IGMS Issue 22 Read Online Free Page B
Author: IGMS
prime. My brawny physique thinned and shortened, and my skin darkened to a sun-bronze. Pain blossomed in my left hand. Teethmarks from a mastiff's bite, still scabbing over, reminded me of our first burglary together as master and pupil.
Luca gasped at my transformation, but Mafeo managed a faint smile.
"Proof enough?" I asked with Mafeo's voice as it had been.
Luca sheathed his stiletto. "Forgive me, Master Flea. I had to be sure. Father prepared me for this moment with many tales of your magic, but I never believed him till now!"
"Tell me what happened."
"Two days ago, at the height of Carnivale, Father met with a Spaniard who claimed to know Álvaro de Bazán's plans for the Armada. I waited for him in a gondola, watching the costumed revelers go by. On his way back, a man in a white Volto mask pushed past him. In the space of a few steps Father had stumbled to the ground in a seizure. The masked man was long gone by the time Father's fits had calmed." He pulled up his father's sleeve and showed me a sickly red scratch.
I had seen poisonings like this before, administered by a needle hidden in a ring. "What of the Spaniard?"
Luca sighed. "I don't know how to find him. He would only meet with Father."
Mafeo wheezed, his breath stinking of rotten eggs.
"Rest, Mafeo. Your only task is to live." I held a cup of water to his lips. "I will find the antidote."
Mafeo closed his eyes.
"Come, let my sister tend to him," Luca whispered.
I hooded myself and donned my Harlequin mask as we left. Luca called to his sister and whispered instructions in her ear. Thereafter, we descended the stairs to the water door. I still wore Mafeo's face, and would for the remainder of the evening.
"Is there an antidote?" Luca asked.
"Your father's been given a concoction of many poisons tailored for a slow, agonizing death. One antidote is not enough."
"How do you know?"
I told him of the others who died in the same way. "I tried cure after cure, but unless all the poisons are countered, death comes within a day when the victim first coughs blood."
Luca paled. "What do we do?"
"The killer might carry the right antidotes or know the recipe for the poisons, but he will be hard to catch." I opened the water door and stepped into the moored gondola beyond. "But there is another way. The mithridate."
"What is it?" asked Luca, his voice regaining hope.
"Legend has it that King Mithridates the Sixth of Pontus so feared that he might be poisoned by his enemies, that he took small doses of many poisons to harden himself against them. He even made a special antidote that would protect him against all poisons, which came to bear his name."
Luca untied the rope and took hold of the oar. "But it's only a legend, isn't it?"
"They say the same of me. What has your father told you about me?"
"That you're a shapeshifter, centuries old. That you were once the outlaw Little John of the English ballads. That you now serve England's spymaster."
"Then believe me when I say that there are others far older than me, one of whom dwells in Venice and may keep the secret of the mithridate. Do you know
Ca' Clessidra
?"
"House Sandglass on Murano." Luca frowned. "Father said never to enter or steal from that place."
"An excellent and inviolable rule I taught him myself. Take me there."
As Luca ferried me across Laguna Veneta towards the isle of Murano, his silhouette against the setting sun reminded me much of his father. A gondolier by trade, Mafeo had given me my first tour of the city by canal thirty years ago. I had grown fond of the young Venetian during our explorations, even more so after he tried to cut the strings of my purse at the end of the day. Having centuries more experience at pickpocketing than he, he did not succeed, but I was so impressed by his audacity and potential that I took him as my apprentice. And now, the son followed in his father's footsteps.
By the light of dusk, I could see the palatial
Ca' Clessidra
on the approaching
Luca gasped at my transformation, but Mafeo managed a faint smile.
"Proof enough?" I asked with Mafeo's voice as it had been.
Luca sheathed his stiletto. "Forgive me, Master Flea. I had to be sure. Father prepared me for this moment with many tales of your magic, but I never believed him till now!"
"Tell me what happened."
"Two days ago, at the height of Carnivale, Father met with a Spaniard who claimed to know Álvaro de Bazán's plans for the Armada. I waited for him in a gondola, watching the costumed revelers go by. On his way back, a man in a white Volto mask pushed past him. In the space of a few steps Father had stumbled to the ground in a seizure. The masked man was long gone by the time Father's fits had calmed." He pulled up his father's sleeve and showed me a sickly red scratch.
I had seen poisonings like this before, administered by a needle hidden in a ring. "What of the Spaniard?"
Luca sighed. "I don't know how to find him. He would only meet with Father."
Mafeo wheezed, his breath stinking of rotten eggs.
"Rest, Mafeo. Your only task is to live." I held a cup of water to his lips. "I will find the antidote."
Mafeo closed his eyes.
"Come, let my sister tend to him," Luca whispered.
I hooded myself and donned my Harlequin mask as we left. Luca called to his sister and whispered instructions in her ear. Thereafter, we descended the stairs to the water door. I still wore Mafeo's face, and would for the remainder of the evening.
"Is there an antidote?" Luca asked.
"Your father's been given a concoction of many poisons tailored for a slow, agonizing death. One antidote is not enough."
"How do you know?"
I told him of the others who died in the same way. "I tried cure after cure, but unless all the poisons are countered, death comes within a day when the victim first coughs blood."
Luca paled. "What do we do?"
"The killer might carry the right antidotes or know the recipe for the poisons, but he will be hard to catch." I opened the water door and stepped into the moored gondola beyond. "But there is another way. The mithridate."
"What is it?" asked Luca, his voice regaining hope.
"Legend has it that King Mithridates the Sixth of Pontus so feared that he might be poisoned by his enemies, that he took small doses of many poisons to harden himself against them. He even made a special antidote that would protect him against all poisons, which came to bear his name."
Luca untied the rope and took hold of the oar. "But it's only a legend, isn't it?"
"They say the same of me. What has your father told you about me?"
"That you're a shapeshifter, centuries old. That you were once the outlaw Little John of the English ballads. That you now serve England's spymaster."
"Then believe me when I say that there are others far older than me, one of whom dwells in Venice and may keep the secret of the mithridate. Do you know
Ca' Clessidra
?"
"House Sandglass on Murano." Luca frowned. "Father said never to enter or steal from that place."
"An excellent and inviolable rule I taught him myself. Take me there."
As Luca ferried me across Laguna Veneta towards the isle of Murano, his silhouette against the setting sun reminded me much of his father. A gondolier by trade, Mafeo had given me my first tour of the city by canal thirty years ago. I had grown fond of the young Venetian during our explorations, even more so after he tried to cut the strings of my purse at the end of the day. Having centuries more experience at pickpocketing than he, he did not succeed, but I was so impressed by his audacity and potential that I took him as my apprentice. And now, the son followed in his father's footsteps.
By the light of dusk, I could see the palatial
Ca' Clessidra
on the approaching
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