“What was that sigh for?” Brigette asked.
“What sigh?”
She snorted and gazed at the tall buildings lining both sides of the canal, keeping us covered in deep shade. Canal traffic was almost as thick as the foot traffic on the streets and bridges. I inhaled a deep breath and tried to enjoy the experience, refusing to let myself dwell on the uncertainty of what was coming next.
The canal flowed into a wider, brighter waterway, and we turned, following the current, picking up speed. Our pilot paddled hard, steering us past large barges weighed down with produce, live animals, bolts of fabric, and fish. A gleaming yacht trimmed in gold and ivory sailed past. Two young women in gauzy white dresses leaned against the deck railing, sipping wine from stemmed glasses as though they had nowhere else they needed to be.
“The previous Goddesses of the Seas kept their seat of power in Isolas,” I said. “I wonder if any of that bloodline remains.”
“The Marenato family.” Brigette’s upper lip curled. “They’re still quite alive and well, though they’re more merchant class than royalty these days. Much like Daeg and his family, they have a lot of influence and money, but I doubt their matriarch could raise a flood, even on her best day.”
“I’d be curious to meet them.”
She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “Like to rub your thunder in their face, perhaps?”
“Do you really think I would?”
She faced me fully, and her gaze roamed over me. Despite three days of travel in close quarters, we knew little about each other. Still, I’d hoped I had made a better impression on her than what she was suggesting. “No, I don’t think you’re the type, Evie. But I’m sure you could get a meeting with them if you were willing to reveal yourself. If there’s anyone in the city with connections to the Council of Magic, it would be the Marenatos.”
“More negotiating? More manipulations? More deal making?” I shuddered and stuck out my tongue. “I’d rather not.”
“I don’t blame you. But we might not have any other option.”
As much as I wanted her to be wrong, I suspected she wasn’t.
Our pilot made a series of quick maneuvers with her paddle, turning us into another narrow canal. Several yards ahead, a huge, elegant dock jutted into the waterway. Glittering gold flags, pots of trailing greenery, and tall bronze torches adorned the floating platform. We coasted to a stop and Brigette stood, waited for the boat to quit rocking, and stepped onto the dock. As I climbed out behind her, I spotted a wide staircase rising to a pair of arching, open doorways set in the side of a tall granite building. A pale-green patina tinted the stone, giving it the look of weathered copper.
“This is the Terrazzano?” I asked, trying not to gape at the ostentatious hotel.
Malita and Niffin’s boat pulled in next to ours, and several young men in dark-green uniforms dashed forward to unload our bags. Brigette waggled her eyebrows at me. She traipsed toward the hotel, leaving me to deal with the fare for our taxis.
My friends waited for me at the dock’s edge, and together we climbed the stairway and stepped into the hotel’s covered interior courtyard. Giant ferns and exotic flowers surrounded a gurgling fountain. Fans spun in the ceiling, stirring up cool air. Hotel staff bustled past us, toting luggage or carrying trays laden with food and drinks. Finely dressed guests lazed on wicker sofas. No one seemed to notice us hurrying to keep up with Brigette, who charged onward as though she’d been here dozens of times before.
We passed through another set of arching doorways into the Terrazzano’s lobby. Black and white tiles spanned the floors, and huge columns rose several stories high to support a domed ceiling painted like a night sky with gold constellations and a winking silver moon. Behind a long counter stood several uniformed attendants who were ready, presumably, to greet visitors and arrange their room accommodations.
“Buon pomeriggio,” said one of those attendants, a young woman in a short green jacket and loose cotton skirts. A green hat sat at a jaunty angle atop her upsweep of dark curls. “Come posso aiutarla?”
Lacking the ability to speak Vinitzian, I stood aside and let Brigette handle our business. Huffing, I caught Niffin’s violet gaze and rolled my eyes. “If she tries to buy the hotel or do anything completely ridiculous with our money, let me know, would you?”
His lips drew into a cynical grin. “She is bold, no?”
“She certainly makes up for whatever I’m lacking.”
Brigette concluded our business, and we followed a pair of porters up a grand staircase, down a long hallway, and through the double doors of a suite of stylish rooms. Trying to act as though I belonged in such an elegant space, I kept my nose upturned and mouth firmly shut as I tipped the porters. They left, closing the doors quietly behind us.
“Not so long ago,” I said as I scanned the suite’s plush furnishings, “I lived in a tenement apartment in the ghettos of Prigha, fighting off the rats who tried to steal our bread at night.”
Brigette crossed the suite’s living room and pushed open a pair of tall glass doors framed by long, filmy curtains. She stepped onto a balcony, and a breeze caught the draperies, making them flutter like flags. “Then you should really come enjoy this view.” She beckoned me to join her and removed Niffin’s cigarette tin from her skirt pocket. “No rats, I promise.”
Our balcony jutted over a carriageway, but across the street, a grassy bank rolled into a massive blue-green bay. The setting sun reflected on the glassy surface, setting the water ablaze. At the bay’s edge, a small, rocky island disrupted the flat horizon. A dark, hulking structure, a cross between a castle and a fort, hunkered atop the cliffs in the center of the islet. The sight of it chilled me. I pointed as I shot Brigette a hard look from the corner of my eye. “Let me guess...”
“La Basilica di Magia.” She snapped her fingers, and her cigarette lit itself, smoke streaming in a fragrant white cloud. “The Council of Magic’s sanctuary.”
“Looking at it isn’t making me feel any better.” In fact, my knees felt like melting butter, and my stomach churned as though I’d swallowed a pod of tiny sea monsters.
“Just thought you should know what you’re up against.”
It’s okay to be afraid, Grandfather said. These are the moments that will define you as both a woman and a queen. You’re facing your fear. What you’ll do with it is what matters most.
“I don’t even really know where to start,” I said, both to Brigette and to my grandfather.
“I know where you should start.” Brigette released a noxious puff of smoke that ascended in a perfectly shaped ring.
I gave her a skeptical look. “You do?”
“The Marenatos are hosting a Stagoni di Magia masquerade here, at this hotel, tomorrow night. And you’re going to attend.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “Tomorrow night? How convenient.”
“It’s a well-known fact the Marenatos host their party here every year. It’s tradition.”
“Is that what your compendiums and diaries told you?”
Her grin turned sheepish. “And I may have attended university with an apprentice of the Marenatos’ Magician.”
I crossed my arms and faced her fully. “Less than a week ago, I found you half-dead in the back of an apothecary in Steinerland, and now you’re here with me despite your initial objections, and you just so happen to be an expert on all things Isolas, Marenato, and Stagoni di Magia? That’s too much of a coincidence, Brigette. I feel like I’ve been manipulated into this situation, but this is beyond even Hannah’s ability to coordinate.”
“Not Hannah.” She inhaled from her cigarette. “But perhaps the old gods.”
