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Authors: Imogen Rossi

BOOK: The Dark City
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Chapter Twenty

Her mother looked almost exactly like Edita. Her wrinkles were a little more pronounced and her eyes were blue, and her hair was messier and streaked with grey. Bianca could see that her cell was far more comfortable than her one – with a real bed and several layers of thick blankets and soft-looking pillows, as well as a chest of drawers and a mirror.

‘Oh!' Saralinda gasped as she caught sight of Bianca. ‘It is really you!'

Bianca nodded, frozen in the doorway, suddenly shy. But then Saralinda stepped forward and enveloped her in a hug. Bianca shut her eyes and tried to let the feeling wash over her. But it was hard not to remember the way Edita had put her arm around her and kissed her forehead, and how it had felt pretty much like the real thing  … 

Then Saralinda pulled away and wiped a tear from her cheek. She looked at Marco. ‘And who is this?'

‘This is Marco. My friend. My best friend in the world,
ever
!' Bianca amended, after a glare from Marco. ‘He rescued me from my cell.'

Marco grinned shyly.

‘Any friend of my daughter's is a friend of mine,' the Duchess said, smiling a wide, welcoming smile. She turned back to Bianca. ‘This is  …  I can't believe you're really here! Oh, how did she find you? I sent you away so you'd be safe! Father closed the portals so that she couldn't get to you!'

‘I came looking for you,' Bianca said.

‘Where is your grandfather?'

Bianca swallowed. ‘He died,' she said.

There was another pause, and a few short gasps of breath. Then her mother said, in a low, steady voice, ‘Tell me what happened. Tell me everything.'

Bianca wished she could tell her mother everything she'd ever done, everything she'd ever heard or seen. Instead, she tried to keep her story short. Saralinda stayed quiet for most of it, but when Bianca mentioned di Lombardi's paintbrush key she gasped.

‘That's how you got into Oscurita. And how you got into my cell?'

Bianca nodded before filling in the rest of the story: di Lombardi's will, the
storia
, the map, and the terrible mistake she'd made, assuming that Edita was her mother and believing that the Baron and Filpepi had imprisoned her in her own dungeon.

‘I'm sorry,' she muttered. ‘I was so stupid.'

‘No!' said Saralinda. ‘Believe me, Edita has tricked us all. But we have to get out of here. The Duke of La Luminosa has no idea she's coming, and if we don't warn him she'll run right over him.'

‘The
Duchess
of La Luminosa,' Bianca corrected. ‘The Duke died a few years ago. His daughter Catriona's on the throne now.'

‘Oh! Really?' Saralinda said. ‘That's very sad. The Duke was a good man.'

‘You knew him?'

‘We met, once.'

‘Well, his daughter is a great Duchess,' Bianca sighed. ‘I can't believe I've done this to her. She's a good friend too.'

‘All right,' Saralinda said, a look of steely resolve hardening her features. ‘We have to get you back to La Luminosa before the portals finish opening.'

‘We need a painting,' said Marco.

‘We could try to make it back to the painting in my drawing room,' Bianca suggested. ‘Or maybe I could open any painting in the castle?'

‘There are guards on the tower, and the courtyard's swarming with soldiers,' Marco said. ‘I don't think we'd get very far.'

‘Well, we don't have any other options,' Bianca shrugged.

‘You said Father trained you as his apprentice?' Saralinda said. ‘Do you think you could paint your way back to La Luminosa?'

‘Maybe.' Bianca's hand strayed into her pocket and she pulled out the
lux aurumque
flower. ‘I  …  yes. I think so. But I'd need, well, paint!'

Saralinda smiled and turned to her desk. She moved aside some of the papers, and Bianca realised they weren't letters or documents – they were watercolour paintings. Saralinda held out a wooden tray subdivided into sixteen small sections, each holding a small piece of watercolour paint.

‘Will this do?' she asked.

Bianca took a deep breath.

‘I think it might!' She took the tray and turned to the wall. Saralinda brought her a small jug of water and Bianca swallowed, holding the paintbrush poised over the water. ‘I've never made a magic painting from scratch,' she admitted. ‘I've only converted ones that di Lombardi started. I don't know if there's something special he did  … '

‘Don't panic,' said Saralinda. She laid her hands on Bianca's shoulders and Bianca felt herself relax. ‘Just do your best.'

Bianca took a deep breath, dipped her paintbrush into the water and then took a heavy brushful of paint. There wasn't much in the tray. Almost at once Bianca started to worry that she'd run out before she could even paint a picture of a door, let alone make it open. But she kept painting, sketching in the general shape and trying to pick the places that needed heavy colour with care so that she wouldn't use up all the precious paint  … 

‘How come Edita lets you have all this stuff?' Marco asked Saralinda, behind Bianca.

‘Being the rightful Duchess has its benefits, even in prison,' said Bianca's mother. ‘Not all of Edita's guards are quite as loyal to her as she likes to think. Most of them are willing to hedge their bets by being kind to me, just in case I do take back the throne.'

Bianca washed the paint from her brush and took a step back.

‘What do you think?' she asked.

‘Oh! It's amazing,' said Saralinda.

‘It looks really real!' Marco said. ‘Let's get it open!'

‘Yep,' said Bianca. ‘That's the next step all right.'

‘You're not sure how, are you?' asked Marco.

Bianca chewed her thumb. ‘I  …  I have an idea. But if it doesn't work, I don't know what I'm going to do.'

‘Well, we'll just have to fight our way out past the guards and the soldiers. With our amazing fighting powers,' said Marco. ‘Or invent a pair of wings that'll let us jump out of the window and glide to the ground.'

‘Heh.' Bianca smiled, feeling her heart lighten a bit. ‘Actually, that doesn't sound like a terrible backup plan.'

‘Oh yes, it does,' said Marco. ‘I might have managed to climb up but I don't think I'm quite up to jumping down!'

‘Well, then, you'd better pray this works,' Bianca said.

She pulled the
lux aurumque
flower out of her pocket and one by one picked the last remaining petals from it and crushed them between her fingertips, squeezing their magical golden oil into the jug of water. By the time she'd finished it was glowing and swirling in the jug. She held the jug close to her face and closed her eyes.

‘All right. Let's see.' She tried to dig deep inside herself, to find the right magic words, and the words seemed to well up inside her. ‘
Lux aurumque  … 
please open the way,'
she whispered. ‘
Dolce casa, bella casa.
Bring us home
.
'

She dipped her brush into the mixture and paused, the brush held in the air, for a second. Then she began to paint, and where she painted, the door solidified. The handle popped out of the wall and the hinges dug in. All the way around the edge of the door, a gap opened up, as if there really was something behind it. Finally, Bianca filled in the dark recesses of the lock, and her paintbrush vanished several centimetres into the wall.

She turned the brush around and fitted the key end into the lock. It turned, and the door swung open. Bianca let out a happy, exhausted groan at the sight of the familiar paint-speckled passages on the other side.

She'd done it. She'd made her own doorway from scratch.

‘Let's go!' She stepped through, and Marco followed her. But when Bianca turned back, she realised her mother wasn't following. ‘Mother?' she asked, walking back into the cell.

Saralinda smiled and clasped her hands over her chest. ‘Oh, Bianca! You really have inherited your grandfather's talent. Far more than I ever did! I'm so glad.' She hugged Bianca again.

Grandfather
, Bianca thought.
Am I really the great Annunzio di Lombardi's granddaughter?
She felt as if she might burst with pride.

Then Saralinda pulled away. ‘And now you two must get going.'

‘But you have to come! I can't leave you here with Edita.'

‘Oh don't worry about me,' said Saralinda. ‘I have to stay in Oscurita. The Resistance will be waiting for me to contact them – and I can't live in La Luminosa. It's just like Marco here and Oscurita. Some of us just can't cope with the light – or the darkness. Not even  …  not even for love,' she added softly, reaching out a hand and tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind Bianca's ear.

Bianca's heart skipped a beat. ‘Do you  …  mean my father?' she asked. ‘Was he from La Luminosa?'

‘He was,' said Saralinda. ‘But there's no time for this – you must go, and warn the young Duchess that Edita is coming. We'll see each other again soon, I promise, and I'll tell you all about him. For now, know that he was a wonderful man, a hero, and he would have loved you dearly. Now go on! We'll meet again.'

Bianca stepped back into the passages, and she and Marco waved to Saralinda. Then Saralinda slowly closed the painted door, leaving them alone.

Marco looked at Bianca. ‘Are you OK? That was a bit intense.'

Bianca sucked in a long breath. ‘I  …  have got a city to save!' she said firmly. ‘Come on!'

Chapter Twenty-one

Bianca and Marco sprinted along the passageways, glancing at the doors they passed. Bianca gritted her teeth in frustration. They could get back into La Luminosa through any one of them, but it wouldn't do them any good to run out into a random city square or someone's house and start shouting about an invasion – they had to get to the palace and warn the Duchess.

‘Hey, Bianca,' Marco panted.

‘What?' Bianca asked.

‘It worked!' He grinned at her as they swung around a corner. ‘You painted a magic door! How does it feel to be the true heir of Master di Lombardi?'

‘It'd feel a lot better if my crazy aunt wasn't mustering an invasion force right now,' Bianca said, but she grinned back.

Suddenly Bianca skidded to a halt, staring at one of the doors.

‘Marco!' she yelled after him.

Marco doubled back, panting. ‘What?'

‘This is a painting that's in Filpepi's house! We can get the other apprentices to help us!' She threw open the door and jumped out without looking to see if Marco was following. She landed with a thud on the black-and-white tiled floor in Filpepi's hall.

She picked herself up and glanced around at the paintings that lined the walls.

‘They seem normal,' she gasped.

Marco climbed out of the painting, shutting the door behind him. ‘No sign of pulsating,' he said. Bianca glanced up at him. ‘I saw it when I was sneaking into the castle. The paintings all looked like they were bleeding.' He shuddered. ‘Too weird.'

‘Maybe we still have some time.' Bianca wrung her hands, half nervous and half praying. ‘We have to find the others.'

Marco held up his hand. ‘Hear that?'

‘
 …  still say  …  shouldn't have let her go
 … '

The sound of squabbling – wonderful, ordinary apprentice squabbling – was coming from the studio. Bianca ran over to the doors and threw them open. The apprentices were all there, either painting, sculpting or sketching – though Rosa was standing with her arms crossed, eyeballing Cosimo and Lucia. She looked up as Bianca burst through the doors.

‘Bianca! We're so glad you came back,' she said. ‘Aren't we?'

‘Of course we are,' Cosimo said, with a slightly pointed glance at Lucia.

‘Yes,' Lucia sighed. ‘Of course.'

‘Thank you,' said Bianca. ‘But there's something very important I have to tell you, and you have to believe me, because I don't have time to argue about it.'

‘What on earth are you wearing?' Gabriella sneered. ‘You look like a nun.'

Bianca's hands strayed to the pockets of her black coat and the purple scarf that was still wrapped loosely around her head.

Then she straightened her back and gave Gabriella a small smile.
I look like an Oscuritan princess
, she thought. She explained about Oscurita and Edita and Saralinda and the medallion as quickly as she could.

‘Someone call a doctor,' agreed Gabriella. ‘She's actually gone completely mental. Being our master's not good enough, now she's a princess as well!'

But Lucia's jaw had dropped and her skin had turned slightly yellow. ‘Duchess Edita? Oscurita?' she said weakly. All the apprentices turned to her and she swallowed. ‘I  …  I used to work late sometimes, when Filpepi was still in charge. I used to hear him talking to the Baron. They often mentioned Duchess Edita. Sometimes he said  …  he missed Oscurita. I just assumed they were talking in code or something.'

There was a shocked silence as this sank in.

‘Edita is real,' Bianca said. ‘And she's coming.
Now
.'

‘But  …  an
invasion
?' Sebastiano gasped. ‘We haven't been at war for a hundred years! What are we going to do?'

Domenico side-stepped over to him and their hands snaked together. ‘How can we help?'

‘We have to tell the Duchess,' said Cosimo. ‘If this is really happening, we've got to raise the alarm.'

‘Marco, can you stay here and find those notebooks?' Bianca asked. ‘There might be something else in them that can help us. Some kind of  …  I don't know. Defensive magic, or a trick we could use.'

‘I'll help,' said Lucia. ‘I've been working on the notebooks since Marco brought them to us.'

Bianca took a deep breath and swallowed her desire to tell her not to touch her grandfather's notebooks.
She nodded. ‘Good. Get everybody making anything that looks useful, and we'll go to the palace.'

‘Maybe some of di Lombardi's inventions would help,' Marco suggested. He met Bianca's eyes and raised an eyebrow.

‘Good idea,' said Cosimo. ‘Sebastiano, Domenico, run back to di Lombardi's house and search it for anything useful we might have left behind. Now we need to get going,' he said, running over to Bianca and patting her on the shoulder. ‘If we're going to get to the palace on foot before this invasion begins –'

‘Wait!' Bianca said. She took the paintbrush key from her pocket and held it up.

‘What's that?' Rosa asked. ‘Is it a paintbrush? Or a key?'

Bianca walked over to the closest painting with a door – a painting of the grand ballroom in the palace. She climbed up into it and stood at the edge of the magical space, the animated figures waltzing and spinning behind her.

‘I wanted to keep this for myself. But that was really selfish of me.' She met Marco's eyes and then looked away again. ‘I just wanted to be special. Well, I was Mistress Bianca briefly, and that was pretty horrible, and apparently now I'm a princess, and that hasn't been a bundle of laughs either. I think maybe “special” is overrated.'

‘Bianca, what are you saying?' Rosa asked gently.

Bianca shook herself. ‘I'm saying  …  this.' She turned and put the key into the door at the side of the painting and it swung open.

The apprentices gathered around the painting, gazing in wonder at the torchlit passageway beyond.

‘These passages link all of Master di Lombardi's paintings, all over the city. We can get to the palace quicker this way.' She reached out and Cosimo took her hand to let her help him up into the painting. Bianca held the door open and then turned, caught Domenico's eye and tossed the paintbrush key to him. His jaw dropped, but he caught it and held it gingerly, as if it might bite him. ‘Marco, take Domenico and Sebastiano to Master di Lombardi's secret workshop,' she said.

‘Will do, Your Highness,' said Marco, and winked at Bianca.

Bianca smiled at the other apprentices as they gaped at her. ‘I'm glad I've told you all. This is too important for secrets – we have to work together to save La Luminosa!'

‘Oh!' Duchess Catriona slapped the arms of the throne and jumped to her feet in a very unladylike manner. ‘Bianca, what are you doing now?'

Everyone in the throne room gaped in surprise as Bianca and Cosimo climbed out through an open door in one of the paintings on the wall.

‘I swear by my crown, Bianca,' Catriona yelled, her face so red her freckles completely vanished. ‘If you don't explain yourself
right now
I shall tell Captain Raphaeli to get out the head spikes. You know he'll obey me!'

Bianca glanced at Captain Raphaeli, standing by the side of the throne, and caught his shoulders sagging in a long-suffering sigh.

‘Duchess.' Cosimo led Bianca through the crowd of courtiers and gave Catriona a low bow as they approached the throne. ‘I'm sorry to burst in on you like this. But Bianca has a very good reason for the way she's been behaving recently.'

Oh thanks
,
Bianca thought – but it seemed to have worked on Catriona. She plonked herself back on the throne in a ballooning rustle of silk.

‘I'm listening. This had better be very, very good.'

Bianca launched into her tale. Catriona deserved the fullest version of the story but there wasn't time. When she came to the point where she had to claim to be royalty, the daughter of the rightful Duchess of Oscurita, there were titters of dismissive laughter from the crowd. Bianca saw Captain Raphaeli's fist clench on the hilt of his sword.

But Duchess Catriona listened seriously and calmly as Bianca finished her story, and then got majestically to her feet.

‘Bianca, I know you would never lie to me,' she said, raising her voice so that everyone in the throne room would hear her. ‘But an invasion, Bianca? Are you sure?'

Bianca opened her mouth to speak, but then one of the courtiers let out a shriek. ‘The paintings!' he gasped. ‘Look at the paintings!'

Bianca turned, though she knew exactly what she'd see. The colours were glowing and pulsating, as if each painting had a heart pounding behind its canvas. Streams of translucent reds and greens and blues and whites and golds pumped from the surface of each picture with every heartbeat.

‘It's happening,' she said.

Duchess Catriona stepped close to Bianca and spoke, lowering her voice so that only Bianca could hear. ‘Well, Lady Bianca! So you are following in your grandfather's footsteps after all. My royal artist  …  and loyal defender and spy.'

‘I'll always be your defender, Your Highness,' Bianca said.

Duchess Catriona squeezed her hand and then raised her voice so that it filled the throne room. Bianca could almost imagine it ringing from the rooftops of La Luminosa.

‘Captain Raphaeli, call your forces together. We must prepare for war.'

Bianca raised her head and squared her shoulders. She was ready to fight. Oscurita was in her blood, but La Luminosa was her home too, and she wasn't going to let Edita take either one from her.

I'll save them both.

I'm ready.

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