The Force of Wind
Page 30
Giovanni strolled through the palace grounds, working his way across the gardens until he was wandering through the stones in front of Elder Zhongli’s wing.
“Well, you smell like you’ve had a good night.”
He turned to his son, who was sprawled on a bench, pleased to have found him so quickly.
“I’ve had an excellent night, thank you.”
“Your human is very alluring, but I’m surprised you haven’t killed her yet. I tend to break human women. That’s why I gave up on them years ago. Too fragile.”
“Not all of us are barbarians.”
“Oh”—Lorenzo threw out a laugh—“yes we are. Just because we fool ourselves with the trappings of courtly life does not mean we’re not monsters.”
“Becoming a philosopher in your old age, Lorenzo?”
“Oh no.” His blue eyes gleamed in the darkness. “I quite enjoy being the thing that goes bump in the night. In fact, I revel in it.”
Giovanni stepped closer to his only child. At one point, he and Lorenzo had been almost like brothers, lashed together, trying to survive the whims of a madman. That they had gone such drastically different directions still bothered him.
“Why do you want this elixir?”
Lorenzo’s eyebrows lifted. “Ah! So Stephen did figure it out, did he? I thought he would, especially when I discovered he was here. I wonder how he put the pieces together to come here. It’s very curious.”
Giovanni had wondered that himself, but he did not voice his suspicions to Lorenzo. “How did you know he was here?”
“Oh, what’s the saying?” Lorenzo glanced over his shoulder toward the Zhongli’s guards that shadowed him on the palace grounds. He smiled. “‘A little bird told me?’”
“Of course.” So Zhongli Quan did have some ulterior motive inviting Lorenzo to the island. Otherwise, why would he have tempted him with Stephen’s whereabouts?
“You never answered my question. Why do you want this elixir?”
Lorenzo grinned. “I’m a humanitarian.”
“You’re a monster.”
He shrugged. “I’m a monstrous humanitarian?”
“Why?”
Lorenzo only rolled his eyes. “As if I would tell you, Papà! What do you think? I’m going to reveal all in some strange, enlightening monologue? What makes you think I even have a reason? Maybe I just want it so others can’t have it?”
“You’re too calculating for that.”
Lorenzo stood in the blink of an eye. “Yes, I am.”
His son stepped closer, and Giovanni could feel the heat running along his skin. It would be so easy… But he saw Lorenzo’s guards step closer, so he smiled and turned to go.
“I’ll see you around, Lorenzo. We’ll have to have some father-son bonding time when your guards aren’t around.”
“So sentimental, Giovanni. I do love a good family reunion. If only Niccolo was here.”
Giovanni turned, cutting his eyes toward the guards before he looked at Lorenzo. “If Andros was here,” he whispered, “you wouldn’t be.”
“Oh, I know.” Lorenzo’s mouth curved into a wicked smile. “I remember. Everything.”
Chapter Eight
Mount Penglai, China
September 2010
“Stupid, irritating, obscure, dead, Persian guy.” Beatrice muttered as she scanned a copy of a sixteenth century manuscript, searching for the exact ingredients of a curative concoction that her father thought might be similar to one of Geber’s ingredients. “Why couldn’t he just write in clear language instead of putting everything in code?”
Stephen glanced up. “Trust me, I understand. Having his journals was the only thing that let me decipher the manuscript at all. Otherwise, it would have been complete gibberish.”
They were buried in Zhang’s personal library, which Stephen said rivaled the monastery library where the manuscript was being kept. Zhang Guo’s selection of manuscripts and scrolls was… intimidating.
Beatrice stretched her neck and looked around. “Is this library bigger than Lorenzo’s collection? Well, it’s rightfully Gio’s, I suppose.”
“It’s comparable.” Stephen nodded and looked around. “The subject matter is just wildly different. I really could go on for ages about Andros’s collection from the ancient world. He seemed to have a particular fascination with the near East and Minoan culture.” Stephen chuckled. “If you got your hands on it, you could spend an eternity cataloguing its contents. It wasn’t exactly organized in any fashion. And, of course, Lorenzo moved it periodically, so I’m sure some things have been lost or damaged.”
She shook her head. “So, in addition to kidnapping and murder, the bastard’s guilty of putting ancient documents at risk. I really have to kill him now.”
Stephen shook with laughter. “Oh, Mariposa…” He reached across the table and brushed her cheek. “I’m so lucky to see you again.” Stephen sighed a little, and she could see his eyes line slightly with pink tears. “I never really thought I would, you know? I hoped, but I never thought it would be safe for us to be in contact. If you hadn’t come under Giovanni’s aegis—”
“My life would be…” She laughed. “I can’t even imagine.”
“You’d probably be safer.”
“Well, you smell like you’ve had a good night.”
He turned to his son, who was sprawled on a bench, pleased to have found him so quickly.
“I’ve had an excellent night, thank you.”
“Your human is very alluring, but I’m surprised you haven’t killed her yet. I tend to break human women. That’s why I gave up on them years ago. Too fragile.”
“Not all of us are barbarians.”
“Oh”—Lorenzo threw out a laugh—“yes we are. Just because we fool ourselves with the trappings of courtly life does not mean we’re not monsters.”
“Becoming a philosopher in your old age, Lorenzo?”
“Oh no.” His blue eyes gleamed in the darkness. “I quite enjoy being the thing that goes bump in the night. In fact, I revel in it.”
Giovanni stepped closer to his only child. At one point, he and Lorenzo had been almost like brothers, lashed together, trying to survive the whims of a madman. That they had gone such drastically different directions still bothered him.
“Why do you want this elixir?”
Lorenzo’s eyebrows lifted. “Ah! So Stephen did figure it out, did he? I thought he would, especially when I discovered he was here. I wonder how he put the pieces together to come here. It’s very curious.”
Giovanni had wondered that himself, but he did not voice his suspicions to Lorenzo. “How did you know he was here?”
“Oh, what’s the saying?” Lorenzo glanced over his shoulder toward the Zhongli’s guards that shadowed him on the palace grounds. He smiled. “‘A little bird told me?’”
“Of course.” So Zhongli Quan did have some ulterior motive inviting Lorenzo to the island. Otherwise, why would he have tempted him with Stephen’s whereabouts?
“You never answered my question. Why do you want this elixir?”
Lorenzo grinned. “I’m a humanitarian.”
“You’re a monster.”
He shrugged. “I’m a monstrous humanitarian?”
“Why?”
Lorenzo only rolled his eyes. “As if I would tell you, Papà! What do you think? I’m going to reveal all in some strange, enlightening monologue? What makes you think I even have a reason? Maybe I just want it so others can’t have it?”
“You’re too calculating for that.”
Lorenzo stood in the blink of an eye. “Yes, I am.”
His son stepped closer, and Giovanni could feel the heat running along his skin. It would be so easy… But he saw Lorenzo’s guards step closer, so he smiled and turned to go.
“I’ll see you around, Lorenzo. We’ll have to have some father-son bonding time when your guards aren’t around.”
“So sentimental, Giovanni. I do love a good family reunion. If only Niccolo was here.”
Giovanni turned, cutting his eyes toward the guards before he looked at Lorenzo. “If Andros was here,” he whispered, “you wouldn’t be.”
“Oh, I know.” Lorenzo’s mouth curved into a wicked smile. “I remember. Everything.”
Chapter Eight
Mount Penglai, China
September 2010
“Stupid, irritating, obscure, dead, Persian guy.” Beatrice muttered as she scanned a copy of a sixteenth century manuscript, searching for the exact ingredients of a curative concoction that her father thought might be similar to one of Geber’s ingredients. “Why couldn’t he just write in clear language instead of putting everything in code?”
Stephen glanced up. “Trust me, I understand. Having his journals was the only thing that let me decipher the manuscript at all. Otherwise, it would have been complete gibberish.”
They were buried in Zhang’s personal library, which Stephen said rivaled the monastery library where the manuscript was being kept. Zhang Guo’s selection of manuscripts and scrolls was… intimidating.
Beatrice stretched her neck and looked around. “Is this library bigger than Lorenzo’s collection? Well, it’s rightfully Gio’s, I suppose.”
“It’s comparable.” Stephen nodded and looked around. “The subject matter is just wildly different. I really could go on for ages about Andros’s collection from the ancient world. He seemed to have a particular fascination with the near East and Minoan culture.” Stephen chuckled. “If you got your hands on it, you could spend an eternity cataloguing its contents. It wasn’t exactly organized in any fashion. And, of course, Lorenzo moved it periodically, so I’m sure some things have been lost or damaged.”
She shook her head. “So, in addition to kidnapping and murder, the bastard’s guilty of putting ancient documents at risk. I really have to kill him now.”
Stephen shook with laughter. “Oh, Mariposa…” He reached across the table and brushed her cheek. “I’m so lucky to see you again.” Stephen sighed a little, and she could see his eyes line slightly with pink tears. “I never really thought I would, you know? I hoped, but I never thought it would be safe for us to be in contact. If you hadn’t come under Giovanni’s aegis—”
“My life would be…” She laughed. “I can’t even imagine.”
“You’d probably be safer.”
