Ring of Fire by Pierdomenico Baccalario Read Free Book Online Page B

of the hotel’s shower caps, and he’s trying to convince the others to do the same.
    “You look crazy with that thing on,” Harvey remarks bluntly. After the explosion and the blackout, his mood has radically changed. He seems calmer, more self-confident.
    The kids reach Piazza in Piscinula, where groups of people are standing around talking about what’s happened. They light up their surroundings with their car headlights and point at the buildings shrouded in darkness. There are men and women laughing and others complaining. A bartender’s been unexpectedly leftwithout any music. A group of students have abandoned their backpacks in the snow to have a furious snowball fight. Elettra singles out two adults standing a bit off to the side and asks them what they know about the blackout.
    “The lights are out in Trastevere,” the woman replies. “And in the Parioli and Esquilino districts, too. But in some places, nothing happened.”
    “It’s all because of that blasted underpass,” grumbles the man, who then launches into a harsh assessment of the construction work being done. “Do you hear all that ruckus?” The kids listen and hear a constant, although distant, honking of horns. “Can you imagine what’s going on in the roads, with all this snow and the traffic lights not working?”
    Mistral dodges a snowball and packs one of her own, which she hurls randomly into the square. “Uh-oh. Bad idea,” remarks Harvey.
    “No, it isn’t! It’s a great idea!” cries out Sheng, standing beside Mistral. Soon they’ve started throwing and being hit by snowballs from every direction.
    Without the streetlights or neon signs, the old quarter of Rome is an incredible sight, with its labyrinth of cobblestone streets and sleepy buildings. “Want to go see what the Tiber looks like in the dark?” asks Elettra when there’s a lull in the snow ball fight.
    “Is it far from here?”
    “No. It’s right around the corner.”
    When they reach the river, the kids discover that the city’s practically been divided into two parts. One side is lit up, but the other is shrouded in a thick mantle of silent darkness. Leaningagainst the parapet of the Ponte Garibaldi, Harvey, Elettra, Mistral and Sheng look out at the quarter on the other side of the Tiber, where the lights are still shining.
    “So it isn’t a total blackout!” remarks Elettra, a little reassured.
    None of the others say a word. Admiring the glimmering reflection of the lights in the river and the lazy dance of the snowflakes, Mistral feels like she’s been swept up in a daydream. “What’s up there?” she asks, pointing over at Tiber Island, only half of which is lit up. It’s as though the island marks the dividing line between electric light and darkness.
    Elettra answers, “As far as I know, there’s Fatebenefratelli hospital, a restaurant, a couple of churches and—” She stops short.
    “What?”
    Elettra lets out a strange laugh. “A Madonna statue called Our Lady of the Lights.”
    “A fitting name, I’d say,” says Harvey. “Want to go take a look?”
    “Oh, we can’t. The Madonna’s inside the church, which is closed at night.”
    “I meant the island,” Harvey clarifies.
    “If you guys want to.”
    The four kids head toward the oldest bridge in the city, which makes its way over the Tiber like a long, dark shadow. When they reach it, Elettra says, “This bridge is called Ponte Quattro Capi. It’s named after a legend, naturally.”
    “What legend?”
    “Halfway across the bridge there are four heads. They say they’re the heads of the architects who built it. They were always arguing with each other, so they were beheaded once the workwas finished. But their heads were sculpted on the bridge so they’d always be united, at least when they were dead.”
    “How horrible!” gasps Mistral.
    “Actually, there are eight heads. Four plus four …” Elettra continues to explain as they make their way along the slippery,