The look in Mada's eyes frightened Cass. "I'm not sure," she lied. "From one of the merchants in Piazza San Marco, I think. Why?"

The older women sitting on the bench in front of them both turned around. One scowled. The other raised a finger to her lips. Mada grabbed Cass's arm and pulled her up from the pew. Quietly, the two girls made their way to the wooden double doors and slipped outside.

A soft drizzle was still falling, but Madalena pulled Cass away from the shelter of the brick church, across the campo. She didn't stop until she reached the edge of the canal, as though what she had to say couldn't be discussed too close to the church itself. Behind them, Siena and Eva had also slipped out of the church and now huddled beneath the stone overhang. Decorum dictated that they use umbrellas to help Cass and Madalena stay dry, but apparently both of the maids could tell that the girls were having a private conversation.

"What's going on?" Cass asked, flipping up the hood of her cloak. "What in the world are we doing out here?"

Mada wrapped her own cloak tightly around her. She pinched her lips into a hard line. "That's not your necklace. It's Liviana's."

"What?" Cass was too stunned to say anything else.

Madalena touched the purple stones around Cass's neck again. "She had a set of three just like this. One ruby, one emerald, one amethyst. She was wearing this necklace when she was entombed. I'm sure of it."

Cass thought back to the funeral. She seemed to recall a loop of stones around Livi's neck, but it was probably just a coincidence. Because the only way that Falco could have gotten the necklace from Liviana's body was if he had been inside her tomb before her body disappeared. And that was impossible because that would mean...

"You must be mistaken." Cass tried to keep the tremor from her voice.

Mada looked up at the sky and quickly made the sign of the cross over her chest. "I'm not mistaken. I never forget jewelry. Besides, I have the emerald one."

Cass had never seen her friend wearing a necklace like the one Falco gave her, but she always thought Madalena owned more jewelry than she could possibly ever wear. She grasped for an explanation. "If you bought the same one, then they can't be that rare."

Madalena was still staring at her as though she were diseased. "No. I have Livi's actual necklace. I always loved it and Liviana never wore it. So once when I was over visiting, I asked her if I could try it on, and then I kept it."

Cass's eyes widened. "You stole it?"

Mada glanced around the campo, but the square was empty. "Keep your voice down." She stared at the stones around Cass's neck. "You really don't remember where you got it?" Mada asked.

Cass managed to shake her head.

Mada shivered. "It's another bad omen. I feel like something terrible is going to happen."

A gust of wind sent a ribbon of cold all the way up Cass's spine. "You're not the one wearing it," she said, struggling to sound as if she were joking. "Maybe it's a bad omen for me."

The thought seemed to cheer up her friend. "Maybe," Madalena said. She raised her eyebrows. "Maybe you aren't meant to marry Luca after all."

Her words lingered awkwardly in the air for a moment, before Cass cleared her throat. Tucking the necklace back between layers of fabric, she turned away from the canal. "Tell me more about this body they found. You said she was a servant?"

Madalena seemed relieved when Cass had tucked the necklace out of sight. She nodded. "Marco heard she worked for Joseph Dubois."

So it was Sophia, the maid Siena had told them about. "Don't you think it's odd," Cass said suddenly, "that both dead girls were connected with Dubois?"

Madalena gave her a funny look. "What do you mean, both dead girls? Has there been another murder I don't know about?"

Mannaggia. Cass had completely forgotten that Mada didn't know anything about Mariabella. She tried to come up with a plausible explanation. "Siena was gossiping about a murdered courtesan," Cass finished weakly.

Luckily, Mada seemed too distracted by bad omens to realize Cass wasn't being completely truthful. The older girl's eyes followed the movement of a lean black cat as it slunk along the front wall of the church. "I haven't heard anything about that," she said. "You know how servants are. Always making up stories." She waved her hand dismissively. "But Dubois is a good friend of my father's. He may be a pig at times, but I'm sure he's not involved in anything sinister."

Cass wasn't so convinced. The fact that he was linked to both dead girls had to be more than coincidence. And then there was his friendly physician, Angelo, connoisseur of corpses. Come to think of it, the whole masked ball had given her a bad feeling. Cass shivered as she remembered the stranger in the falcon mask. She couldn't tell any of this to Madalena, though. Mada would be dumbfounded just to find out that Cass had been at the ball and hadn't told her. Cass glanced back toward the giant brick church. "Do you think we should go back?"

Madalena shook her head. "Let's head home. I think we've created enough of a disturbance for one day. One missed communion won't kill us, right?" She signaled to Eva and Siena, who were still huddled just outside the church's doors.

Cass and Mada left the campo of the Frari and headed toward the Rialto Bridge with their maidservants trailing behind. The great bridge connected the San Polo district with San Marco, where Madalena lived. As they made their way to Madalena's palazzo, the gray drizzle faded away to sprinkles and then to a foggy mist.

Mada pointed out the inked handbills posted on mooring posts and the sides of buildings. "Look," she said.

Cass stopped to read the inky handwriting on the official notice. Rain was starting to blur the letters, but she could make out the family seal in the bottom right-hand corner: a griffin holding a flaming sword.

REWARD: 50 ducats for specific and credible information regarding the death of Sophia Garzolo.

The note was signed by Joseph Dubois himself.

"No mention of a courtesan," Madalena said. "Probably just a rumor. Besides, if Dubois is so good-hearted as to try to seek justice for a servant, I highly doubt he'd be involved in any scandal involving a courtesan." She said servant the same way she might have said insect.

Cass had to admit it was strange. Since when did wealthy noblemen offer rewards for missing maids?

The girls made it to the back entrance of Madalena's palazzo. Beyond the bronze gate, tarnished by years of exposure to the elements, Cass could see the courtyard garden and the stone table where she had sat with her friend to discuss wedding plans just a few days ago. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then. Mada rang the bell mounted at the side of the gate and a servant appeared to let them in.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Madalena asked.

"I better not. My aunt is expecting me straight home after Mass." Cass hoped Agnese didn't ask too many questions about the day's readings.

"We wouldn't want to upset dear Auntie. She might do something rash like delay your wedding," Madalena teased.

If only it were that easy...

Cass bid Mada good-bye and then walked along the Grand Canal with Siena, both girls trying to flag down a gondolier for passage back to San Domenico. Unfortunately, churches all around them had just let out and the gondoliers were busy with short fares. They decided to head down near the Piazza San Marco. The giant square was home to the Palazzo Ducale, and backed up to the lagoon. Plenty of boats usually congregated in the waters just south of the piazza. They might not be able to find a gondola, but Cass thought she should definitely be able to find some kind of watercraft willing to take them home.

The two girls approached the imposing U-shaped building that was home to the Doge of Venice as well as the seat of Venetian government. The Palazzo Ducale was as big as several blocks of private homes, with arched windows on all sides. The perimeter was ringed with a breezeway supported by Gothic columns and elaborate sculptures perched above the entrances. Bricks in various shades of brown and gold glittered in the daylight.

The piazza thrummed with activity. Citizens and nobles on the way home from Mass milled in all directions, stopping to buy a bite of fresh bread from the baker or to check out the latest bracelets and brooches the Gypsies had for sale. Water merchants touted the healing powers of their springwater while booksellers pushed carts filled with the latest printed volumes between the throngs of people.

As Cass headed across the square to the edge of the lagoon, she noticed a small crowd of people, a mix of peasants and nobles, clustered in front of the clock tower. They were all standing in a semicircle, their attention clearly fixated on something.

Cass, thankfully, was tall enough to see over most of the other women. Her eyes narrowed when a skinny man in black robes turned around. It was Maximus the conjurer. He pulled a large pink rose from beneath a square of brightly colored silk. He offered it to an old woman.

Cass tried to remember specific details about the man in the falcon mask. Could it have been the conjurer? She considered his height, his build, the crushed-velvet hat on his head. All of them seemed consistent with the masked stranger from the ball. The conjurer had seemed so sincere when they had spoken at the brothel-but he had clearly known Mariabella. If he had performed at Joseph Dubois's estate, he could easily have met Sophia as well. Another possible connection between the two dead girls. Cass wasn't sure what to make of it.

Cass ducked down behind the tall feathered hat of the man in front of her so that she could watch the conjurer without being detected. Siena waited patiently at her side.

Maximus spoke a magical incantation over an empty stone box, and a stream of doves poured out when he lifted the lid. The crowd cheered. Silver and bronze coins flew through the air and landed in and around a ceramic bowl at the conjurer's feet. Maximus bowed deeply and thanked the crowd. He closed his hands around one of the doves and then opened them with a flourish, producing a giant brown and black falcon in its place.

Cass froze. The bird's striped feathers were eerily reminiscent of the stranger's mask the night of Dubois's masquerade ball. Could it be just a coincidence? The falcon perched on the conjurer's hand, preening itself. It stretched out its wings, and for an instant Cass saw it like a skeleton instead of a bird, each wing made out of delicate bones not too different from the ones in her own hands.

Maximus noticed Cass in the crowd for the first time. Both conjurer and bird stared at her for a long moment.

"Come on." She stumbled back from the crowd, pulling Siena with her.

Cass and Siena continued across the piazza, passing the Basilica San Marco, the Doge's personal chapel. The building was made of fine marble and almost as big as the Palazzo Ducale, with five sets of arched doorways across the front and five shiny golden cupolas laid out in the shape of a cross. Frescoes depicting biblical scenes decorated the area above each arched threshold. Elaborate friezes and bas-reliefs ran along the terrace and roof. Every square inch of the place was gilded or sculpted or painted. Cass always imagined the great building was what the Garden of Eden would look like if it had been magically turned to stone.

A semicircle of six boys sat directly in front of the basilica, drawing its likeness on pieces of yellow parchment. Cass's heart skipped. She couldn't help but look for Falco. He wasn't there, but she recognized Paolo, Falco's roommate, among the group.

He'd been civil to her last night, but who knew how he might act without Falco around to defend her. "Wait here," Cass told Siena. Then she walked up to the boys and stopped just behind Paolo. "Excuse me," she said. All of the boys turned around. A couple of the younger ones giggled.

Paolo weighted his drawing down with a worn leather canteen. Probably full of alcohol, Cass thought. The tall boy hopped to his feet. "Come to talk more about de Montaigne?" he asked with a wink.

Cass looked away. From the corner of her eye she could see Siena staring at her. "I actually was hoping you might give Falco a message for me," she said. "I need him to meet me tonight, at midnight, at the churchyard by my aunt's property."

"Churchyard, eh? Sounds very...deserted." Paolo lifted his hat and shook his black hair out of his face. "I don't know. You kept him out late last night." The boy gave Cass a long look. "I'm surprised you made it to Mass this morning. But perhaps you had reason to repent?"

Cass blushed. "It isn't like that," she said. "I just need to talk to him."

A gust of wind blew Paolo's baggy white shirt back against his thin frame. Cass could see the contours of his body beneath the fabric. She realized she was seeing everything differently now. Nothing was whole anymore; every figure, every movement, was the sum of smaller pieces.

"I'll give him the message, but don't be upset if he can't make it," Paolo said. "And by the way-congratulations on your upcoming nuptials." A slow grin spread across his face as Cass froze in place. "Don't worry, Signorina. Falco doesn't mind." Then Paolo tipped his hat and went back to his easel in front of the basilica. The boy next to him poked him on the arm and said something under his breath that Cass couldn't make out.

Cass glanced back at the clock tower as she gestured for Siena. It was almost noon. Falco would meet her tonight. She was certain of it. In just twelve hours, she would make him give her the answers that she needed. In just twelve hours, things would begin to make sense again.

"Human beings, having originated in the Garden, require contact with nature. Even a palace grows unwholesome to one who is too long confined within its walls."

-THE BOOK OF THE ETERNAL ROSE

nineteen.

That night, Cass stood at the fence surrounding the graveyard, one hand pressed up against the cool metallic bars. She hadn't been inside it since the time she'd gone looking for Falco and caught him drawing the nude girl. Cass had never found the drawing. Siena had probably burned it to protect her. Cass remembered how upset and embarrassed she'd felt when she'd seen it, her obsession with who the girl was supposed to be. It all seemed insignificant now.

She looked up at the sky. The night was unusually clear, and a smattering of stars shone down on her. Cass wished she knew more about constellations. Certain stars grouped together bestowed luck, and Cass needed all the help she could get.

"Starling."

Cass whirled around. Falco. How had he managed to sneak up on her again? Dressed in all black, he was invisible except for his tanned face, barely lit up by the stars.

"You shouldn't have run off," he said seriously. She saw no hint of his usual grin. "I was worried. I tried to follow you; I wanted to make sure you got home safely. But I lost you in the alleyways."

"I-I was afraid," Cass said.

Falco moved closer to her and Cass did not pull back. "Afraid? Or angry?"

"Confused," Cass said. Falco's body was just inches away from her own.

Falco sighed. "I know what you must think of me," he said. He ran a hand through his hair. "If you can just give me two more days, I promise then I can explain everything."

Cass yanked the circle of amethyst stones from beneath the collar of her dress. "And can you explain this as well?" she asked. Her heart thrummed in her chest. "This belongs around the neck of my dead friend, whose body is conveniently missing."

"You must be mistaken." Falco looked away. "That's costume jewelry. It was in with the rest of Tommaso's junk. He probably bought it from a Gypsy."

"Mistaken. Of course." Her skin felt too tight, like she might burst at any moment. Of course he couldn't explain it. Once again, she had given him a chance to make things right, and once again, he had failed. Cass ripped the necklace from her throat, watching as the chain broke and the stones scattered on the wet ground. She gestured toward Liviana's tomb. "There's a dead girl in there who's not supposed to be, and another girl murdered, and you don't care. You don't care about them, or me." She turned and walked away from him, blinking back tears. "I refuse to be lied to any longer." What an idiot she was.

"Cassandra, wait." Falco ran after her, grabbing her arm just before she reached the edge of Agnese's garden. "I do care. Give me two days. That's all I need. And then I will tell you anything you want to know." He stared at her. "Please. I'm asking you to trust me."

"Why should I?" Cass asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The breeze rustled through the ivy. Cass watched one leaf whip back and forth. "Last night you told me not to trust you, and tonight you tell me I should. What's changed?"

"What's changed is that I..." Falco reached for her face, his fingertips caressing her cheekbones. "I'm falling in love with you," he said, brushing a strand of hair back from her eyes. "For the longest time I couldn't see it. I didn't want to see it. So impossible. But I can't deny my feelings any longer. You're more than a muse, Cass. I want you to be more. I want you to be mine."

"But you know-" Cass could barely stutter out a sentence; Falco's words were so unexpected, she could hardly breathe. "But I'm engaged..."

"Forget the engagement. Forget what you're supposed to do. What do you want to do, Cass? What do you need?"

Cass felt her resolve melting away. His fingertips were ten individual spots of heat on her cool skin. She was tired of being cold. All she had to do was lean in and let the warmth engulf her. She thought of their bodies pressed together in the old batela, her hands caressing his bare skin as their mouths met over and over.

She realized she was crying. Falco kissed away her tears one at a time. Each time his lips touched her skin, she felt a brightness, like he was making flowers bloom inside of her. "I want to believe you, but it's not that simple. I-"

"It is that simple." Falco tilted her face upward and pressed his mouth to hers, gently, then harder. Cass didn't even try to resist. The wind whipped his hair around, and hers, tickling her skin as Falco pressed her against the framework of the trellis that lined the back of her aunt's garden. Falco leaned into her and Cass could feel their hearts beating against each other. This was what a kiss should feel like. This was real.

When Cass broke away from the embrace, she was breathless. "All right," she said, exhaling hard into the darkness. "I'll give you your two days. But from then on I want everything explained. No more lies."

"Thirty-six hours," Falco said solemnly. "That's all I need."

Light flickered in the distance. Cass raised a hand to cut him off. "Did you see that?" She pointed to the graveyard. "It looked like a lantern."

Falco turned to look. "It may have been one of the servants lighting a candle?"

"No, look." Cass stared as the flickering light moved between the shadows. "I have to go. My aunt is already furious with me. No one can find me out of bed at this hour." With you.

Falco leaned in to give her one last kiss. "Meet me at the Pillars of Justice. Day after tomorrow, at noon. I promise I'll explain everything then."

"I'll be there." Cass fled from the gardens, to the servants' entrance that would take her safely into the kitchen. Her hands trembled as she fidgeted with the knob. The door was locked fast. Someone must have come along behind her and discovered the door unbolted.

Cass swore under her breath. Why did everything have to be as difficult as possible? She felt her way along the rough stone walls of the villa as she headed around to the front entrance. The lantern light still moved along the graveyard fence where she and Falco had met. Had someone been spying on them? Spies, secrets-they were everywhere now. Cass almost couldn't fathom the strange turns her life had taken over the past few days.

She didn't even make it back inside the villa before she realized something was terribly wrong. When she turned the corner onto the main lawn, she saw that the whole front of the house was ablaze with light. Through one of the arched windows, she could see into the portego. Nestled on the divan facing directly toward Cass was Aunt Agnese. She had never looked so furious.

Even the graveyard, with its possible vampires and murderers, seemed like a safer choice than going inside to face her aunt. But then Cass saw Agnese start up from the divan and totter over to the portego window, her gray hair peeping out from her white nightcap. The old woman pointed one swollen hand at the glass. Then she disappeared from view, as if she had collapsed.

Cass raced up the stairs and into the portego. Her aunt had fallen into a chair. She was hunched over, trembling slightly. Her cap had fallen to the floor, exposing the coarse gray braid that reached just past her shoulders. "Aunt Agnese," Cass said, kneeling down to retrieve the cap. "Are you all right?"

The commotion brought Narissa and the cook running from the kitchen. They were both wearing cloaks. Cook had a lantern, as if he had been preparing to go outside. Slipper trailed along behind Cook as if he thought the portly man might leak scraps of meat from his pockets. Cass stared at them. What on earth was the whole house doing awake?

"Cassandra," Agnese rasped, one hand clutched over her heart. She seemed on the verge of tears. "Where have you been?" Sliding her nightcap back onto her head, she shooed away a hovering Narissa.

Cass was frightened by Agnese's outburst. Agnese was always very stern, but in a sarcastic sort of way. It was not like her to raise her voice. It was even less like her to cry.