The Vessel of Ra

Chapter 4: The Borgias

Carlo's eyes combed through the Austrians in case Paolo was there. Nonno was chummy enough with them for the entire household, which meant the Borgias supplied the apothecary needs for the Austrians. Paolo had even finessed a deal with the captain regarding serpentine gunpowder cakes, for their cannons. Many people saw the Borgias dealing with the Austrians as betrayal. Dignity was a worthy price for getting what you want, Paolo said, and what he wanted was to pull strings, to provide for his family. Carlo saw his grandfather's view, but didn't think it was one he wanted to adopt in its entirety.

Carlo peered into his grandfather's favorite public house, the Cantina Do Mori. The bar was flush with Venetians enjoying a mid-morning meal. He made straight for his grandfather's table, ducking a boisterous drinking contest taking place between two men. The floor was sticky, the air permeated with beer. Carlo sidestepped a puddle and hovered above his grandfather.

"I've been searching for you," said Carlo. "After you tell me we have a Binder in the house, you disappear. Mama doesn't seem too happy with you." Or anyone, Carlo thought.

"Because of the Binder?"

"Because you're you, keeping secrets. Always. I'm not happy either," said Carlo. "Mama is acting like our guest is the devil, and I find out you both have been keeping secrets about our family from me. I resent that you didn't tell me."

"About the magic?"

"If you told me anything, ever, it would be helpful."

Paolo smiled, food in his teeth, his breath thick with alcohol. "Are you thirsty? Let me buy you something." A few words from Paolo and bread, cheese, and sour wine appeared. The innkeeper brought over a few sardines as well, knowing Paolo favored them.

Carlo stuck his tongue in the wine. It was cheap stuff, tasting like vinegar, and he placed it on the table.

Paolo bit into a sardine, fluttering its tail with his tongue, black juice trickling down his chin like fishy tobacco. "I'm listening."

"Mama thinks we're going to turn Lucy over to the Austrians. Are we?"

"Oh," said Paolo, "she's Lucy, now?" He wiped the sardine juice off his chin with his sleeve. "I don't think we have any business telling a Binder what she can or can't do, especially a Binder allied to a powerful demon."

"Don't you care what happens to her?"

"I don't understand why you do."

"I saved her life." No one else seems to care about her at all, Carlo thought. Where were her people?

"Gallant, as usual. Why should you feel responsible for a stranger? I might add a dangerous stranger."

"What magic demands someone fights a demon? That she might die?"

Paolo Borgia laughed. He wiped his fingers. "You foolish boy! You live in Venice and you speak about destiny and choice. We know about destiny more than most." He slapped Carlo on the back. "You'll grow up to be a hero, I suspect." Paolo leaned across the bread and cheese and lowered his voice. "The Klaereons have a peculiar arrangement."

Carlo sat back. The old man's hands shook and his nose was too red. "You have been strange ever since I pulled Lucy out from the canal. What aren't you telling me?"

Paolo swished some sour wine in his mouth. "About myself, I have told you nothing. Ever. But the time has come for me to tell you something, yes?"

Carlo stayed silent. He stabbed a sardine, disliked the rotting smell, and shook it off his knife and back onto the platter.