Cosimo finally seemed to catch on to what she was trying to say. "You were hiding this ability because you don't know how to control it?"
"Talking to the dead isn't uncommon with witches," Amalia's shade replied, crossing her long legs. "But my daughter's abilities go far beyond that. She could summon anyone's shade she wished if she put her mind to it. She has a double dose because Mercury is also a psychopomp and connected to the dead. She could get all the ghosts in this place to rise up and do her bidding if she asks them."
"Mama! Don't tell him that," Marcella hissed, making her mother laugh.
"Why not? Look at him. He's not scared, are you, magician?"
Cosimo shook his head. "No,signora. In fact, I can teach Marcella exactly how to use and control her abilities. Of course, you were never going to be a normal sort of witch, Marcella. You've got the types of magic usually only magicians have. It's little wonder if Mercury, Hermes himself, is a patron of your family. Caterina having a grimoire and wanting the Medici one also makes a lot of sense now. Maybe she was struggling with this type of magic as well."
Marcella didn't know what to say or do, except open the bottle of wine she had brought with them and take a large swig.
"Hey, that's mine," Amalia teased her.
Marcella swallowed another mouthful before lowering the bottle. "You really aren't worried that I could command ghosts or use my gifts to charm anything I want from you?"
"Marcella," Cosimo said softly with a patient smile, "don't you know, I would give you whatever you wanted without you using any magic at all."
"Oh, I like this one,piccola. He's so handsome too. Unlike that piece of shit, Carlo. May his balls shrivel up and fall off," Amalia said and spat three times.
Cosimo laughed. "I offered to cut them off for her, but Marcella said no."
"No, you just went ahead and cut off his finger," Marcella huffed, feeling like they were already ganging up on her.
Amalia's eyes brightened. "Which finger?"
"His ring finger. He was wearing a ring on it and saying that he was still married to Marcella. I couldn't let that stand," Cosimo replied. "He was trying to use compulsion magic on her at the time too. Can you believe the audacity of the bastard?"
"Ah, you are a good man. I like you. You're going to be good for my stubborn daughter. She's always been worried about killing Carlo or Renata and having their ghosts haunt her?—"
"Mama! For fuck's sake, stop telling him everything!" Marcella cried in frustration and embarrassment.
"That's the reason?" Cosimo said, ignoring Marcella's outrage. "Tesoro, I just told you I have books and ways to teach you how to control your ability. If their ghosts turn up, Valentine will finally be able to use the spirit box he made. He will be delighted."
"You're impossible!" she said and swigged from the bottle again. "I don't want to kill anyone."
"You might have to," Amalia replied, her expression darkening. "Piccola, Renata is going too far. You always knew she would. That's why you did your best to hide from her and Carlo how good with the dead you were."
Marcella lowered the bottle. "What are you talking about, Mama?"
"Why do you think your father hasn't answered your call?" Amalia asked and pointed to the grave. "Matteo would always come to see you, if he could."
The wine churned up in Marcella's stomach. His grave had been disturbed, but she thought it had been animals. Marcella got down on her hands and knees and started clawing throughthe earth. It wasn't far down until her hands hit something sticky and wet.Blood.
"What is it? What has happened?" Cosimo asked, kneeling beside her.
"When did she do it?" Marcella demanded.
"A few days ago," Amalia said, her face clouded with anger.
"I bet it was when she asked us to come to Forli. That fucking bitch," Marcella snarled, her whole body shaking with anger that the earth under her responded to until the whole graveyard shuddered. Cosimo reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. It was warm and comforting, and it stopped the ground from shaking under them. "She has cursed and bound my father's shade. This is Renata's big card to use against me."
Marcella kept digging until she found a small cloth bag. Inside was a rolled-up piece of lead, paper-thin. She unrolled it and read it, fury making the ground shake again. Inside the bag was an old locket, a cutting of Renata's hair, and a dark curl tied with a red string.
"I didn't know she still had some of his hair from when they were children. I don't think Matteo suspected it either," Amalia said and gestured at the locket. "That was a gift from his family when she did her confirmation ceremony. She kept it all this time. So damn bitter that he chose me."
"How can I help?" Cosimo asked, taking the lead scroll from her. He read the words pressed into it, but not out loud. The words themselves were a curse. It bound the grave owner to the one who cast the curse, and whose hair was in the bag with it.
"I didn't think she had the knowledge or power to do something like this," Marcella said, passing the bag to Cosimo and standing up to pace.
