Starling (67 page)

stilted hug. Cass could feel the distance in her former handmaid’s
awkward embrace. She had come because she was a good person who
couldn’t abandon a friend, but part of her was still angry with Cass
for Siena’s death.
“You look dreadful,” Feliciana said. “Are you certain you’re not
ill?”
“I’m all right,” Cass insisted. “It’s just, I—I need your help to get
inside Palazzo Dubois. I know I said I wouldn’t ask you to risk yourself for me, but I need to find the Book of the Eternal Rose. It’s the
only way to put an end to the Order.”
Feliciana touched Cass’s forehead as if she thought she might be
delirious with fever. “Come with me. Let’s go someplace safe where
we can be alone and talk.”
“But where?” Cass said. No place felt safe anymore. Piero might
be lurking around any corner.
Feliciana glanced around furtively and then led Cass back
through the market. “We’ll get a gondola and go for a ride. We can
talk safely in the felze.”
The two girls stood at the edge of the Grand Canal. Boats floated
past, most filled with merchants returning home with unsold goods.
Finally an empty gondola approached. Feliciana whistled sharply
and waved a hand.
“I’ve no money for the fare,” Cass said as the boat approached.
This admission was enough to bring on another wave of tears.
Mannaggia.
What was wrong with her? Why was she crying now, after
Feliciana had come to help her?
Feliciana squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I have
money.”
The gondolier moored his boat and Cass stepped aboard. Feliciana lifted her skirt gracefully over the side and then gave the gondolier instructions. He grunted in response, turned the boat sharply,
and then headed south down the Grand Canal. The sun dipped low
behind them, bathing the city in a pinkish glow.
Cass and Feliciana huddled together in the felze. Feliciana drew
the blinds. “Why is it you’re not with Luca?” she asked.
“He—he left me.” Cass almost couldn’t bring herself to finish the
sentence. She hung her head, unable to meet Feliciana’s eyes.
“Oh Cassandra.” Feliciana patted her shoulder awkwardly, but
her voice was heavy with disappointment. “Was it because of Falco?”
“I can’t speak of this now,” Cass said. “I need to focus. Can you
get me into Palazzo Dubois or not?”
“Why are you so certain Joseph has your book?”
A gust of wind rattled the shades of the felze and caused the boat
to keen to one side. Behind Cass and Feliciana, the gondolier swore
under his breath and adjusted his position.
“I’m not certain, but . . .” Cass peered around the edge of the felze
at him. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I saw Cristian in Florence. At the time, I thought I imagined him. Now I’m wondering if
maybe Dubois sent him to Florence to steal the book.”
“But that would mean—”
“Cristian might have been at Villa Briani the same time I was convalescing there.”
“Do you really think Cristian is still working for Joseph?” Feliciana furrowed her brow, a mask of discomfort settling onto her pretty
face.
“I’m not sure,” Cass said. “Look. You said Dubois favors you. Do