“Well, I think they’re made out of silk, not linen, but, yeah, that sounds like a parachute.”
“But they don’t exist,” Leonardo said, searching Felix’s face in a way that made Felix squirm.
“Right,” Felix said.
“How did you know what I was explaining?” Leonardo asked.
For reasons Felix could not understand, he said, “Because I’m from the future.”
This news did not appear to surprise Leonardo.
“I wondered,” he said softly. “Your clothing. Some of the things you’ve said . . .”
Felix met Leonardo’s steady gaze.
“And my idea, this . . . parachute . . . it exists? And it works?”
Felix nodded.
“Then you must know . . . Is the moon covered with water?” Leonardo asked him eagerly.
“No, there’s no water on the moon. It’s just rocks,” Felix said.
“But then, how does the moon reflect the light of the sun if not from the water on the moon?”
Leonardo looked so disappointed that Felix said, “But maybe there was water there a million years ago.”
“What about whirlybirds?” Leonardo asked.
“I—”
“And flying machines?”
“Yes—”
“And is there a lens that helps you to see these things? The sun and the moon—”
“A telescope,” Felix said.
Leonardo stared at Felix.
“Take me with you,” he said.
“With me where?”
“To the future,” Leonardo said simply.
CHAPTER 9
INSIDE THE PALAZZO MEDICI
Maisie and Sandro arrived at the Palazzo Medici right at the appointed hour.
“Let’s hope Leonardo remembers to come,” Sandro had said mockingly to Maisie when they showed up at Verrocchio’s studio to find Leonardo and Felix gone.
Even though Maisie had thought they should wait, Sandro convinced her that Leonardo lived on his own terms. “He’s always late, or forgets altogether, or simply decides to follow one of his harebrained theories instead of doing whatever he’s supposed to be doing. Trust me, we could miss the entire party if we decide to wait.”
Reluctantly, Maisie agreed.
And now that they were walking across the street that led to the palace, all thoughts of Felix vanished from her mind. Although the Palazzo Medici didn’t look like a typical one—she couldn’t help but imagine it would resemble Cinderella’s castle in Disney World—it was a grand, imposing, enormous thing in the shape of a cube. The sight of it as it came into view made her gasp and pause to take it in. Much larger than Elm Medona, with men on horseback and uniformed guards standing sentry, the Palazzo Medici was maybe the grandest thing Maisie had ever seen.
“What do these Medicis do, anyway?” Maisie asked Sandro when she finally got her voice back.
“That is a complicated question,” Sandro answered. “Lorenzo’s grandfather, Cosimo, was a banker originally. A banker who eventually led the Republic of Florence. Now, the Medicis are one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in Europe.”
A young man dressed all in crimson came out of the large palace entry doors. He had, Maisie thought, a ridiculous haircut. His black hair was styled into a pageboy, complete with straight bangs hanging right above his jet-black eyes.
Just as Maisie was about to ask if this was the court jester, Sandro opened his arms and said in a boisterous voice, “Lorenzo the Magnificent!”
Phew! Maisie thought, relieved that for once she hadn’t embarrassed herself.
Sandro and Lorenzo set about hugging and kissing each other’s cheeks, the way all the men here greeted each other.
“Am I the first to arrive?” Sandro asked when they finally separated.
“Not quite,” Lorenzo said.
“Well,” Sandro said conspiratorially, “I know I’m not the last to arrive.”
Lorenzo laughed heartily. “That distinction always goes to Leonardo,” he said.
“So, who has beaten me here?” Sandro asked.
Maisie saw how competitive he was, his eyes peering over Lorenzo’s shoulder, searching for the more punctual artist.
“Piero della Francesca is, of course, here—”
“What?!” Maisie blurted.
The two men looked at her, surprised.
“Piero della Francesca is my art teacher’s favorite artist,” she said. “He’s here?”
Lorenzo narrowed his eyes at her. “Who did you say this was, Sandro?”
“Maisie Robbins,” Sandro said. “Her father studied here. Who did you say he apprenticed with?”
Thankfully, before Maisie came up with an answer, Lorenzo said, “Ah! So he knew Piero?”
“No,” Maisie said, immediately regretting her honesty. “But, I mean, isn’t Piero della Francesca kind of famous?”
“Someday, I hope,” Lorenzo said ruefully. “As his benefactor, I believe that someday the world will know who he is.”
He glanced at Sandro, who was sulking beside him.
“And Sandro Botticelli, too, of course,” Lorenzo added.