Chapter 15 #2
He had five of the pietra magiche embedded in his staff. Whoever he was, he was very powerful.
“Better?” he drawled.
“Yes,” she said quietly, awestruck. “Not just a courier, then.”
The man was a wizard.
She’d never met one before. Wizards were a rare breed; it was said that every time they used magic, it stole from their life, cutting it down by hours, days, depending on the spell. Most men who had the ability opted never to engage with magic at all, preferring to live instead.
“Isn’t that dangerous for you?” she couldn’t help but ask.
He flashed her a humorless grin, white teeth gleaming in the pale light. “If it were, then you’d be wasting my time. Read the letter, Ravenna.”
How did His Holiness know who she was? How had he known her name? Curious, Ravenna dipped her head and read the lines. She blinked, horrified, and read the letter again. Over and over, hardly comprehending the message.
Signorina Ravenna,
Congratulations for your triumph in the competition.
An execrable wrong has grown in Florence and I am in need of pious servants who will help me put to death this intractable evil.
Florentines have been infected with greed, a lust for magic, and the spirit of rebellion.
I write to you during these tempestuous times in demand of your service.
I have learned of your capture, and while it grieves me greatly, you must remain under their control.
The Luni famiglia is not only my enemy, but the enemy of Rome.
They are actively working against me and hatching a plot to destroy my Holy Seat.
This is crucial, signorina, but you must fail in the work you’ve been hired to complete.
Whatever their plot, it must not succeed.
You will be my eyes within the palazzo walls, gathering crucial information from their influential friends and allies.
Should you need sanctuary away from the Palazzo dei Luni, bring this letter with you.
My associates in Florence will keep you hidden, provided you show proof of my seal.
Unite with me and complete this sacred task for the Lord your God.
If you do not, I will have to assume you are also my enemy.
If that is so, then the punishment is excommunication, for not only you, but your family, and all of Volterra.
She looked up at the courier with wide eyes. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Will it be a problem?”
“It’s impossible,” she sputtered. “This is a mistake. He’s making a mistake. I’m not a spy. How will I—”
“His Holiness doesn’t make mistakes.”
Her protests fell silent, and a new terror reached for her, threatening to carve a hole in the ground where it might bury her.
What she had just said bordered on blasphemy.
No one was allowed to question the pope, not if they valued their life.
Not if they cared where their soul would spend eternity in the afterlife.
“Of course not, it’s only … there has to be someone else. ”
“You’re uniquely suited.”
She shook her head. He only thought that because he didn’t know about her secret. “I promise you, I’m not—”
“And I promise you,” he began coldly, “that I won’t hesitate to drag your family through hell and back if that’s what it will take for you to do the job. Is that clear enough for you?”
The magic inside her roared to life, wanting escape. Ravenna wrapped her arms around herself, desperately trying to contain the onslaught of power roiling through her. Her body shook from the effort.
The courier meant what he said, and after a long, tortured beat, Ravenna nodded.
He stepped closer, warm brown eyes intent on hers. “What do they want with you?”
Ravenna stared at him, torn, the magic stirring her blood, making her pulse tick hard. She wanted to be free of this place, to return to the life she once knew. She had been prepared to claw her way back instead of risking Saturnino’s wrath, but now … What mattered to her more?
Her mortal life or her immortal soul?
It was an easier decision than she initially thought.
“I’m to free five Nightflame gemstones,” Ravenna said quietly. “I don’t know why, but I will endeavor to find out.”
“Five pietra magiche,” the courier said under his breath. “Five crates.”
“It will be no problem to fail in the task,” she continued. “I can’t chip away at the protective virgin stone encasing the gemstones. It’s near impossible.” She hesitated. “But you should know that if I fail, my life will be forfeit.”
The courier absorbed her words without a hint of emotion, but she had the uncanny sense that he was having an internal conversation with himself, quick turns of his mind. She was proven right when he said, “Magic responds to magic. Use yours.”
Her magic brought only death. “But it’s—”
“I know what it is and what you can do,” he said. “You have an affinity to the Nightflame. It happens sometimes to those who have a powerful witch ancestor.” He paused a beat. “Consider how the virgin stone protects its charge, how it’s alive with motive and reason, and begin from there.”
“Begin how?” Ravenna pressed.
“I must consult with His Holiness to see his thoughts on the matter, but I trust he won’t want to lose you as a resource.
Chip at the stone, a little at a time, until you hear from me again.
” The courier backed away from her, his gaze never leaving her face.
“Time for you to return to the palazzo. There will be someone inside who will work with you.”
Ravenna kept still, despite the hole at her feet becoming deeper and deeper. She’d never be able to crawl out. The mayhem inside her pleaded to be set free. “How will I know who they are?”
“They will make themselves known to you.” The courier impatiently turned from her, and Ravenna watched him leave as silently as he had arrived, a ghost drifting from one world and into the next, the dark shadows swallowing him whole.
She slipped the letter back into the envelope, then tucked both into a hidden skirt pocket, reeling.
The long-living Pope Sixtus IV had written to her.
The courier had relayed her victory to His Holiness—by magical means. Nothing else made sense. How else would His Holiness have known about her, and so quickly? Raw emotion swirled through her body. The pope was famous for his hatred of all magic, and yet she had proof of his use of it.
But she would never be able to speak of it.
Excommunication was a death sentence she would not wish on anyone, not even on the Florentine guards who had locked up her brother. If Ravenna didn’t perform in a way His Holiness approved of, then no one in Volterra would be able to marry. Baptize their children. Receive their last rites.
And every single one of them would know it had been because of her.
Her family would be ostracized, their good name torn apart.
They would lose their home. They would lose their inn.
Destitute. Scorned. Forsaken.
Ravenna curled her hands into fists. She was almost relieved to have gotten the message from His Holiness.
Given what the Medici family had done to her town, to her brother, she did not mind.
Given how Saturnino had threatened her life, she did not care about his downfall, or his family’s fall from grace.
In fact, she was beginning to look forward to it.