Starling (16 page)

he kitchen was dark except for the slice of light that
penetrated the broken shutter, illuminating the rough
outline of an iron spit, a butter churn, and a long table.
The dust was so thick that Cass could trace lines in it
with her fingertips. The cupboards hung open, empty aside from a

sparse collection of chipped dishware and a scattering of utensils.
She found a paring knife and tucked it into her pocket. It was paltry
as weapons went, but if she stumbled across Belladonna or Piero,
they would not expect her to be armed. She didn’t know if she could
really stab anyone—the mere thought of it, the blade piercing skin,
the softness of organs beneath—made her cringe. But who knew what
she might be capable of if her life depended on it? After all, a couple
of months ago she would have thought herself incapable of penetrating the Doge’s dungeons and rescuing Luca, but she had managed to
do exactly that.

hint of incense. Her body went rigid. The last time she had smelled
incense, Belladonna had been bathing in human blood. Cass curled
her fingers around the handle of the small knife.

Servants’ stairs led from the kitchen up to the dining room, also
buried under a layer of grime. Next was the portego. Its walls were
stark white, and she could see faint outlines where large canvases had
once hung. Marble steps sloped both up and down in a graceful spiral. Several rectangular recesses were cut in one wall, most likely
used at one time to display Viaro family heirlooms. The only furniture left in the room was a single padded chair that sat close to the
fireplace. Cass crossed the room and examined the chair. The blue
upholstery was ripping in places, feathers used for stuffing spilling
out through the tears.

She turned toward the back of the palazzo where she knew the
master bedroom would be, but then she noticed something odd
about the staircase. The handrail was covered in an even coat of
grime, but the dust on the steps themselves had been disturbed—
there were long bands of clear areas, as if someone had tried to hide
footprints by dragging a boot or a cloth back and forth.

Someone had been on the third level recently.
Cass glanced up into the darkness as she craned her ears for the
sound of any movement above her. Nothing. Relaxing her right
hand, she shook out her fingers and then curled the knife back into
her grip.
Slowly she ascended the staircase.
The scent of incense was stronger here. She paused on the landing, again listening for the slightest indication that she was not alone.
The third floor ceiling was low, the corridor narrow. Wooden doors
huddled close together. This was where the Viaro servants once
lived.
Dusty footprints led down the dark hallway. Tentatively, Cass
crept forward, trying to keep her own shoes tucked inside the prints
made by others. She pushed open the first door and squinted in the
dim light. The room was empty except for a bed, its sheets tucked
neatly around the frame. She tried the second room. Another bed.
She paused with her hand on the handle of the third door. The scent
of incense was so powerful here that Cass almost turned and fled.
But when she opened the door, this room, too, was empty. The
bed was different, however, the sheets mussed, a blown-glass goblet
lying on its side on one of the pillows. Stepping boldly over to the
bed, Cass yanked back the sheets. She looked beneath each pillow.
A trail of reddish brown stained the linens on one side of the bed.
Blood.
She pulled the sheets back up to cover the spot and then knelt by
the bed and peered into the darkness beneath. Nothing but tangles
of dust. Another goblet sat upright on the floor on the far side of the
bed, still partially full of liquid. Cass went to sniff at the glass but
recoiled when she realized several drowned flies floated on the surface of the fluid.
With her stomach churning, she headed back out into the corridor
and finished checking the other three rooms. They were all the same.
Barren. Undisturbed.
Frustrated, Cass descended the stairs all the way to the lower
level. For a moment, she looked longingly at the front door. The
dust, the darkness of Palazzo Viaro was beginning to overcome her.
But it made sense to search the entire place while she was here. She