Cloaks of Vermin and Fish (The Misadventures of Italo and Vincenzo) by Aguirre Forrest

Author:Aguirre, Forrest [Aguirre, Forrest]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-03-14T20:00:00+00:00

They entered a circular room, the area of which seemed much larger than it looked from the outside. The décor was dainty, much softer than the twins expected from a mystic such as Nara Al Nazaretto. Fabric-covered, padded white chairs of delicate construction were embroidered with little flowers. A bird cage hung from a spindly stand. Inside the birdcage a pair of canaries sang a sweet song that was muffled by several small lime and pear trees that stood in porcelain pots on the perimeter of the room. A curio cabinet with a glass front held teacups, presumably to be used with the shiny metal teapot that sat atop a flat iron grill opposite the front doors. In the center of all this, a wrought iron spiral staircase wound up from the center of the room through the dark-timbered ceiling into another unseen floor above.

The girl invited them to sit on a pretty flowered love seat, which they reluctantly did.

“Tell me what has happened,” she said.

“I'm sorry to tell you,” Vincenzo said. “That Callisconni has passed away.”

The girl stammered, unable to speak for a moment. Tears welled up in her eyes before she gathered her emotions enough to be able to get the word out: “How?”

“We don't know, exactly,” Italo said.

“But we do know that she definitely is dead,” Vincenzo said. “There will be no reviving her. To answer your question, she was killed . . .” he thought about giving details, then felt it wise to refrain. “. . . by an unknown hand. Whoever it was didn't like fish.”

The girl did not ask any further questions about Callisconni. She gritted her teeth as if trying to chomp down the emotions she felt welling up inside her.

“And what are your dealings with her?”

“She owed us a favor,” Italo said, rubbing his hand.

“And she was good to her promise,” Vincenzo said. “She sent us here, where she said we would meet the sorcerer, Nara Al Nazaretto.”

“What is it you want of my master?” the girl asked. Her earlier emotion was gone. She was all business in both voice and demeanor.

“We just want to meet him,” Italo said. “We've heard he is a very powerful wizard.”

“You're not a very good liar,” she said. “Why are you really here? Don't try to lie to me again. My master does not take well to liars.”

“Truth be told, we don't know exactly why we're here,” Vincenzo said.

“I know,” Italo said gravely.

“What?” Vincenzo retorted.

“I know why we're here.” He turned to look at the girl. “Callisconni, she was something special. She was brazen, but kind, unassuming, but cunning. I thought my heart had been ripped out when I knew she had died, and this after having known her only a short time. I see now that fate has brought us to you, you who cannot fully hide your grief at her loss. You are the reason we're here. And you cannot lie anymore, either. I sense that you are hiding something from us, something about Callisconni and your relationship to her.

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