Starling (81 page)

always believed that pledging herself to someone meant that other
men would cease to exist—that love was a wall that would keep out
the rest of the world. Maybe that was naïve. Maybe there would be
no wall unless she built it. Or maybe love wasn’t about barriers at all,
but rather about choices people made, giving up one thing to secure
another.
“It’s difficult to believe,” Falco murmured.
“What is?” Cass asked.
“That even damp, torn, and tangled you could still be so beautiful.”
Another smile played at her lips. “You and your sweet words,”
she said. “I’m sure I look dreadful.”
“Who’s there?” Minerva mumbled. “Who are you talking to?”
Falco recoiled slightly. Clearly he hadn’t realized that he and
Cass were not alone.
“She’s a courtesan,” Cass explained. “They’ve been stealing her
blood.”
Minerva grasped one of the bars and pulled herself to a sitting
position. Her dark hair was matted down on one side from where
she’d slept on it.
“Are you all right?” Cass asked. “I thought he’d taken too
much . . .”
“I’m so tired . . . but I heard voices,” Minerva said. “Or perhaps
I was dreaming . . .”
“No. You’re awake, but you should rest more,” Cass told her. “We
all should. I’ll tell you all about my friend here in the morning. The
three of us, together, can figure out a way to escape.”
Minerva smiled faintly. “Escape,” she murmured, to no one in
particular.
Cass lay back on the floor of the cell and wrapped her blanket
around herself. They hadn’t even given Falco a blanket. “Do you
want my cloak?” she offered.
“You keep it,” he said. “I doubt I’ll be able to get much sleep anyway.”
“Tomorrow we escape,” Minerva said. Her voice sounded
dreamy and hopeful.
Cass thought once again of breaking Luca out of his watery prison
in the Palazzo Ducale. She would figure out a way to escape Belladonna. She just had to remain calm and wait for the right opportunity. She envisioned herself with the guard’s keys, freeing Falco and
Minerva. She saw the three of them running for the front door of the
workshop, escaping out into the warm summer air. The image comforted her. She held fast to it as she went to sleep.

She awoke to heavy footsteps and loud voices. As she rubbed the
sleep from her eyes, she saw Belladonna standing outside the cells,
her arms folded across her chest, her face a mask of pain.

Piero stood next to her, his dark hair tucked back behind his ears.
He looked almost gleeful as he began detailing Falco’s betrayal.
“When I first heard the noise, I figured it was a rat or a leper pawing
through a trash heap in the alley.” He gave Falco an appraising look
as if to indicate his assessment had been mostly correct.

Belladonna’s eyes narrowed almost to slits as Piero continued. “I
heard the sound again, coming from one of the rooms at the front of
the workshop. When I went to investigate, I saw Falco had pulled the
boards away from the window and broken the glass. I watched him