The Mosaic

Chapter 7

They were too slow.

The bodies just wouldn't part, pushed against Alessandro, bumped into him, shoved him around. It was frustrating, pointless – like swimming against the current, running over sand or walking through a swamp.

There! A flash of treacherous colors. Yellow and blue. The boy's uniform betrayed him.

Alessandro turned his head to alarm Giacinto, but the man just nodded. He had seen the servant, too.

Children were running around between their feet, merchants were yelling and booths of spices filled the air with an exotic heaviness. The strange vibe was hectic, unorderly, tickling all senses with its curiosities. The atmosphere buzzed with life and a myriad of sounds all blending together -- voices, a dog barking, a clatter of metal, a jingle of coins, a rustle of cloth. Alessandro felt the drum of his rushing blood play the rhythm to their chase.

From the corner of his eyes he saw Giacinto. The man was grinning slightly, lips curling pleased.

He is enjoying this, the officer realized.

"Eyes on the road," commented Giacinto. He sounded amused.

Alessandro snapped his head back, twisting aside in the last moment. He had almost barreled into a merchant. He ignored the man's angry yells behind him, catching up with Giacinto.

The servant raced off the market again -- couldn't lose them even in this chaos. He disappeared behind a booth, gone the next moment in another street.

That is definitely no servant, Alessandro thought. He wasn't only fast, there was strategy behind every turn, Alessandro realized. And they shouldn't follow him where he led them next.

The sound of life faded slowly behind them. The smell of spices and fresh bread vanished in the foul smell of wet moss and stale water. Even the sunlight was expelled by houses flanking the streets, so close and narrow and high their roofs almost touched above their tunnel of dayless darkness.

They shouldn't follow him into this world of eternal twilight. But they did, never once hesitating.

The streets kept growing narrower. The houses seemed to move in from both sides to crush the two men. The canals' water beside them lay motionless and dark.

Alessandro felt a feeling of dread wash over him, invisible cold fingers sneaking beneath his skin and twisting his insides. Something was wrong ... he could feel it in his bones. This didn't feel like a chase anymore ... more like the servant was luring the racing men somewhere.

Don't follow him.

Soon, they couldn't run beside each other anymore. Alessandro stayed behind Giacinto, who had taken the lead with a swift nimbleness.

He really did remind the commissar of a cat. Confidently supple motions, powerful elegance lifting him above a drunk man passed out on the street with a smooth leap.

Where did he learn to run like that?  No talent in the world could explain the precise flow of muscles.

There was no trust between them, Alessandro knew. There was no friendliness between golden lions and black panthers. But together, they could hunt these invisible monsters. They were strong alone, but powerful together.

An alliance, not a friendship.

Alessandro had seen the laugh sparkling in green eyes with Lorenzo and Laelia. And he had seen the blank polishedness when they had shaken hands. He had seen how his lips had stretched into an adoring smile around Laelia, the kind of smile you didn't realize you were smiling, the one that was just there, glowing softly. He had seen how they had curled into provoking smirks and spat sharply calculated remarks around him.