Color Song (A Passion Blue Novel) by Victoria Strauss Read Free Book Online Page B

when the Maestra’s book of secrets was stolen—”
    “Be silent!” Madre Magdalena stepped forward and slapped Giulia hard across the face. “You will be fetched at noon on Friday. If I learn that you have shown Signor Moretti anything but the greatest humility and gratitude, you will have cause to regret it. Now get out. I shall expect soon to hear from Maestra Domenica that you have done your duty.”
    Clutching her throbbing cheek, Giulia fled.
    —
    Giulia returned to the workshop. She tried her best to hide her distress. But when Domenica decided that the quills she’d justsharpened were not satisfactory and ordered her to recut them all, she startled herself and everyone else by bursting into tears.
    “Go into the courtyard and compose yourself,” Domenica snapped. “And don’t come in until I summon you.”
    Domenica did not call Giulia back, and she sat on the edge of the fountain for the rest of the afternoon. She was aware of the sympathetic glances of the other painters, but no one was brave enough to intercede.
    At last the bell rang for Vespers, and the workshop emptied. Giulia hurried inside and stood over one of the braziers, trying to get warm. Her teeth were still chattering as she began the nightly ritual of putting away the artists’ materials. Everything she touched seemed to be made of lead. The very air weighed on her. She wanted to fall to the floor and howl with desperation and despair.
    The bell was tolling Angelus when Angela appeared, her pretty face determined.
    “Sit down this instant,” she commanded, “and tell me what’s wrong.”
    “Oh, Angela, it’s just . . . Domenica, you know. I’m tired today, and those quills . . . it was too much.”
    “No.” Angela shook her head. “There is something you’re not telling me. I can see it, Giulia. Don’t pretend, not with me.”
    Giulia hesitated, but only for a moment. She let it all pour out: Humilità, Passion blue, Domenica’s ultimatum, Madre Magdalena’s order. After so many days of keeping the truth to herself, it was an incredible relief to share it.
    Angela listened without interrupting.
    “So,” she said at last. They were sitting side by side at the drafting table. The curtains were still open, and candle flames dipped and swayed in the drafts from the courtyard. “You lied to me about Passion blue.”
    “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I wanted to, but then Domenica threatened me. I didn’t know what to do.”
    “Domenica’s behavior is disgraceful. Still . . . Giulia, I can understand why she’s angry. She must feel terribly slighted.”
    “That is not my fault.” Someone had left a pot of pigment open—azurite, Giulia could tell from its song, like a silver hammer tapping against a cymbal. She reached for it and corked it, silencing it.
    “I know. But Giulia, there is something to what she says. Maestra Humilità created Passion blue. She had the right to keep it for herself. But she’s gone now, and we must carry on her legacy, all of us together. I don’t want to say she was wrong in giving it to you, but I think it was . . . unfair. Passion blue should belong to the workshop, not to one person.”
    “But that’s not why Domenica wants it.” The blood was hot in Giulia’s cheeks. She had expected Angela to understand. “I think she wants it for herself. And I’m afraid . . . I’m afraid that if I give it to her, she’ll dismiss me anyway.”
    “No, Giulia. I know there is no love between the two of you, but you can’t think she would be so base.”
    “Angela, Domenica
despises
me. She called me a whore. She accused me of lying to the Maestra on her deathbed in order to get my hands on Passion blue. She said the Maestra should never have let me back into the workshop.”
    Angela stared at her. “She said that?”
    “That and more.” Giulia realized she was still clutching the pigment pot. She loosened her fingers and put it down. “Even if she allows me to stay, Madre