City of Masks by Mary Hoffman Read Free Book Online Page A

officials.
    ‘Is that the Duchessa?’ Lucien asked.
    ‘She has come to inspect her new recruits,’ said Rodolfo. ‘She will wonder what has happened to you.’
    ‘Mirror, mirror, on the wall,’ said Lucien. Rodolfo looked at a loss.
    ‘Magic,’ said Lucien.
    ‘Not at all,’ said Rodolfo, with an expression of distaste. ‘Science.’
    ‘So that’s how you saw me,’ said Lucien. ‘But how did you know I was the person you were expecting? Is it because I don’t look Bellezzan?’
    Rodolfo scanned his face hard. ‘You really don’t know, do you?’ he said. ‘Come with me and I’ll show you something.’
    He strode over to the deep window, opened the casement and swung his long legs out over the sill. Lucien was startled until he realized there was some sort of roof garden outside. Rodolfo beckoned and the boy followed him out.
    It was an oasis in the heart of the city. But Lucien saw immediately that it took up more space than it should have done. It covered an area much larger than the roof of the building they were standing on. It stretched away into the distance and Lucien thought he could see peacocks at the far end.
    Huge pots held full-size trees and there were flowers everywhere, filling the air with their heavy scent. In the middle of the roof garden, a fountain played – more science, thought Lucien. Most of the garden was shaded and there was even a hammock slung between two orange trees, but close to the stone balustrade that enclosed it, the sun beat down on a tiled terrace.
    Rodolfo stood in the sunshine and waited for him. When Lucien came up to him, he took the boy gently by the shoulders and encouraged him to look down.
    ‘What do you see?’ he asked.
    Lucien looked first through the balustrade at the incredible beauty of Bellezza, its silver spires and bell-towers dazzling against the blue sky, but Rodolfo didn’t mean that. He directed Lucien’s gaze on to the tiles, with their intricate astronomical patterns. Just the sort of garden you’d expect a magician to have, thought Lucien.
    And then he saw what he was meant to see. At their feet stretched out the black silhouette of only one figure.
    ‘I have been waiting for someone without a shadow.’

Chapter 4
    The Stravaganti
    Time seemed to have stood still on the roof garden. Or at least slowed to a sluggish trickle. Lucien was still staring at where his shadow should have been. Rodolfo had gone back inside and now came out holding two glasses of a sparkling blond drink.
    ‘Prosecco,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a shock.’
    Lucien started to say he didn’t drink but then realized he was very thirsty and had no idea what the water was like in this city. Where he might be was one thing, but the time he was in was clearly not the twenty-first century and all the city’s beauty could not disguise the bad smell coming off the canals.
    He drank the prosecco. It was cold and a bit sharp and to Lucien quite wonderful. Alfredo, the old mandolier who had brought him from the Scuola, had followed Rodolfo out of the window, with the bottle in one hand and a tray in the other, laden with untidy ham sandwiches. Lucien discovered he was ravenous. When had his last meal been? Pastries in the café with Arianna? Or the few spoonfuls of scrambled egg he had managed to get down before bedtime in his other life?
    Whichever, it now seemed long ago and he had eaten three sandwiches and drunk two glasses of the sparkling wine before he asked Rodolfo any of the questions crowding his brain.
    The silver-haired scientist, or magician, or whatever he was, sat in companionable silence while Lucien finished his meal, though he ate nothing himself.
    ‘Feeling better?’ he now asked.
    ‘Yes, thanks,’ said Lucien. ‘Actually, I feel great.’
    He put his glass down on the terrace beside him and stretched, taking conscious note of how each limb, each muscle felt. There was no tiredness, no weakness, no aches. It might have just been the wine, but he felt