“It’s a celebration,” said Enrique.
“I wouldn’t know,” said Hypnos bitterly.
Enrique cleared his throat. “It all started in the twelfth century.”
“Here we go,” muttered Hypnos.
Zofia knew that others found Enrique long-winded, but she liked listening to him. Enrique saw the world differently, and sometimes when he taught her something new, it was as if the world had changed ever so slightly.
“It’s thought to have originated as a celebration over Venice’s enemy, the Aquileia,” said Enrique. “People used to gather in the streets wearing elaborate masks designed to disguise an individual’s class and rank, so that all might join in the revelries. Eventually it became part of the celebrations for Lent, but it was outlawed abouta hundred years ago by the Holy Roman Emperor, and so it can only be celebrated off-season and in secret, and the place to go is—”
“House Janus,” said Hypnos. “Though you need a special—”
“Mask,” finished Enrique.
He reached for the papers on the long table, holding up two illustrations of a Venetian mask. It had an odd design, the nose long and curved like a bird’s beak. The eyeholes were circular. The other sketch showed a checkered black-and-white mask outlined in glitter that would be held up by two long, black ribbons.
“Thisis how we find an invitation to House Janus’s Carnevale,” said Enrique. “Hypnos? Care to explain?”
“Supposedly, there is a place where one receives such invitation,” said Hypnos, picking at an invisible speck on his pants. “Amascherarisalon, I’m told. Inside, one may pick their specific mask, and when it is held to one’s face, it reveals the party’s location through mind Forging, and then you must go to said location in all your finery and drink and dance the night away etcetera etcetera.”
Zofia frowned. “That is too many instructions to attend a party.”
“I know,” sighed Hypnos. “It’s all so dreadfully enigmatic, I can’t help but be lured. Its exclusivity taunts me.”
“But you said Carnevale is two days from now,” said Laila, slowly turning the ring on her hand. “And we have no idea where to begin with finding thismascherarisalon.”
“No,” said Enrique, before he looked around the room. “But I think the information is hidden here. The matriarch told Hypnos that the safe house would have everything we need to find the map.”
“What about Séverin?” asked Hypnos.
Enrique’s mouth pinched. “What about him?”
“We were supposed to meet and figure out what to do next.How will he know what we’re doing if we don’t even know where to meet him?”
“Séverin needs to find the map for himself,” said Enrique, scowling. “He’ll do that with or without us, and our paths will either cross at Carnevale or in Poveglia. Trust me. He won’t miss the opportunity for a power grab.”
Hypnos frowned, but he stayed quiet. Zofia looked at Laila. Her friend seemed distant as she cradled her jeweled hand against her. The longer Zofia looked at her, the more she realized that she was not the only one stuck in the dark. Laila, for all her smiles, walked through it too. Séverin, wherever he was, had no idea that they had lost the meeting point. Hypnos’s expressions suggested confusion, and even Enrique’s plans carried much unknown.
In that second, Zofia remembered her mother sitting beside the fire. She had tilted up Zofia’s chin, her watery blue eyes shining.Be a light in this world, my Zosia, for it can be very dark.Zofia had not forgotten her mother’s words, and she was determined to embody them.
“We will find the map,” said Zofia. “Solving a problem requires a piece-by-piece approach, and that is what we are doing.”
Laila looked up at her, a soft smile curving her lips. Hypnos nodded. Even Enrique flashed a small smile. A rare feeling of calm centered Zofia. For her friends… for herself… Zofia would find a way out of the dark.
8
SÉVERIN
At dawn, Séverin stood by the docks and turned an apple over in his hand. In the astrology room at L’Eden, he had kept a bowl of apples on the low table. Once, early on, when Enrique had demanded food during the discussion of a new acquisition, Séverin gestured at the bowl of apples and said, “Help yourself.”
Enrique had looked appalled. “Apples are hopelessly boring, either too sweet or too sour.”
“It will satisfy your appetite for a time.”
“Orit shall tempt me to abandon this intellectual endeavor entirely in pursuit ofrealfood,” said Enrique. “It is the fruit of temptation, after all. Eve tempting Adam into sin and such.”
As if to demonstrate, Enrique had placed a red apple in his mouth and raised his eyebrows suggestively at Laila, Zofia, Tristan, and Séverin, who were seated across from him. Tristan grimaced. Laila bit back a laugh, and Zofia tilted her head to the side. “I saw a similar pose last night on the banquet table.”
