City of Magic by Avi

Author:Avi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.

I grabbed the remaining bread and followed her out of the room, across the empty campo, back through the entryway, and onto that ill-lit lane at the canal’s edge. “Where are the prisons?” I asked.

“Where I met you. Piazza San Marco.”

“My master never would have been able to walk that far.”

“Gondola,” she said.

“What’s a gondola?” I said, forgetting I had been told.

She spun around and faced me. “For someone who says he knows magic, you are not very smart. Gondolas are the way Venetians move about.” She resumed her walk, moving fast, not bothering to see if I was following.

I called out. “How do you know so much about these prisons?”

“I told you. I get work there.”

“Doing what?”

“Helping people.” She stopped. “Give me some more bread.”

I gave her some, but not wanting her to eat it all, I stuffed a piece into my own mouth first.

“What was that book?” I asked as we resumed walking. “The one on your table? Can you read?”

“My father taught me.”

I had never met a girl who read. Her account book, she had said, but I had no idea what kind of book that was.

It was a struggle to keep up with her, passing through lit-up spaces, then dark spots, trying to see how narrow the walkways were, how near to the canal edges I came. As far as I could tell, the city was made of shadows and water.

Upon reaching yet another canal bank, Bianca stopped. Though there was a lit lamp on a nearby wall, its burbling waters looked black.

Bianca put fingers into her mouth and blew a loud, piercing whistle. From somewhere in the darkness, an answering signal came. Within moments, a gondola, long, low, and black, glided into view. On the boat’s stern was a gondolier with a long oar in his hands.

Though the light was dim, I saw that his slim face was marked with age-etched wrinkles. His eyes were deep-set, under bushy gray eyebrows. He had a slight white stubble of a beard. But he was dressed like a young man, in a red jacket with gold tassels.

Bianca gestured to him. “This is Aswad, my father’s best friend. Mine too. And my godfather. He used to be a fisherman in Egypt but knows the waters in and around Venice better than anyone. Before my father went away, he made Aswad swear he would look after me until he came back. He does.”

“Are you going to become a gondolier?”

“They don’t allow women.”

“Bianca,” the gondolier called as his boat slid up to where we were standing. “What’s the matter? We haven’t talked in three days. I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’ve been at San Marco trying to rent my room. But we need to go there. Fast. Now.”

“Has something bad happened?”

Bianca motioned to me. “I rented my room to this boy’s master. But the Black Robes took him. Probably to the prisons.”

“What did he do?” Aswad asked Bianca.

“He says his master is a magician. And that he’s a magician, too.”

Though the light was poor, I saw Aswad’s eyes turn to me.

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