twelvers of both s.e.xes kept coming up to congratulate and kiss her; some of the young female Rams, who really were remarkably pretty, looked as if they would like to stay and get to know the winning jockey better, but Paolo and Cesare protected Georgia from them.

What on earth were Maura and Ralph going to think if she didn't get back that night? Her note had said that she was going to spend all day with Falco and the night too at the Mulhollands'. That had taken care of last night and today in Remora. But the sky was dark here now, which meant that it was day in the other world and, since it would be a Sat.u.r.day, everyone would be home and wondering where Georgia had got to.

It was only a matter of time before Maura rang Vicky and then she would discover that the Mulhollands had no idea where she was. The fact that she actually was at their house was no help. If they found her in Falco's room in her apparently comatose state, they would rush her off to hospital like Luciano a year ago. And she dreaded to think what that would do to Vicky and David.

But after a few goblets of wine, Georgia decided she was just not going to worry about it; Falco would have to cover up for her somehow. And she was not going to miss a second of her night of celebration. She couldn't have forced herself to sleep even if she had been able to sneak away from the party.

Gaetano sat beside his uncle at dinner. For once he was not next to Arianna, although she filled his thoughts. The d.u.c.h.essa was on the Pope's other side, next to her father. Fabrizio and Carlo were next to them, arguing under their breath about who should make the speech after the banquet Fabrizio as son and heir to the Dukedom of Giglia, or Carlo as next Prince of Remora.

Beatrice came and sat opposite Gaetano.

'How is everything at the hospital?' he asked anxiously.

She shook her head in answer.

'You haven't left Father on his own, have you?' he asked.

'No,' she said wearily. 'Francesca has relieved me there. She said I needed a break.'

The Pope caught the name. 'Ah, Francesca,' he said. 'She's a good girl, isn't she? Always so concerned for the family. I'm glad I granted her that annulment. She deserves a better fate than an impotent old husband.'

Gaetano choked on his pheasant. Francesca was free to re-marry! And within hours he must ask Arianna to be his wife.

Back in London, Falco was on tenterhooks. He was missing Talia and his father and Gaetano so badly and it was agonising not to know what was happening to Georgia in the Stellata. And he had to cover up for her too. She was still sleeping in his room and he wanted to be with her all the time, in case she suddenly returned to her body, as she had last night. But Vicky would have been alerted to something strange going on if he stayed closeted in his room. Every time the phone rang he hurried to be first to answer it but his leg made him slow and Vicky sometimes beat him to it.

Another thing was bothering him. He had stravagated twelve days ago and was still without a shadow. That meant he was still alive in Remora and as long as he was, there would be a temptation to ask Georgia for her ring and see if he could return to his Talian body. He didn't know if she had destroyed the talisman or not. Falco longed for it to be over so that he could concentrate on his new life and on getting better.

The phone rang. Vicky was only yards from it.

'Georgia? No, she's not here, I'm afraid. Last night? No, she wasn't here last night. Wait a minute I'll ask Nicholas.'

'Yt was juste as mye readinge sayed it wolde bee,' a rather inebriated Doctor Dethridge was trying to explain to Georgia. 'Al the numbire cardes were twos the numbire a.s.signed to ye in the race. Aye, ye were there Princesse of the Birdes.'

'Princess of Birds?' asked Georgia, puzzled.

'Yonge mayde,' said Dethridge patiently. 'Princesse. And of birdes by cause thatte this place is of the aire home to the flying horse and Citie of the Starres.'

'OK, if you say so,' said Georgia. 'What else did your cards tell you?'

'That the Dutchesse Arianne is Princesse of Fishes was wel protected by Lucian when shee came to the celebratioune of the Moving Starres.'

'I don't see what he did to protect her,' said Georgia.

'And that the Knyghte yonge Caesar was to be shutte up in a towre,' Dethridge continued unconcerned. 'And on the other side of ye the Prince of Serpentes thatte is one of the yonge lordes of the Ladye, but whether it bee poore Falcon or Prince Cayton, I doe notte knowe.'

'How do you work that one out?' asked Georgia, uncomfortable at the thought that the Elizabethan had already predicted her intervention in Falco's life.

'The Ladye is an Erthe sygne,' said Dethridge. 'Juste as the Ram bilonges to Fyre and the Twins to Aire,' as if that explained it all.

Perhaps you should do another reading, thought Georgia. She had no idea how the tangle of herself and Luciano, Arianna and Gaetano and even Falco and Cesare, might be unravelled and made to lie smooth.

A fanfare of silver trumpets announced the arrival of a visitor. Unlike the night before, the d.u.c.h.essa of Bellezza could now travel openly to visit and congratulate her city's Twelfth. Arianna swept into the Ram holding her head high. She wore a scarlet cloak over a yellow silk dress and a mask made of red and yellow feathers. Followed by Rodolfo and Gaetano, she walked the length of the steep Via di Montone to a standing ovation and made her way to the high table.

Paolo fetched chairs for the new visitors but Arianna did not sit down until she had been to stroke the horses. It was traditional for the winning horse to be guest of honour at the victory banquet, but the Ram had gone further and Merla was there alongside Arcangelo. And where Merla was, Starlight had to be too. The three horses had their own hastily fenced off s.p.a.ce in front of the church, with the silk Stellata lashed to a tall pole behind it, and throughout the evening Twelvers and visitors went to marvel at the 'Sorte di Montone', luck of the Ram.

The d.u.c.h.essa patted Arcangelo a bit nervously and stroked Starlight's nose. But she stood for a long time admiring Merla.

'I would not have believed it,' she said to Gaetano. 'Until a week or so ago horses were something I had seen only in paintings and engravings. And now here is a creature of myth, such as are found only on fragments of ancient pottery or in old mosaics.'

'And here it is in reality,' said Gaetano. 'This too my family stole from the Ram as well as their jockey.'

Arianna placed her hand affectionately on his arm a gesture not lost on several guests at the top table.

'I have never held you accountable for the deeds of your family,' she said.

'You have others to congratulate besides the horses,' said Rodolfo, leading her back to the feast.

'Indeed,' said Arianna, suddenly vivacious again. She came over to Georgia and held both her hands. Projecting her clear musical voice across the square she said firmly, 'I congratulate the Ram and its fine jockey, Giorgio Gredi,' not stumbling over the name. 'You have upheld the honour of my city tonight and Bellezza thanks you. As a small token of my grat.i.tude I give Giorgio a bag of silver and this kiss.'

Startled, Georgia felt her lips brushed by the d.u.c.h.essa's and saw the violet eyes fixed briefly on her before Arianna handed her a velvet bag heavy with coins. She stammered her thanks as the Rams all hollered with appreciation, banging the tables and stamping their feet. This was their idea of good entertainment.

Georgia sat down confused as the d.u.c.h.essa calmly accepted a goblet of wine poured for her by Paolo. Arianna must know she couldn't take the silver back when she stravagated home. She decided to give it to Cesare, just as soon as he could stop eating; he was making up for lost time.

Luciano was eaten up with jealousy. Arianna had not given him one glance or smile and yet he felt that everything she did was directed at him. And what she was doing now was flirting with Gaetano. And yet what had Luciano done to make her angry with him? He remembered Georgia's kiss but surely that had meant nothing? She had kissed Cesare too and half the population of the Ram; it was what Remorans did after a great victory. In fact Luciano himself had received a number of embraces from girls of the Twelfth whom he had never seen before.

There was an air of recklessness and abandon in the Twelfth of the Ram that night. The Stellata had been wrested from the di Chimici and returned to the Ram after a quarter of a century. Who knew when they might win it again? Many babies were born in the Twelfth the following May as a result of the licence of that night of celebrations and many of the boys were called Giorgio or Cesare, the girls Stella or Merla.

Gaetano was not immune to the atmosphere or to the attention Arianna was giving him. He drank more wine than he should have done to give himself courage for what he had to do. He had almost talked himself into it, thinking tonight, as he had often thought before, that it would be no hardship to be husband to the beautiful ruler of Bellezza.

His musings were interrupted by a sudden shout.

'Look!' cried Cesare. 'The Manoush have come!'

Aurelio and Raffaella had entered the square quietly and were standing talking to Merla; she appeared to listen to them and understand. Slowly the square filled with other colourfully dressed members of their tribe and, when Paolo went to speak to them and offer the Ram's hospitality, they set up their instruments and gave an impromptu concert. The Ram's drummer joined in, soon picking up the intricate rhythms and even the heralds tried to play along on their trumpets.

Most Twelvers were so pleasantly befuddled with wine, lack of sleep and happiness that they were not about to judge the music harshly. But after a pause, Aurelio played something on his own. It was sweet and sad and it made Gaetano think of his brother and then of his cousin, the girl he must soon give up for ever.

'It is an air to break your heart, is it not, Principe?' said a woman he had not noticed before. Now he saw that she was very handsome, dressed in the colours of the Ram. For a moment, she reminded him of the d.u.c.h.essa, but then he realised that she was much older. Still, she had a look of Arianna; perhaps she was a visiting aunt? He seemed to remember that an aunt of the d.u.c.h.essa's was married to Doctor Dethridge.

'It is very moving, ma'am,' he said politely.

'It seems to tell of love lost and duty triumphant,' she continued. 'Of wrong choices made and a life of sacrifice, lived with the consequences of those choices.'

Gaetano was seriously startled; was this woman a clairvoyant, or perhaps another Stravagante?

'You can read so much into a simple air?' he asked.

'There is nothing simple about the music of the Manoush,' she said.

He turned to look at the harpist and when the melody ended and he looked back, the woman had gone. There was a pause, while the notes of the lament faded into the night. And then another, merrier tune began and the tables were pushed back for dancing.

Gaetano danced with Arianna and saw out of the corner of his eye that her father was dancing with the mysterious woman.

'Who is that with the Regent?' he asked her. 'She has just said some extraordinary things to me. I think she is some kind of enchantress.'

Arianna laughed. 'You are not the first to say that,' she said. But she didn't answer his question.

Luciano and Cesare were in a dilemma. They both wanted to dance with Georgia, but as far as the Rams were concerned, their jockey was a boy. Remorans were indiscriminately affectionate and no one thought it odd for young men to embrace or even kiss one another, particularly during a great feast. But they did not dance as couples.

The three friends found themselves all caught up with pretty and willing female Twelvers. Arianna looked daggers at Luciano, whose current partner was a lively black-haired girl, and Georgia cast desperate glances at Paolo. But he was dancing happily with Teresa.

It was William Dethridge who rescued her. When the music changed he got all the young men, including Georgia, to dance in a circle, while the women clapped and beat time. Georgia found herself just where she wanted to be, between Luciano and Cesare, with everyone singing the hymn of the Twelfth l.u.s.tily at the tops of their voices.

Gaetano was on Luciano's other side and both young men wished that the dancing would go on for ever and the next day never come. They both knew that by the morning something would be resolved about their future. But for now all they wanted to do was dance and drink and sing.

Enrico was the only person in Remora, apart from loyal Rams, who had made any money on the race. He still had a healthy proportion of the silver that the Duke and the Pope had given him to lay out on pacts with other Twelfths, and the betting had brought him more. Now he was wondering whether to leave the city. He wasn't at all sure where he would go; he liked Remora and being around horses but he didn't think it would be wise to stay on. He had committed horse-theft, kidnapping and imprisonment and, once this was known in the Ram, he would be in danger.

And it had all been for nothing; the di Chimici had lost the race and Bellezza's stock was higher than ever. News of the victory would soon spread throughout Talia, encouraging other cities to resist alliances and usurpations. The Duke was crazy with grief now but one day he would come to his senses and then he might remember that his spy had failed him.

On the other hand, the Duke was the most important person Enrico had ever worked for and he was loath to give him up; perhaps he could persuade his employer that he could be useful to him in some other way?

For now, he had to face the Rams, because he owed them money. Enrico was a scoundrel, but he was also deeply superst.i.tious; he had stolen their luck but he would not try to rob them of their winnings.

The party in the Ram began to break up as the Manoush gathered to salute the dawn in their usual way. Georgia sat on the steps outside the church, yawning, suddenly dog-tired. She saw Rodolfo and Gaetano escorting Arianna from the square. They stopped by the fountain and Rodolfo turned back to talk to Silvia. Georgia watched the young couple leave together and saw Luciano looking after them with an expression of sheer despair.

Paolo came over to Georgia. 'You look exhausted,' he said. 'Do you want to come back to the stables?'

All over the square, overturned chairs and tattered flags lay among spilt wine and fragments of food. Dogs scavenged among the leftovers and men with long-handled snuffers extinguished the last of the torches. Suddenly a scuffle broke out and Georgia saw that Cesare was hanging on to a man in a blue cloak. She and Paolo and a few other young Rams rushed over to help him.

'This is the man who kidnapped me!' said Cesare. 'And he probably stole Merla too, yet he dares to set foot in the Ram!'

Enrico looked scared but he stood his ground. 'Only acting on orders,' he said. 'Don't tell me worse things haven't happened in the Stellata before. And I've come to pay the Twelvers who bet on the Ram.'

A few of the young men who were holding on to him relaxed their grip. This was the first time they had thought about their winnings but now it seemed like a good idea. But they weren't going to let Enrico get off lightly. They turned out all his pockets and emptied his bag. The spy took it all without protest; his main stash of silver was safe up at Santa Fina. Cesare was disgusted at all the different coloured scarves in Enrico's bag and confiscated the whole thing.

So in the end, Enrico left the square unscathed.

'It's a beautiful night,' said Gaetano, guiding the d.u.c.h.essa back to the Papal palace through the narrow streets.

'Morning, you mean,' said Arianna, picking her way over the cobbles in her red silk slippers.

All of a sudden, he decided he had to get it over with.

'Your Grace,' he said, stopping her underneath one of the smoking torches. 'Arianna, this might not be the right time or place, but you will be going back to Bellezza soon and I can't wait any longer. We have spent nearly a month together and we know each other quite well now. I want to know what you think of our offer. Will you marry me?'

'There,' said Arianna. 'That wasn't so hard, was it? Not elegant, not romantic, but it did the job.'

Georgia made her way back to the stables hanging on to Cesare and Paolo. The Montalbani didn't think it right that their triumphant jockey should sleep in the hayloft, but that was what Georgia wanted. Cesare hung Enrico's bag of neckcloths on a post in the stables and gave her a final hug before stumbling into the house to sleep. Paolo embraced her too.

'Thank you,' he said. 'You have the courage of a warrior. You will prevail over your stepbrother.'

And then he was gone. Luciano and Dethridge had disappeared off somewhere together and Georgia had no idea where Rodolfo and Silvia were sleeping, except that it was probably in the same place. She lay down in the straw, hearing Arcangelo and Merla and Starlight and the other horses of the Ram moving beneath her. Even Dondola was back, ridden down to Remora by Roderigo, who had collected her from the Casa di Chimici and ridden her down in time to join in the Ram's celebrations.

Georgia's mind was a kaleidoscope of swirling colours and shapes the procession, the flags, the horses, the noises, the sight of Merla hovering above the Campo, the bright ribbons of the Manoush, the kisses, the music, the wine, the . . .

Gaetano burst into the hospital. The Duke had fallen into a deep sleep in his chair by Falco's bed, but Francesca was still awake. The room smelled of burnt-out candles. Gaetano paused to see that Falco's chest still rose and fell, even though very lightly. Then he took Francesca's hands in his and led her from the room.

Out in the corridor where the morning light streamed on to the pictures painted on the walls of patients being bled or leeched or springing up miraculously cured, he fell on his knees on the cold tiles and asked her to marry him.

And Francesca said yes.

Georgia woke to find herself in Falco's room with the door closed but not bolted. There was no sign of him but there was a sc.r.a.p of paper on the pillow beside her, containing the single word: 'Discovered!' It was evening and the house seemed deserted. She peeled herself off the floor and went downstairs and let herself out. She had to go home and face the music. She was consoled by the thought that, whatever she had to go through now, it had been worth it.

Chapter 24.

Nets of Gold When Georgia entered the living room of her own house, it took her a few seconds to adjust. She was deadly tired and the people she had just left behind in the Ram were more real to her than her own family. She focused on Falco, who was in some ways the most familiar person there.

While the others all stared at her, she mouthed at him, 'I won!' and had time to register his surprise and delight before the storm broke. Maura and Ralph were there and Russell and the Mulhollands and a man and a woman who Georgia gradually realised were police officers. These last two didn't stay; as far as they were concerned, a missing person inquiry had just ended happily and they had crimes to investigate.

As soon as they left, Ralph went to the kitchen to make coffee, dragging a protesting Russell with him. He wanted to stay and see the fireworks but his father was firm.

The row raged on for what seemed like hours. The same questions were asked over and over again: Where had Georgia been? Who had she been with? What had she been doing? What did Nicholas know about it?

But they made no headway. What could she say? That she had been riding a horse race in another world and had won and feasted and danced the night away, kissed by n.o.bles and commoners? That she had seen a winged horse? That she had foiled a political coup? That she had been with the Mulhollands' son? That 'Nicholas' was an aristocrat, hundreds of years old, from another dimension? That she was a hero called Giorgio?

Whatever Maura and Ralph had thought before, they would have been sure she was on drugs now if she had given any of these answers. She clung doggedly to a few simple ideas.

'I can't tell you. It was nothing wrong. I was keeping a promise. Nicholas knows nothing.' (For this last she had to keep her fingers crossed but it was Falco who knew where she had been, not Nicholas.) 'I bet that old perve in the junk shop knows something about it,' said Russell helpfully, and the inquisition intensified.