Capitolo 29 #2
Her voice was trapped in her throat, held captive by the wave of fear that had swept over her body.
Ravenna glanced at Antonio, her heart thundering a furious rhythm against her chest. Before she could summon a response, one of her brother’s companions muttered a curse, raising his crossbow at eye level, his finger on the trigger.
Ravenna flung her arm in the shooter’s direction, her mouth parting, a scream building in her throat.
The arrow released at a blinding speed. Saturnino stepped aside, a dagger in his hand. He pulled his arm back, launching the blade at his attacker, who was frantically trying to load a new arrow into his weapon.
But it was too late for the priest.
The dagger hit him square in the chest, and he was flung backward, his robe rippling as he crashed onto the ground.
Saturnino shot forward, another slim blade in his palm, and sliced at the second priest, raking the tip of his blade across the man’s chest, his hand a pale blur in the night.
The second priest stumbled back, his robe gaping to reveal a bloody gash.
He fired his crossbow wildly.
It missed Saturnino, who spun in Ravenna’s direction, eyes widening as she flung herself to the ground, landing hard on her knees as the arrow flew overhead.
She scrambled to her feet in time to see Saturnino snatch the crossbow from the second priest’s hands with a snarl.
He swung it high and smashed it into the priest’s head.
Blood splattered across Saturnino’s face as the priest fell backward.
His features were unrecognizable: a bashed-in nose, several missing teeth.
He made a pitiful noise as Saturnino raised the crossbow again to finish him off.
The hair at the nape of Ravenna’s neck rose.
Antonio brought up his weapon, inhaled, and took his shot.
Ravenna gasped. “No!”
Her brother’s aim was true. The arrow struck Saturnino in his shoulder; he let out a muted roar, wrenching the arrow free.
Pain distorted his features, and he seemed to be having trouble breathing.
He took a shaky step, but another arrow came for him.
Then another. The last hit catapulted Saturnino off his feet, launching him over the railing of the bridge and down into the icy waters of the Arno River.
Ravenna didn’t think. She sprinted to the spot where Saturnino had disappeared, her brother yelling at her to stop, to ask what the hell she thought she was doing—
She reached the ledge where he’d gone over and looked down.
“Saturnino!” she bellowed.
The water had already swallowed him whole.
Only a faint ripple across the river’s surface told her where he’d vanished.
She gripped the ledge and hauled herself up and over, the skirt of her gown gathering at her knees, revealing her stocking-clad legs.
She flung off her shoes; one dropped below her and was carried off by the current.
The wind tore at her hair, howled in her ear.
Antonio ran to his sister. He reached for her, frantic and desperate, but Ravenna twisted away. “Don’t touch me!”
“Sorella,” he said, sounding like the brother she once knew. Young, up to his ears in mischief. “Another immortal comes, stop this—”
Ravenna launched herself forward.
The air rushed around her for a split second before she hit the river.
The cold snatched at her breath, and Ravenna inhaled sharply and then dipped into the cold arms of the Arno.
Instinct took over, and she kicked her legs, sweeping her arms out wide as she swam for the bottom.
Her eyes burned as she searched for Saturnino, for a glimpse of the color red.
The water swirled around her in a murky haze.
Panic crept over her as the seconds ticked by.
Ravenna turned. Her gown billowed around her, and she impatiently pushed at the fabric. A blur of movement caught her eye: a flash of a sleeve steeped in a deep red.
Saturnino.
He was below her, standing upright, attempting to walk, his hands navigating the water as if he were balancing on a tightrope.
The arrows protruded from his chest; silver-blue blood swirled around him like shimmering spilled ink.
Ravenna kicked her legs again, reaching him moments later; the air caught in her chest, yearning for release.
She was running out of breath.
She fought against it, telling herself that this river was no different from the lake by the locanda.
Her haven away from the demands of her family, her chores, the pile of stone in her studio.
She knew how to stay underwater, how to trap her breath for several minutes before she needed to swim to the surface.
Her heart raced. She knew that if she gave in to her panic, the remaining air in her lungs would burn faster. Ravenna reached Saturnino and grasped his pale hand. She flinched, his skin painfully cold against hers.
Saturnino blinked at her, his mouth parting in astonishment.
In the depths of his eyes, a raw emotion glimmered back at her, undefinable and potent.
Ravenna gently closed his lips and then slipped her hands around his waist, kicking hard against the ground.
She frowned; he was heavier than she anticipated.
Precious air shot out of her nose from the effort of pulling him up.
Saturnino made a protesting gesture, telling her to go, to leave him.
Ravenna tightened her hold around his waist, and his dark brows slammed together.
He shook his head at her, furious, glowering, but she ignored him.
Ravenna gritted her teeth and tried pulling him up again, but this time he pointed ahead of him, to the sloping ground that led up and out of the river.
His idea was ludicrous; surely it was better to swim up to the surface?
Saturnino took her hands and positioned her in front of him. Ravenna brushed her arms around his neck. He stared at her, his dark green eyes intent on hers. I’m the one who is immortal, his look seemed to say. Trust me.
More air escaped from Ravenna, through her nose, through her gritted teeth.
Saturnino untangled himself from her and pushed her upward.
She resisted but he glared at her, shoving her up and away.
Ravenna kicked and swam up to the river’s surface.
Frustration curled around her. If she was running out of air, then so was he.
Ravenna cleared the water’s surface, gasping. She inhaled sharply, coughed, and inhaled again, this time more calmly, then went back down into the deep, swimming hard. A sense of urgency was in every one of her strokes.
Ravenna was almost there when Saturnino’s body jerked wildly, his lips open in a silent scream.
His lungs were filling up with water. Ravenna swam faster, her legs burning from the effort as she fought hard against the current.
She reached him as his body pitched forward, as if he were a pillar of stone collapsing.
His eyes were unseeing, blank. Ravenna cried out, bubbles shooting out of her mouth.
Saturnino had drowned.
Ravenna grabbed the sides of his face, refusing to let him tumble down into the earth, refusing to let him go.
She angled her lips, readying to pass air back into his mouth.
He didn’t respond. She wanted to beat his chest, she wanted to howl at him to come back.
The water pressed down on her, and she was straining under the weight of her failure to save him. Her muscles ached.
A curious despair gripped her.
But then Saturnino’s eyes flew open.
He regarded her in unfocused confusion. He blinked rapidly, his gaze sharpening, then he snapped his mouth shut. Ravenna gasped, air bubbles floating between them.
He had died.
But now he was picking up his legs, trudging forward, the effort costing him.
Saturnino’s expression turned grim and he motioned for her to help him.
Ravenna swam around him, her skirts billowing as she placed her hands flat against his back.
She kicked her legs again, propelling him forward, his weight heavy and cumbersome.
Their progress was laborious and slow.
Her lungs burned. She couldn’t hold on much longer.
Ravenna set her teeth and swam, trying to calm her racing heart.
But then Saturnino turned, and he took hold of her waist, launching her upward as if he were throwing her into the air.
Ravenna gripped his hand to keep herself from sailing up; she wanted to give him air, even though she knew it wouldn’t be enough.
He must have understood what she wanted because he abruptly turned his head away from her, his dark hair a halo around his temples. Ravenna pinched him and he looked back at her, his expression harsh. He motioned for her to leave him.
Ravenna swam, internally kicking and screaming, but she did it.
By the time she returned, Saturnino was drowning again. His eyes were wild with panic, body jerking out of his control as the river filled his lungs. Ravenna tried to give him air, but he wouldn’t let her.
She watched him die again.
It was an awful, hair-raising experience watching it unfold across her eyes. He clutched at his throat, his mouth open in a silent, horrifying scream. Ravenna gripped his shoulders and tugged him forward, desperate to help him. But he was gone.
For a breathless moment, his body swayed gently in the water, eyes vacant again.
Saturnino came back the next second.
Again, he went through the same confusing orientation of his surroundings; the visible panic in his features made her heart sink.
But then he picked up his feet, his face grim and determined.
He was caught in a nightmare, and she could do nothing but help him take another step toward the river’s edge.
Saturnino seemed to know when she was close to running out of air because he grabbed her waist to launch her up over his head.
She hated leaving him, hated breaking the surface, her lungs burning for want of air.
Ravenna inhaled deeply as she looked to the river’s edge.
The icy water curled around her in a merciless grip.
Her teeth chattered, and her hands were curling from the cold.
It would be so easy to leave him.
But something held her back.
He was alone down there, drowning again and again, and he was scared. She couldn’t let him die alone. Even though he came back, his death was painful. Horrifying.
Ravenna inhaled and went back to him.
They repeated the process; she had to leave him twice more to swim up to the surface.
Each time she returned, it was in time to see him drowning.
And each time, he refused to take any air from her.
She had to watch him die, his body jerking, his hands gripping his throat as if trying to keep the water from flooding his lungs.
He died again and again, and it was the most terrible thing she had ever witnessed.
The memory of it would haunt her for the rest of her life.
She kept pushing him, and they finally broke the surface, moonlight sparkling across the water in welcome.
They gasped for air, stumbling up the bank, the cold hissing around them like a feral beast snapping at their heels.
Ravenna took Saturnino’s hand and yanked him forward until they were at last fully released from the water.
Saturnino coughed, vomiting water, falling onto his hands and knees. Ravenna dropped down next to him, pressing close to his side. She placed a soft hand across the expanse of his shoulders, careful not to touch the protruding arrows.
“It’s over,” she said, her teeth clacking loudly. “It’s over.”
Saturnino stared down at his hands, his body shuddering. His pale fingers dug into the dirt as he forcefully gulped in air. Ravenna made soothing noises, the kind she made for her siblings whenever they were sick in bed.
“I hate that fucking river,” he gasped.
She rubbed his back and he let out another shuddering breath. His body finally settled.
Slowly, Saturnino turned his head to look at her.
Their faces were inches apart. His hair hung in long, dark strips around his temple and cheeks, the water dripping down his skin in a slow, icy crawl.
He looked at her as if he had never seen her before, his eyes piercing and glittering like silver coins.
He stared at her as if she were a mythical creature that shouldn’t exist, something precious and mysterious.
For the first time, Ravenna felt as if she were staring into the face of a human being.
Vulnerable and afraid and awestruck.
“Why?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
Ravenna let out a shaky exhale, and her breath clouded between them. She didn’t know what question he was asking her. Why had she stayed? Or why had she betrayed him? Either way, he wanted an answer.
An honest one.
She pressed her lips together, too frightened of the consequences to tell him the truth.
A loud shout came from the top of the riverbank.
Saturnino kept looking at her as a group of riders veered for them.
They dismounted at the top of the hill, and then scrambled down the sloping ground, slipping as they went.
Marco marched ahead of the group; his lips twisted in a feral scowl. He drew his sword and pointed it at Ravenna. “Give the bitch to me, fratello.”