The Magicians of Caprona (25 page)

So, in order to keep him there, Elizabeth had first Tonino and then Rosa and Marco come and tell him their stories.

Rosa and Marco had met when they were both working on the Old Bridge. Falling in love and deciding to marry had been the easiest part, over in minutes. The difficulty was that they had to provide themselves with a family each which had nothing to do with either Casa. Rosa contrived a family first. She pretended to be English. She became very friendly with the English girl at the Art Gallery—the same Jane Smith that Rinaldo fancied so much. Jane Smith thought it was a great joke to pretend to be Rosa’s sister. She wrote long letters in English to Guido Petrocchi, supposed to be from Rosa’s English father, and visited the
Casa Petrocchi herself the day Rosa was introduced there.

Rosa and Marco planned the introductions carefully. They used the pear-tree spell—which they worked together—in both Casas, to Jane’s amusement. But the Petrocchis, though they liked the pear-tree, were not kind to Rosa at first. In fact, some of Marco’s aunts were so unpleasant that Marco was quite disgusted with them. That was why Marco was able to tell Antonio so vehemently that he hated the Petrocchis. But the aunts became used to Rosa in time. Renata and Angelica became very fond of her. And the wedding was held just after Christmas.

All this time, Marco had been unable to find anyone to act as a family for him. He was in despair. Then, only a few days before the wedding, his father sent him with a message to the house of Mario Andretti, the builder. And Marco discovered that the Andrettis had a blind daughter. When Marco asked, Mario Andretti said he would do anything for anyone who cured his daughter.

“Even then, we hardly dared hope,” said Marco. “We didn’t know if we could cure her.”

“And apart from that,” said Rosa, “the only time we dared both go there was the night after the wedding.”

So the wedding was held in the Casa Petrocchi. Jane Smith helped Rosa make her dress and was a bridesmaid for her, together with Renata, Angelica and one of Marco’s cousins. Jane thoroughly enjoyed the wedding and seemed, Rosa said dryly, to find Marco’s cousin Alberto at least as attractive as Rinaldo, whereas Rosa and Marco could think of almost nothing but little Maria Andretti. They hurried to the Andrettis’ house as soon as the celebrations were over.

“And I’ve never known anything so difficult,” said Rosa. “We were at it all night—”

Elizabeth was unable to contain herself here. “And I never even knew you were out!” she said.

“We took good care you didn’t,” said Rosa. “Anyway, we hadn’t done anything like that before, so we had to look up spells in the University. We tried seventeen and none of them worked. In the end we had to make up one of our own. And all the time, I was thinking: suppose this doesn’t work on the poor child either, and we’ve played with the Andrettis’ hopes.”

“Not to speak of our own,” said Marco. “Then our spell worked. Maria yelled out that the room was all colors and there were things like trees in it—she thought people looked like trees—and we all jumped about in the dawn, hugging one another. And Andretti was as good as his word, and did his brother act so well here that I told him he ought to be on the stage.”

“He took
me
in,” Old Niccolo said, wonderingly.

“But someone was bound to find out in the end,” said Elizabeth. “What did you mean to do then?”

“Just hoped,” said Marco. “We thought perhaps people might get used to it—”

“In other words, you behaved like a couple of young idiots,” said Old Niccolo. “What is that terrible stench?” And he leaped up and raced out onto the gallery to investigate, with Elizabeth, Rosa and Marco racing after him to stop him.

The smell, of course, was the kitchen-spell again. The insects had vanished and a smell of drains had taken their place. All day long, the kitchen belched out stinks, which grew stronger towards evening. It was particularly unfortunate, because the whole of Caprona was preparing to feast and celebrate. Caprona was truly at peace. The troops from Florence, and Pisa and Siena, had all returned home—somewhat bewildered and wondering how they had been beaten—and the people of Caprona were dancing in the streets.

“And we can’t even cook, let alone celebrate!” wailed Aunt Gina.

Then an invitation arrived from the Casa Petrocchi. Would the Casa Montana be pleased to join in the celebrations at the Casa Petrocchi? It was a trifle stiff, but the Casa Montana did please. What could be more fortunate? Tonino and Paolo suspected that it was Chrestomanci’s doing. The only difficulty was to stop Old Niccolo getting out of bed and going with the rest of them. Everyone said Elizabeth had done enough. Everyone, even Aunt Francesca, wanted to go. Then, more fortunately still, Uncle Umberto turned up, and old Luigi Petrocchi with him. They said they would sit with Old Niccolo—and on him if necessary. They were too old for dancing.

So everyone else went to the Casa Petrocchi, and it proved a celebration to remember. The Duke was there, because Angelica had insisted on it. The Duke was so grateful to be invited that he had brought with him as much wine and as many cakes as his coach would hold, and six footmen in a second coach to serve it.

“The Palace is awful,” he said. “No one in it but Punch and Judys. Somehow I don’t fancy them like I used to.”

What with the wine, the cakes, and the good food baked in the Casa Petrocchi kitchen, the evening became very merry. Somebody found a barrel organ and everyone danced to it in the yard. And, if the six footmen forgot to serve cakes and danced with the rest, who was to blame them? After all, the Duke was dancing with Aunt Francesca—a truly formidable sight.

Tonino sat with Paolo and Renata beside a charcoal brazier, watching the dancing. And while they sat, Benvenuto suddenly emerged from the shadows and sat down by the brazier, where he proceeded to give himself a fierce and thorough wash.

They had done a fine, enjoyable job on that white rat, he informed Tonino, as he stuck one leg high above his gnarled head and subjected it to punishing tongue work. She’d not be back again.

“But is Vittoria all right?” Renata wanted to know.

Fine, was Benvenuto’s answer. She was resting. She was going to have kittens. They would be particularly good kittens because Benvenuto was the father. Tonino was to make sure to get one for the Casa Montana.

Tonino asked Renata for a kitten then and there, and Renata promised to ask Angelica. Where upon, Benvenuto, having worked over both hind legs, wafted himself onto Tonino’s knees, where he made himself into a tight brown mat and slept for an hour.

“I wish I could understand him,” said Paolo. “He tried to tell me where you were, but all I did was see a picture of the front of the Palace.”

“But that’s how he always tells things!” said Tonino. He was surprised Paolo had not known. “You just have to read his pictures.”

“What’s he saying now?” Renata asked Paolo.

“Nothing,” said Paolo. “Snore, snore.” And they all laughed.

Sometime later, when Benvenuto had woken up and drifted off to try his luck in the kitchen, Tonino wandered into a room nearby, without quite knowing why he did. As soon as he got inside, though, he knew it was no accident. Chrestomanci was there, with Angelica and Guido Petrocchi, and so was Antonio. Antonio was looking so worried that Tonino braced himself for trouble.

“We were discussing you, Tonino,” said Chrestomanci. “You helped Angelica fetch the griffins, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” said Tonino. He remembered the damage they had done and felt alarmed.

“And you helped in the kitchen-spell?” asked Chrestomanci.

Tonino said “Yes” again. Now he was sure there was trouble.

“And when you hanged the Duchess,” Chrestomanci said, to Tonino’s confusion, “how did you do that?”

Tonino wondered how he could be in trouble over that too, but he answered, “By doing what the puppet show made me do. I couldn’t get out of it, so I had to go along with it, you see.”

“I do,” said Chrestomanci, and he turned to Antonio rather triumphantly. “You see? And that was the White Devil! What interests me is that it was someone else’s spell each time.” Then before Tonino could be too puzzled, he turned back to him. “Tonino,” he said, “it seems to me that you have a new and rather useful talent. You may not be able to work many spells on your own, but you seem to be able to turn other people’s magic to your own use. I think if they had let you help on the Old Bridge, for instance, it would have been mended in half a day. I’ve been asking your father if he’d let you come back to England with me, so that we could find out just what you can do.”

Tonino looked at his father’s worried face. He hardly knew what to think. “Not for good?” he said.

Antonio smiled. “Only for a few weeks,” he said. “If Chrestomanci’s right, we’ll need you here badly.”

Tonino smiled too. “Then I don’t mind,” he said.

“But,” said Angelica, “it was me who fetched the griffins really.”

“What were you really fetching?” asked Guido.

Angelica hung her head. “Mice.” She looked resigned when her father roared with laughter.

“I wanted to talk about you too,” said Chrestomanci. He said to Guido, “Her spells always work, don’t they? It occurs to me you might learn from Angelica.”

Guido scratched his beard. “How to turn things green and get griffins, you mean?”

Chrestomanci picked up his glass of wine. “There are risks, of course, to Angelica’s methods. But I meant she can show you that a thing need not be done in the same old way in order to work. I think, in
time, she will make you a whole new set of spells. Both houses can learn from her.” He raised his wine glass. “Your health, Angelica. Tonino. The Duchess thought she was getting the weakest members of both Casas, and it turned out quite the opposite.”

Antonio and Guido raised their glasses too. “I’ll say this,” said Guido. “But for you two, we wouldn’t be celebrating tonight.”

Angelica and Tonino looked at each other and made faces. They felt very shy and very, very pleased.