Chapter 11 - Garrett
Marella relayed her family’s story as we walked through the streets of Rossaia. I was surprised, and maybe a bit ashamed, by how easily I believed her. After all, I came to this city to work with the Fratelli, to join in their endeavor to find and kill people—creatures—like Marella.
But she’d had an opportunity to kill me, to rid the world of one more member of the Fratelli…
and she hadn’t taken it. Perhaps this was penance.
Perhaps it was simply curiosity. Perhaps, as I’d always feared, I was simply a disloyal little weasel who jumped ship as soon as a new opportunity appeared.
Whatever the case, I felt myself drawn into her story.
I saw the glittering waters of Rossaia’s canals, saw the sharp hooks of villagers as they pulled Marella’s people ashore one by one.
It felt as though I was watching with her as she described the moment her mother approached the Stone Witch, as her family was pulled into the statues surrounding the central fountain.
And after what seemed like hours, I felt her disgust as she relayed her experience with the American man. She described his hands on her frozen body, and I felt bile rising in my own stomach as a flash of shame flickered across her face—there for a moment, then gone just as fast.
When she arrived at the point in her story where our paths truly crossed, she trailed off and shrugged. "And you know the rest."
We stopped walking. High, warm-colored walls and rows of windows stretched down the street on either side of us. The low hum of traffic buzzed in the distance, but where we stood was quiet. I was constantly surprised by the city’s ability to insulate noise.
I turned to face her. It was late afternoon, and the absence of direct sunlight made the air around us feel chilly in comparison to the heat from earlier in the day. Her face was turned to the sky, eyes tracing back and forth as if searching for something.
"Do you think it’s going to rain tonight?" she asked suddenly.
I could have pulled out my phone and checked the weather forecast, could have answered her question beyond a shadow of a doubt. But that would have also quenched the hope shining on her striking features, and I simply couldn’t bring myself to do that.
So instead, I looked up, mirroring her gaze. There were no visible clouds. "Maybe," I answered quietly, turning my attention away from the sky and back to her face. "Anything is possible."
When she finally turned her eyes back towards the ground, she looked sheepish. "You don’t have to humor me," she said quietly. "I know it won’t."
"Then why ask?"
She sighed. "Because talking about rain is almost as good as feeling it. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt rain on my actual skin. We always have to hide from it when we’re awake."
This seemed like as good an opportunity as any to ask a question that had been bothering me since she began her story.
"How is it that you’re awake now?" I asked. "Not only is it daylight, but tonight isn’t the new moon."
Her eyes darted away from mine, focusing on some distant point further down the street. She opened her mouth once, twice, then again, as if wondering how to answer—or perhaps not knowing how to begin.
"I’ve… made a deal," she spoke as if testing each word one by one.
"A deal?" I prompted. Again, her mouth moved like she was fighting to force it open.
"Yes," she said stiffly. "A deal to—" she broke off, frowning. "To break the curse." She shook her head. "I have a week to—dammit!"
The expletive came so suddenly that I instinctively reached for the hilt of my knife. When I looked back at her, Marella was glaring at me with unmitigated frustration.
"I have a week to figure out a way to break the curse," she said quickly, nearly stumbling over the words. "If I fail… I’m not actually sure what will happen to me, but I assume it won’t be good. My mother made a deal with the Stone Witch, and we never saw her again."
For the second time that day, I found myself acting without thinking.
"How can I help?"