Lots of it.
Ravenna held up the Nightflame to her Pluto. If she used it, theneveryonein Volterra would know she could hold hellfire in her hands. They would come for Ravenna with pitchforks. And that was just with her ability to bear the heat of the Nightflame. If they ever found out about her other magic, hiding deep under her bones, they would tie her to a stake and laugh when the flames consumed her.
She bit her lip, considering.
If she carved a place for the Nightflame, the Luni famiglia would notice and approve of her choice. They might pick her.
But if they didn’t… then her life in Volterra was over.
Ravenna closed her eyes, the weight of her decision pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe. She cleared her mind, letting the quiet of the studio soothe her thoughts. When she opened her eyes again, she knew what to do. She walked to the worktable, picked up one of her charcoal pencils, and marked the spot where she’d place the Nightflame. A place where Pluto’s heart might be, the flame flickering under his collarbones. The blue stone would be a sharp contrast to the pure white marble, creating a unique and wholly unexpected work of art.
A work of art that might win.
Or seal her fate.
Capitolo Tre
Ravenna loaded Pluto into her cart as morning light spilled across the golden stones of the inn. Her parents could not believe their sensible daughter intended on competing. But no amount of yelling, pleading, or begging could change Ravenna’s mind. She felt the weight of their gaze at her back; worried and desperate to talk to her.
She was sorry for that. But it had to be done.
She draped a cloth over her work, bracing herself for the conversation with her parents, but the sound of a baby’s happy shriek cut through her thoughts. Ravenna turned away from the inn, shielding her eyes against the rising sun. Maria, her oldest and dearest friend in the whole world, led her young son up the path, his little hand grasped in hers as he tried to tug free. She wore the look of a young mother: exhausted, exasperated, but her eyes held a quiet love that glowed whenever she glanced down at her son.
Ravenna slipped her hand inside her apron and pulled out an almond biscuit. “Buongiorno, Francesco.”
The child let out another shriek, pulling free, and toddled his way over to her. He snatched the biscuit, promptly dropped onto the dirt, and then stuffed the whole thing into his mouth.
“You’d think I never feed him,” Maria said dryly.
Ravenna glanced at her friend, noting the tired line of her drooping shoulders. Maria’s dark skin seemed to stretch over her bones too thinly.
“Haveyoueaten?” Ravenna asked. “Come, let’s go inside. The bread is fresh out of the oven.”
Maria nodded absently, one eye on her son. “That’s not why I’ve come.”
Ravenna smiled, knowing the answer but asking it anyway. “Which twin told you?”
“Stefano, of course. He came earlier this morning, spinning tales about a competition and how you were up all night sculpting while your mother was up all night crying.” Maria gave her a baffled look. “Is it true?”
Ravenna let out a tired sigh. “Yes.”
“Do you have to participate?” Maria demanded. “Is there—”
“I have to,” Ravenna said. “And if things don’t go my way, my parents will need you here.”
Maria’s lips pinched with concern. “Lord knows how I would have survived without your family, of course they can depend on me.” She bit her lip, considering. “But you saw what it did to me when I lost Francesco. Think of what it will do to your parents to lose two of their children.”
Guilt crowded Ravenna. Her best friend had lost her husband in the battle, and ever since, Maria spent most of her time at the inn, helping where she could, raising her son away from the home that held painful memories. “I have to try.”
Maria nodded, accepting her words like she’d accepted her secret all those years ago.
“You know I had to ask.” Maria glanced over Ravenna’s shoulder. “Your parents are watching us from the window.”
Ravenna turned around in time to see her parents dart out of sight.
“Go speak with them,” Maria whispered. “I’ll take him to see the cows and when it’s safe to come inside, we’ll do so.”
Ravenna rolled her eyes as she retrieved another biscuit from within her apron and handed it to Maria. “This one’s for you.”
