Chapter 63
GAbrIEL
We didn’t have to wait long for the wheels of the mafia’s underworld to grind into motion.
Valeria’s network worked with the quiet efficiency of a complicated mechanism built over the centuries, running on bribes and secrets.
Add in a generous reward and by nightfall, the Venice rumor mill was in overdrive, and Giovanni DiRavello was on the warpath.
Gossip swirled around the city—the real Basin was in play.
There was a king’s ransom up for grabs for its return. Whispers of catacombs and an abbey, a haunted island in the lagoon circulated, exaggerated and embellished by greed and rumor mongering.
Everything was unfolding exactly as we’d planned.
Just before midnight, under a full moon, a stranger disappeared through the DiRavello palazzo’s side door, his face hidden beneath a hooded robe, much like the one Giovanni constantly wore.
Nico, Emberline, and I watched from two streets over, the three of us crammed like sardines into a cramped cupola covered in layers of pigeon shit, the floor beneath us so soft, I kept expecting it to give way.
Since Nico had the sharpest vision, he was giving us minute-by-minute reports, complete with his annoying commentary.
Gods, he was insufferable.
“He’s inside,” Nico murmured. “Your uncle looked constipated when he answered the door. He should probably work more fiber into his diet.”
“Stick with the facts, godsdamn it.” I ground the words out as if they were made of broken glass.
“If you want my job, have at it.” Nico lifted a brow, nostrils flaring. “Otherwise, I’m doing this the way I want.”
Of course he was, the pushy bastard.
“At least we know Giovanni got my note.” Emberline gingerly shifted her weight, the damp, sagging boards beneath us creaking like old bones.
“He got your note,” Nico confirmed. “Now let’s hope the mage is as useless as we’ve been told.”
Emilia had thoroughly vetted the mage—one Fausto Orsini from Rome—purportedly, he’d come highly recommended by Blackwood.
“A fraud and a charlatan,” she’d scoffed drily, waving a hand in the air. “He possesses a fraction of the magic needed to access the Basin, but his incompetence is good news for us. Giovanni’s doubts will only increase when the Basin remains inert. He’ll be convinced he has the decoy.”
Which was the entire point.
Giovanni trusted his own cleverness more than actual proof. If the Basin failed to respond, he’d blame the mage before he’d ever question whether he was being manipulated.
“Giovanni has heard the rumors.” My attention remained fixed on the palazzo. “He has Ember’s note. Best-case scenario, the bastard believes he’s the genius, putting all the pieces together exactly the way we wanted him to. Let’s hope he makes his move tonight.”
“Or we’ll be sitting in pigeon shit for a second night in a row,” Nico grumbled. “Not what I’d call quality alone time, if you know what I mean.” Then he sighed, air whistling through his teeth. “I miss the beach. I mean… I really miss it.”
We all ignored him.
If this Basin ruse didn’t work, we’d wasted one of our last advantages. Giovanni wasn’t a fool. If he smelled a trap now, he’d disappear again, and we’d never get this close again.
“Wait… wait.” Nico squinted. “I see them through the window. They’re…
arguing. Oh, your uncle is pissed. Now the mage looks constipated.
Fiber all around, I suppose. Two of Blackwood’s guards just showed up…
no stars, thank the gods. The mage is explaining something…
gods, he wears a lot of rings…your uncle’s looking at a map of the lagoon…
at the islands on the western end… he’s pointing. He’s still pointing.”
I clenched my jaw, my fingers gripping the edge of the rotting pergola so tightly, my knuckles turned white.
Come on.
Take the bait.
For once, let something go right.
“I can almost… Giovanni’s explaining something.
I think he just said Basin. Gods, he talks with his hands a lot.
He probably has arthritis. Stiff joints, at the very least. And the mage is explaining something, and now they’re both looking at the map, and I think…
I think…” Nico rocked back on his heels, the roof beneath our feet sinking as he changed position.
Every muscle in my body went rigid.
“Yes. He definitely said Ash Island.” Nico pumped his fist, a grin spreading across his face.
“Looks like we’re in business.”