Starling (64 page)

ladonna believed, but was he so loyal to Dubois that he would die to
protect it? Cass also recalled seeing a flash of a figure whom she
thought was Cristian. At the time she had discounted it as her imagination, but Cristian had clearly possessed the book at some point
and removed the page with Cass’s family name on it. Perhaps the
entire book was hidden somewhere at Palazzo Viaro and she’d simply missed it during her initial break-in.

However, both Cristian and Angelo had worked for Dubois. The
more Cass considered things, the more it seemed likely Joseph Dubois had the book and was lying to Belladonna about it. But Palazzo
Dubois was an enormous, well-guarded estate. She couldn’t just
saunter in and begin searching. She needed a way to sneak into the
palazzo. She needed an idea of where Joseph Dubois might keep the
book. She needed to proceed calmly and carefully for once, instead
of letting her emotions lead her wildly into trouble.

There was only one person she knew who
might
be able to help
her out with that: Feliciana. Apparently, Dubois favored her.
Joseph,
Cass thought scornfully. Clearly, Feliciana had gotten pretty comfortable with Dubois, and comfortable men told tales.

But since Cass could not risk seeking out Feliciana, she was going
to have to find a way to make Feliciana come to her. She had an idea,
but she needed a little help to make it work. Hopping to her feet, she
stretched her aching muscles once more and then headed toward the
Ghetto gates.

They were open and the guards were gone.
The main street of the Ghetto was empty, save for a man who had
come back from emptying his chamber pots in the canal. Keeping her
hood low over her face, Cass hurried over to him. He was elderly,
with a long black beard that tapered into a point and a heavy brow
that sank forward, obscuring part of his eyes.
“Excuse me,” she said timidly. “But do you have a bit of ink and
parchment so that I might send a message?”
The man frowned, as if he didn’t understand her words. “Letter.”
She pantomimed writing a message.
He nodded in understanding and gestured for Cass to follow him.
She did so, waiting patiently as he unlocked a gray stucco building
with wisps of ivy crawling up the front of it. They ascended a set of
narrow stairs to a cramped room that had only a table and two chairs
inside of it. The man gestured for Cass to sit and brought her ink, a
quill, and a sheet of parchment.
“
Grazie,
” she said.
The man bowed slightly and then disappeared into the next room.
Cass heard him humming to himself and the occasional clanging of
pots and pans as he puttered around. Hurriedly, she began scrawling
a message to Feliciana.
I need you to meet me . . .
She paused. How long would it take her to find a messenger? How
long would it take for the messenger to deliver the message and Feliciana to receive it? She decided to err on the side of too much time.
at sunset . . .
She stopped again. Feliciana was going to need someone to read
the message for her. Cass needed to be very careful about what she
wrote.
. . . in the place where your sister and I found you. Please come. I
wouldn’t ask if I didn’t desperately need your help.
Feliciana had fled Joseph Dubois’s estate after his favorite maid