The Painted War (11 page)

‘All right, what about the normal paint?' Marco suggested. ‘The non-magic stuff that the Captain's been using on the murals?'

Captain Raphaeli ordered a guard to fetch the paint, and Bianca made a face as it was placed on the table beside the medallion. She didn't want to touch the stuff, knowing what damage it had done – but this was too important for her to let her resentments stop her. She dipped Master di Lombardi's brush in the thick, black paint – sending up an apology for the insult – and painted over the top of the engraving.

Everybody turned and watched the water trickling from the mural. The servant kept mopping, his eyes fixed on the gap under the door to the balcony. The water didn't stop. In fact, to the servant's obvious dismay, it seemed to flow a little bit faster.

Bianca looked down at the medallion, and found that the black paint had run off the disc and onto the table. Not a drop of it had managed to stick, even though when she touched the engraving it was perfectly dry.

‘What do we do now?' she asked.

‘We must remove the disc to a safe place and keep studying it carefully,' said Secretary Franco. ‘
Much
was risked to bring it out of the canal,' he added, shooting a disapproving glare at Duchess Catriona. He had already made his feelings about the Duchess's trip in the underwater craft very clear, but Bianca could tell he wasn't planning to stop rebuking her for it any time soon. ‘It's obviously of foreign make, even if it isn't actually the cause of the flooding. It may not be doing anything at all.'

Duchess Catriona suddenly leapt to her feet in a rustle of damp red silk.

‘Well, there's one way to find out for certain,' she said. She walked over to the fireplace and grabbed the iron poker from its holder beside the grate.

‘Your Highness, stop!' Secretary Franco called out, but it was too late – Duchess Catriona strode back to the small table, raised the poker and brought it down point-first in the centre of the medallion. The disc cracked and there was a noise like breaking glass. Duchess Catriona brought the poker down on the disc again and again, until it lay in pieces in a pile of its own dust.

Bianca stared at her, impressed and fascinated and trying to suppress a grin, until finally the Duchess lowered the poker and stepped back, breathing heavily.

‘It's stopped!' said a voice. Everyone turned to look at the servant, who was standing, leaning on his mop with a broad grin on his face. There was no more water trickling from the painted door. He swept up the last of the water and no more pooled at the base of the wall. ‘Bless you, Milady, you stopped the flood!'

Duchess Catriona dropped the poker onto the table with a clang and gave Secretary Franco a polite and slightly exhausted smile. ‘My Lord, I respect your counsel greatly,' she said. ‘But sometimes a Duchess just has to
do something
.'

Bianca caught Marco's eye, and then looked away again quickly, in serious danger of collapsing with helpless laughter.

A few seconds later, Bianca heard a voice in the corridor let out a shout of happiness. The servant with the mop ran out and she heard him shout, ‘It was the Duchess! She stopped the flooding!'

Bianca grinned and bobbed a damp curtsey to Duchess Catriona, then ran to the window. She could just about see over the walls to the bridge, and though she couldn't see the paintings clearly, there was a definite ripple of astonishment through the people on the bridge as they noticed that the flood had stopped. An excited chatter went up from the guards, and then they joined in the cheer, ‘God bless the Duchess. God save La Luminosa!'

It seemed to echo across the whole city. Bianca was certain she could hear a roar of happiness from the streets across the canal. Had the whole city been awake and bailing out their homes and squares? A second later, bells started to ring from the Church of San Fernando, and other churches and chapels joined in. The night was alive with starlight and jangling bells, and Bianca turned back to the room with a huge grin on her face.

‘God bless the Duchess,' she said.

With a quick glance between them, the guards all dropped to one knee. Captain Raphaeli and Marco joined them, and so did Secretary Franco, with a creak of his old joints and a small grunt.

Duchess Catriona looked extremely pleased, but waved them all up quickly. ‘I wish this was the end of our troubles,' she said. ‘But we still have a missing delegation from Oscurita who could return through the secret passages at any moment.'

‘Quite right, Your Highness,' said Captain Raphaeli. ‘Our next move should be to finish painting over all of the magical murals and rounding up the paintings to be locked up or destroyed. The frescos will be easier to deal with now that they're not leaking water to wash away our paint.'

‘Wait.' Bianca frowned. ‘You can't think of still burning the paintings now that the flood has stopped?'

‘Even without the flood, what I said before still holds true,' said Captain Raphaeli. ‘I will not take risks with the security of La Luminosa.'

‘Of course, we'll have to shut down the studios as well,' pointed out Secretary Franco. He turned to Bianca. ‘Lady Bianca, can we trust you to make sure that the ingredients to make more magical paintings are kept safe under lock and key?'

‘I  …  Yes, I suppose so,' Bianca stammered. She felt shocked and stupid all at once – she'd thought that stopping the leak would save the paintings, and she didn't know why she'd let herself believe it.

‘Good,' said Captain Raphaeli. ‘We're all tired, but we must secure the city. Before noon, I want there to be no way for anyone to access the secret passages, from anywhere.'

No way to get to the secret passages. No way to get to the studio, or Oscurita. No way to see my mother. I never got to say goodbye  … 

‘But what about my mother?' Bianca cried. ‘She's still in Oscurita, trying to rally the Resistance against Edita – we should be supporting her, not cutting her off!' She turned to Duchess Catriona. ‘Please, Duchess, don't let them destroy any more paintings. I'm sure we can find a  … '

Duchess Catriona shook her head. ‘I'm sorry, Bianca, this is the only –' she broke off to stifle a huge yawn.

‘Your Highness, you must get some rest,' said Secretary Franco. ‘Is your bedchamber still dry?'

‘Relatively,' said Duchess Catriona.

‘Then I suggest you get some sleep – our plan will take several hours to complete, and we will need you to be on your best form later.'

Duchess Catriona nodded, and with a last sympathetic-but-firm smile at Bianca, she left the room.

Marco walked over to Bianca and gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘It's OK,' he said. ‘We've stopped the damage to the paintings, and Captain Raphaeli is going to save as many as he can. It's not the end of the world.'

‘I know,' Bianca sighed. ‘It's just those paintings were Master di Lombardi's legacy. They were his
life
.'

‘Well, it's worth it if we can avoid a real war, isn't it? That's his legacy, too. He wanted there to be peace between La Luminosa and Oscurita.'

Bianca had to admit he had a point  … 

‘Plus,' said Marco with a suddenly bright smile, ‘just think of how many walls in the palace are going to need repainting after this is over! Every artist in the city is going to be busy for the rest of their lives replacing everything that's been lost.'

‘That's true,' Bianca said, the beginnings of a smile crossing her face. It was a beautiful thought, like a tiny glimmer of light at the bottom of a deep, dark well. She couldn't help imagining the great art that Lucia and Cosimo, the other artists' studios and she herself, would create in the places where the murals had been  … 

‘With one restriction,' said Secretary Franco. ‘There are to be no more magical paintings. Not ever. I won't risk this happening again.'

‘No. No!' Bianca gasped. ‘You can't outlaw magical paints! That's barbaric!'

‘It's necessary,' said Franco. ‘Even if we win the war with Oscurita and put Saralinda on the throne – which I have to tell you is doubtful – how can we know some rogue agent won't do exactly the same as the Baron did, or worse? The only way to make sure we're safe is to destroy the passages, forever, and that means no more magical paints.'

‘No  … ' Bianca shook her head. ‘That's like saying we can't build boats because someone might come over the sea and attack us! That's crazy! What's more, the Duchess would never, ever agree to that – and I'm going to show you that right now.'

She stomped across the room and tugged on the door, but, to her surprise, it was locked. She knocked, hard.

‘Duchess Catriona, I'm sorry to disturb you,' she said through the door. ‘It's important.'

‘Don't you dare disturb the Duchess's sleep!' Secretary Franco snapped.

‘She won't be asleep yet – and she won't mind, either,' Bianca said. She knocked again. ‘Please, Duchess, it'll only take a second. Secretary Franco has his head stuffed up  …  somewhere really stupid,' she finished, after a warning look from Captain Raphaeli.

There was no answer from inside the bedchamber.

She can't have fallen asleep that fast
, Bianca thought.
Can she?

‘Duchess?' she said again. ‘I'm sorry to wake you, really  … '

Still no reply.

There was a long, weightless pause in the room.

‘Duchess Catriona?' Captain Raphaeli gently moved Bianca aside and spoke through the door. ‘I can have Lady Bianca removed from your chambers if you wish.'

Bianca put her hands on her hips in annoyance, but then Raphaeli glanced back at her and she saw that his brows were drawn down with worry.

‘
Damn
it,' Raphaeli muttered under his breath. ‘I apologise for this, Your Highness!' He stood back, raised one foot and kicked at the bedchamber door. He didn't waste time drawing back, but kicked hard on the same spot four times until the wood split around the handle and the door burst open. Raphaeli ran inside, his hand on his sword hilt. Bianca followed him in, with Marco and Secretary Franco close on her heels.

There was nobody in the room. Bianca stared around at it in confusion and a growing, creeping horror.

The only door to this room was the one she'd just walked through. The Duchess couldn't have left the room without walking past everyone who was standing in her drawing room. Raphaeli went to the window and looked out, but Bianca knew it was a long drop, straight down.

Bianca walked slowly to the bed, desperately hoping this was one of Catriona's less amusing pranks and she would sit up from under the covers  …  but when Bianca pulled them back there was nothing. No Catriona, and nowhere for anyone to hide.

Bianca heard Secretary Franco and Captain Raphaeli leaping into action, giving orders to the guards. She ignored them. Everything seemed to slow down, and every tiny sensation seemed huge and overwhelming.

There
was
something in the bed – a round disc. For a second, Bianca thought that it might be the one that had caused the flooding, but it was different – it wasn't smashed, and instead of an engraving of an open door it was white marble, and completely plain. She gingerly picked it up and held it for the others to see.

‘More Oscuritan magic?' Secretary Franco growled. ‘What does it do? What has it done to the Duchess?'

Bianca shook her head miserably as she handed it over to him, unable to answer.

She backed away, and felt crunching under her feet. At first she thought it was just yet more mud, but then she looked down. The floor was almost dry, and the only mud was from the footprints that she, Marco and the guards had made when they came in. The painting that'd hung on the wall had been removed and the floor cleaned almost immediately after the flood began.

So what was the white, crunchy substance Bianca found when she stepped back? She bent down and picked up a pinch of the stuff and turned some of it between her thumb and forefinger. The white shards had quite sharp, jagged edges.

‘Sound the alarm,' Captain Raphaeli was saying, and when Bianca looked up at him he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. ‘Duchess Catriona has been taken.'

‘Wait!' Secretary Franco raised a wrinkled hand. ‘Don't sound the alarm. News of the Duchess's disappearance should not leave this room, not yet.'

What?
Bianca dropped the white substance and turned to stare at Franco. ‘Have you gone completely mental?' she asked. ‘We have to find her!'

Captain Raphaeli's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword and he stepped close to Franco. Bianca suddenly remembered Raphaeli's reputation – he was a reasonable man, but not one you wanted to get on the wrong side of.

‘I will not leave the Duchess in danger,' he growled. ‘She will not be used for some  …  some political bargaining chip! I should not have let her out of my sight, not for an instant.'

‘Unless you planned to sleep at the foot of her bed like a dog, you couldn't have stopped this,' said Secretary Franco.

‘I should have stopped it. It was my
job
to stop it!' Raphaeli slammed his fist down on the Duchess's dresser beside him. The whole room seemed to rattle, and Bianca and Marco both jumped. To his credit, Secretary Franco barely blinked. ‘I should have trusted my instincts and cut off the Baron's head where he stood when he first came through the painting – instead I let him slip through my fingers,
again.
'

Bianca remembered watching as the Baron da Russo and Piero Filpepi had vanished through the magical trapdoor to Oscurita. Captain Raphaeli hadn't been able to reach them in time.

‘I have no intention of leaving the Duchess in danger, Captain,' said Secretary Franco, quietly. ‘I believe our best chance of bringing her back quickly and unharmed is to do it in secret. An invasion is clearly imminent, and it won't help our chances if the people panic. Let them focus on Duchess Catriona's role in stopping the flood. Meanwhile  … ' He hesitated, drawing a deep breath, as if he was going to have to say something he didn't like. Then he turned and looked directly at Bianca.

‘Bianca, I want you to be completely honest with me now. Is it true that your mother is the true Duchess of Oscurita, and that she has assembled a number of Resistance fighters?'

‘Yes,' she said.

‘And is it true that you yourself can see and move around in Oscurita?'

‘Yes!' Bianca said, angry that he doubted her word  …  and then she realised what he was planning. ‘Yes, I can.'

‘No, Franco. No.' Captain Raphaeli shook his head, clearly realising the plan too. ‘We can't send her in alone – she's a child!'

‘I'm the only person who can do it, though,' Bianca said. ‘Marco's an acrobat, and even he was always falling over things when he came to Oscurita with me.'

‘Thanks,' Marco muttered.

‘The Resistance will help me,' Bianca added. ‘And I know how to find them.'

‘I don't propose sending Bianca in to fight the war by herself,' Franco explained to Captain Raphaeli. ‘But it seems clear to me that Duchess Catriona has been spirited away with Oscuritan magic. She may be in Oscurita, or hidden in some secret place between the cities like Bianca's painted passages.'

‘Smashing the medallion worked last time,' Marco pointed out. ‘Do you think if we break this one  … '

They all stared at the perfectly white disc in Secretary Franco's hand.

‘I wouldn't,' said Captain Raphaeli. ‘If we do she may be trapped wherever she is, maybe forever. We can't risk it.'

‘Either way, we know the Oscuritans are behind this. We need someone to go there and find out what they've done with the Duchess and how we can get her back.' Franco looked at Bianca. ‘Nobody else but her can move around Oscurita without drawing attention to themselves.'

Raphaeli shook his head. ‘Sending children after children,' he muttered. But he finally let his hand slip from the hilt of his sword. ‘How shall we get her through? If we're keeping the Duchess's kidnapping a secret, I wouldn't advise marching Bianca down to the museum to slip in through one of the paintings there. The place will still be swarming with people – and if I was an Oscuritan spy, that's where I'd want to be.'

‘Can you paint yourself a door?' Marco asked. ‘She's done it before, you know,' he added proudly. ‘She painted us out of a prison tower.'

Bianca smiled at him. ‘I might be able to – if I have the materials. There should be some in the artist-in-residence suite.'

‘Then let's go,' Secretary Franco said. ‘And remember, not a word to anyone about the Duchess.'

The artist in residence's tiny studio had not had its floors cleaned – they were starting to dry out, but they were still caked with mud. Marco, Franco and Raphaeli lingered in the doorway while Bianca picked her way across to the cabinet where the paints should be and threw it open. Then her shoulders slumped.

‘There's not enough paint to make a door,' she said. ‘Cosimo and Lucia must've moved it all to di Lombardi's workshop – and we can't get there without a painted door.'
Another reason Franco cannot be allowed to ban us from using the passages
, Bianca thought sadly.

‘We could go to Master Filpepi's studio?' Marco suggested weakly.

‘I suppose we'll have to. But that'll cost us time, and who knows what's happening to Catriona while we run all over the city?' Bianca turned on the spot, opening drawers and cupboards, searching for anything at all that might help – until suddenly she saw something out of the corner of her eye. It was hidden at the back of a cupboard, covered in dust and not even upright – it seemed as if it'd slipped down there some time ago and never been found.

A small vial, half-f of
lux aurumque
.

‘What've you found?' Marco asked. Bianca turned around and held up the vial.

‘Can you make a door with that?' Secretary Franco asked.

‘I can't make a whole painting with it,' Bianca said. ‘What I
want
is  … ' She hesitated. ‘I don't know, it might not even be possible.'

‘
What
?' Marco asked.

‘Well, if I could take this to an old-fashioned, ordinary painting, one that's completely non-magical, maybe I could do something that'd let me through. But it might not work, and anyway, where –'

‘Mistress Frazetti,' chorused Marco and Captain Raphaeli. Bianca stared at them both, and then grinned.

Bianca and Marco hurried through the streets of La Luminosa just as dawn was breaking. The sunrise was as beautiful as ever, spears of bright light piercing pink and orange clouds, the sky above turning from pre-dawn pale blue to a deep, daylight blue.

Secretary Franco had found Mistress Frazetti's address in his records. She lived on the Via del Costello, a busy street between two canals. But today the city seemed strangely dim and quiet. There were people out on the wet, mud-caked streets – not the normal array of early-rising bakers and grocers and street sweepers, but bleary-eyed people from all walks of life who seemed uncertain what to do now that it was tomorrow, and they were at war. Most of them obviously hadn't been to sleep since they were woken by the water pouring out of the paintings and murals in their homes. There were so many magical paintings in the city that even some of the poorest families would have had a tiny magical sketch or a cameo for the water to leak out from.

And there were guards –
lots
of guards. Bianca couldn't help the urge to hide in the shadows and run to avoid them, even though she knew she hadn't done anything wrong. She self-consciously smoothed down her Oscuritan servant's outfit. She'd changed into it before they left the palace, and though it felt blessedly dry and warm after spending most of the night in a dress that'd been in the canal, she stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the bright colours and plain, pale cottons of La Luminosa.

On every street they saw guards with pails of black paint destroying the city's murals. More than once they passed carts laden with paintings, being driven slowly along by guards who stopped and knocked on every door they passed.

‘Bring out any paintings you have inside,' one guard said to the frightened-looking old man who answered the door. ‘Duchess Catriona's orders.'

The old man disappeared for a moment, and came back with a cracked painting of a young woman. She was laughing, her eyes bright. It was a magical painting. Bianca looked away and let Marco steer her quickly around a corner, afraid that if she caught the old man's eye he would know what she knew: his painting was too dangerous to leave alone, but not important enough to save. His laughing young lady would be thrown on the pyre.

Finally, they reached Mistress Frazetti's house. It was on one of the smaller canals, a large house set slightly apart from both its neighbours. A pair of servants were busily washing down the street outside, brushing the mud back into the canal with large brushes. They looked up in interest as Bianca and Marco walked up to the house and knocked on the door.

The door was opened just a crack and a young voice said, ‘C-can I help you?'

‘We need to see Mistress Frazetti,' Bianca said. From the sliver of her face she could see, the girl on the other side of the door only looked about their age, and she was shifting nervously from foot to foot. ‘It's very, very important – it concerns the safety of the whole city,' Bianca said.

‘I don't think so,' said the girl. ‘No, thank you, we don't want any  … '

‘Maria, stand aside,' said another voice. The girl vanished and the door opened properly to reveal Mistress Frazetti herself. She looked rather different in her own home, fully dressed and with her thin grey hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. ‘It
is
you,' she said. ‘I thought I recognised your voice. And your gentlemanly companion,' she added, with a kindly smile at Marco. ‘I cannot thank you enough for your help last night.'

‘Mistress Frazetti, it's about last night we've come,' said Marco. ‘It's about your painting.'

Mistress Frazetti's face took on a suspicious look. ‘If you've come to burn my painting after all, I won't hear it,' she said.

‘No, nothing like that,' Bianca said.

‘Well,' said Marco, ‘it's to do with all the trouble, with the water  …  It really would be easier to explain this inside,' he added.

‘All right,' said Mistress Frazetti. She looked up and down the street before she waved them inside and locked the door behind them.

‘Mistress Frazetti,' Bianca said, ‘I would never ask this of you if it wasn't absolutely an emergency. The thing is, I need to use your painting. I need to  … 
alter
it, slightly.'

‘Alter it?' the plump lady looked distinctly shocked. ‘How? For what purpose?'

‘I need to turn it into a magic painting, so I can use it to transport myself somewhere,' Bianca said, guessing that the truth was probably going to be just as convincing as any lie she could come up with.

Mistress Frazetti gazed at them for a moment. Then she smiled. ‘Then you really are Master di Lombardi's granddaughter?'

Bianca blushed. She'd forgotten that she'd tried to pull rank on the guard who'd been trying to burn the painting. ‘Well  …  yes,' she said.

‘Well, I know you care more about art than anyone else in La Luminosa,' said Mistress Frazetti. ‘I suppose if you want to alter my painting, you must have a good reason.'

‘I do,' said Bianca. ‘I promise.'

‘All right,' said Mistress Frazetti. ‘Follow me.'

She led them upstairs and into a room that had very little in it except for a big old wardrobe. Mistress Frazetti produced a key from her sleeve and unlocked the wardrobe.

‘In case those guards come back,' she said. ‘I'm not letting them get hold of this again.'

She opened the wardrobe and took out the painting. It was about as tall as Bianca was from top to bottom.

‘Who is she?' Marco asked, nodding at the little girl in the painting.

‘My great-grandmother,' said Mistress Frazetti. ‘A very good woman. Listen, dear – I hope this really is as important as you say it is.'

‘It is, I promise,' said Bianca. ‘And I promise not to do anything to hurt your great grandmother's portrait. I can work around her. If that's all right.'

Mistress Frazetti sighed. ‘All right.'

‘Great.' Bianca grinned with relief. ‘Thank you, so much! Have you got any ink?'

‘Oh, er – yes. It's in my study.'

‘Will you get it?' Bianca asked Marco, kneeling in front of the painting and pulling out the vial of
lux aurumque
and di Lombardi's paintbrush. Marco gave her a little salute and then ushered Mistress Frazetti out of the room.

Bianca sighed, happy to be alone with the painting for a few minutes without its worried owner hovering over her shoulder. She touched the surface of the paint with careful fingers. It was painted with quite heavy strokes and thick layers of paint. That was good for Bianca. Even though it was a hundred years old, the paint might still respond to the
lux aurumque
when she painted it on. She might even be able to blend her doorway in seamlessly with the rest of the picture.

She uncorked the vial and dipped the brush into it. First, she needed to be able to get to the door, and that meant creating a pathway of real space from the foreground of the painting to the background. She held the brush up, took a few deep breaths and tried to steady her own heartbeat.

She'd painted space into a picture before – but never one that was so old, or one that hadn't been designed with magic in mind. This was completely new territory.

Just like the first time you painted something solid
, she thought.
Just like the time you made a door with nothing but
lux aurumque
petals and watercolours. You couldn't do it, and then you did
.