Armida sat on the ground and closed her eyes. They should have been tested in the ocean. They were Mareans, sea dwellers. "I have decided I will not need these Terran skills. The time here will be my one and only experience of land."
"You are feeling confident today, I see." Torquato shook his head. "Like the sunfish that thinks it has no predators."
Armida puffed air out of her nose. Another Teran skill that expressed emotion. It was curious but satisfying. "Do not treat me like a child. It's insulting."
Torquato grimaced. "If you continue behaving as a child, what would you expect?"
The breeze brought odors from the Terran city of Venice. Armida tilted her head back, inhaling, concentrating on identification of the unfamiliar scents. She had failed the last test on smells. Air was dry, dusty in her lungs. At least she no longer coughed as much.
Torquato closed his eyes as he took several breaths and asked, "Describe it to me. What do you smell?"
"Saltwater, fish—rotting fish. Things without names. They make my nose tingle. Smoke." A rancid odor overtook Armida with the next breath. "What is that?" She gagged.
"It is the tannery. Or the textile dyes. Or the printers. From just beyond Venice, the land without ocean. You must accustom yourself to these Terran things and learn the appropriate reaction. For your protection."
Armida stood. "As I said, safety on Terra is unimportant. I am not leaving Marea." Armida drew in her lips, unwilling to reveal her foreboding. Armida spun away from her uncle, but without sufficient control of her new legs, her balance failed, and she pitched forward into the high grass.
The other Initiates joined them on the Green.
Isabetta asked, "Why are we gathering early in the morning?"
Torquato's face was bright with expectation. "You will spend today in Venice. Let us prepare."
Muck.
Rinaldo danced around the group. The earth's pull did not hold him down like the rest. He somersaulted and bounded, jumped in the air as if his legs had springs where Armida's had stones.
It was Terra calling him.
So be it.
✧✧✧
Torquato sailed to the northeast end of Venice and deposited them in the Venetian district, sestiere Castello, that had an active port. Their boat went undetected among the many moving in and out of the docks for loading and unloading of shipments.
"Buona fortuna! Remember, Venice is a city of walkers. And don't fall in a canal." Torquato laughed so hard he nearly rocked himself off the boat. "I will be back at 4:00. Look to the San Marco clock tower for guidance. Remember your lessons that Terrans are controlled by their instruments for rationing time. We must depart before dusk when the workers of the city rush home."
Armida remained motionless after both feet were on the ground. This was Venice. Terra. The place of her nightmares. At least Torquato had furnished suitable clothing so they blended with the crowd at the quay, but the long sleeves of rough brown wool scratched her arms where her linen chemise had holes, and the entire dress smelled of dampness. The apron had light stains on the skirt. She was glad the bodice was clean.
What are we supposed to do all day?
Rinaldo strode alone toward a crumbling building. He failed to adhere to Torquato's admonition that a calm, even pace might camouflage his social class. He wouldn't be mistaken for a patrician, and not by his clothes alone. Armida was grateful slower steps were expected. It hid her clumsiness that speed exposed.
For women in Venice, strolling along the walkways and through the squares was acceptable, but they would need to proceed with caution; the calli and campi had risks that Rinaldo did not face.
Isabetta said, "We should stay with Rinaldo. As women, we may need the illusion of his protection."
Armida pursed her lips. "It is yet another reason to shun Terra. But Rinaldo will revel in this new power."
Rinaldo was unrestrained by the labyrinth that extended to the city's center. He disappeared into a throng moving along the wide sidewalk next to the Canale Grande.
"Perhaps not. He left us behind. He is so excited he has forgotten we are at the mercy of these Terran men. Though, to be sure, some are quite handsome." Delfina dropped her gaze as a scruffy man took notice and pushed toward them. She whispered, "He is not one of them."
"Delfina, see what you have done in your boldness. We have only arrived and trouble is at our door." Armida's complaint whistled through her teeth.
Two more men stepped from a shadowed doorway and separated Armida from Isabetta and Delfina, who were leaden with inaction. Armida squirmed as one hand slid around her waist and another pressed her against the damp wall. Her skin shivered. She recoiled as she was shoved into a narrow passage, the rough stone scraping at the cloth of her dress.
Isabetta pitched her voice to be heard. "Ah, dear Rinaldo. He returns."
"I have determined where we are. We need only follow this walkway to the Piazza." His voice had registered a thrill but shifted with his question. "Where is Armida?"
A surge of relief hit Armida when she heard Rinaldo's voice and she called out. "I am here!"
Rinaldo darted into the alley and Armida staggered upon the sudden release when the slovenly man skittered away. Armida refused Rinaldo's hand as they walked back to where Isabetta and Delfina huddled. "I hate these Terrans more than I hate sludgesharks. They are as disgusting. That man would be in good company with them."
Rinaldo steered them toward the Piazza, passing the stream of people that included porters and patricians, the latter in their long black robes moving like a school of fish mindful of the threats from predators. Armida saw they were all men. Those few in red robes caught her attention because they were reminiscent of the colorful gurnard that swarmed in the waters near Marea.
To their left, on the Canale Grande, gondolas oared by men with tunics over colorfully patterned tights deposited their occupants with ease despite the crowding. Yearning for the feel of water on her body overtook Armida and she followed the others, stumbling blindly.
They passed peddlers of fruit and vegetables and homes tightly shuttered. They would not pause until they reached the Piazza. Finally, among the crowd, there were a few women, most with sheer gray or black face coverings and with their long skirts trailing on the stone walk. Armida caught sight of the shoes one woman wore—more carved tree stump than footwear. They were awkward and of a height that required the woman to have a young boy assisting her as she clomped where others sauntered. She might as well have been trying to walk with a mermaid's tail.
Delfina showed herself to be a keen observer of details. "Torquato did not teach us of the veiling of some women. The ones the nobles acknowledge with their subtle nods. What does it mean? And why are others unveiled?"
Armida shrugged as they continued their progress without attracting attention. "Who can understand Terran reasoning for their behavior? It is baffling." Torquato had not had enough time to teach them all the things they needed to know.
A stranger caught Delfina's arm when she stumbled. "Thank you, sir." She blushed deep red at the leer he offered in response and pulled away from his grasp.
Shared sighs whooshed quietly from everyone when they accomplished their goal and stood in the Piazza San Marco, a space open and airy despite the bustling population coming and going. Porters carried barrels and baskets. Those carrying the latter on their heads wore thick cloth hoods, presumably to protect from the heavy weight. Everywhere was an unfamiliar sight flooding Armida's senses.
She turned to the Basilica and saw the enormous statues adorning the ornate façade of the church. "The golden horses! I have not the right words to describe their grace and strength."
Isabetta shook her head. "Yes, beautiful but stolen during a war. It was like the old days when we battled Thalassa with each side stealing treasures of the other."
"Those men, what are they ferrying?" Armida stared as two men using long horizontal poles carried a portable cabinet through a throng of people. The cabinet window was curtained and its carvings were gilded. They stopped near the entrance to the Basilica, where a scarlet-robed man, his back twisted and bowed, pushed back the drapery, and stepped onto the Piazza. "Even people are cargo here." Armida shook her head and said, "Let us proceed to the Mercerie, where we might find food and water."
The calli they followed were narrow and crowded. One finally led them to a campo with sellers of a variety of foods and a freshwater wellhead in the center of the square. Vendors offered fruit less appealing than what they had seen near San Marco; some of it was rotting.
Armida had hoped for fish, but her hunger had her settle for onions and pears. She peeled the paper skin of the onion and bit into it before spitting it to the ground. The pear, fragrant and ripe, resulted in a dribble on her chin which she wiped with her sleeve. "I quite like the pear but I am skeptical of the onion which is quite harsh. Isabetta, how do you find your meal? You seem quite intent on inspecting it."
Isabetta dipped two fingers into a bowl and scooped out a substance that she examined and sniffed before licking it from her fingers. "It is...interesting. Warm, a bit gritty, salty like the sea. Softer than sand. A grain porridge."
Rinaldo, who had gone off to investigate options, bounded back to them. "I found shrimp! Raw. Across the campo is a private corner where we all can rest and have a taste of the sea until we must end this grand adventure. And praise Torquato for providing such an opportunity and coins as to pay our way."
✧✧✧
It had been a long day, and even Rinaldo was tired. Both he and Isabetta had fallen into sleep almost from the moment their heads touched their pillows.
Delfina sat on the corner of Armida's bed. She plucked at the coverlet while she spoke. "It wasn't that bad. You might not have to spend much time in Terra again, and the problem is solved."
With a soft grunt, Armida rolled toward the wall, dragging the covers with her until they cocooned her.
"You can't hide forever. Torquato is already irritated by your comments on the boat. He grows tired of your attitude. As do we all."
Armida flung off her coverlet and sat up. Delfina threw up her hands as if under attack. They both breathed heavily in the silence between them.
Lips drawn into a tight scowl, Armida said, "It does not matter about the Antichi or what the Tribunale thinks. I have made my choice." She stared at Delfina, who gaped with her eyes wide.
Delfina said, "What can you mean by this? Our training is not complete."
"Do not worry. I will complete the training. I may yet learn something useful."
"And the Tribunale? And the decision the Antichi will reveal to you about your service year?"
"Why should I allow the Tribunale or the Antichi to decide?" Armida's words were harsh. Because she meant them to be and because her vocal cords lacked the flexibility to soften and lengthen sounds.
"You have changed, Armida."
The caustic laugh from Armida caused Delfina to startle.
"Is not that the purpose of the Rites? That is what the word means. Metamorphosis." Silently, Armida ticked off a list: heart, legs and feet, voice, lungs, shed of scales, too many smaller physical changes to categorize. With such intensity, mental changes had to be expected, too, though if she was honest, her misgivings had started earlier. Back when she first acknowledged the grimewater had spread. It was like the filth had poisoned her mind.
"We are not meant to question. The Antichi are not to be doubted."
"Why not? Maybe they should be. Ask Rinaldo what he thinks. What if they deny him land?"
"It is wrong. I will not tolerate these words from you. You cannot mean them."
"I do. I mean them, and I will mean them tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that."
Delfina stood. Staring at her feet, she said, "I'm afraid I must inform someone of your mockery of the Antichi and the Tribunale. I'm sorry."
"I am not surprised you have concluded I am a threat. Do what you must. But do not lie and say you are sorry."
When Delfina was gone, Armida returned to her bed and cried at the loss of her trusted friend. And she mourned the many losses to come.