“I believe so,” Leonardo said.
More horses raced into the Piazza Santa Croce now, and the roar from the crowd made any more talking impossible. Leonardo turned his attention to the spectacle below. And Felix tried to do the same. But really one question kept getting in his way: where in the world was Maisie?
When Maisie stepped out of Verrocchio’s studio into the streets of Florence, the city seemed electric with excitement. Vendors crowded the cobblestone alleys and large piazzas, selling hot chestnuts, wine, and sweets. The air smelled of sugar and sweat and horses and horse poop and oil and Florence’s own particular smell all at the same time. Somehow, Maisie liked this combination and she paused to inhale it, happy again that she’d hidden the seal back at the Palazzo Medici, essentially keeping herself and Felix here for as long as she liked.
Two women stood watching her, their faces filled with curiosity. They didn’t have the strange dyed-yellow hair like Clarice did, or the pasty-white faces. Instead, their dark hair was pulled up under pointy hats, and their olive skin and large brown eyes made them appear friendly.
Maisie smiled as she approached them.
“Excuse me,” she said, and the women glanced at each other, confused.
Maisie continued anyway.
“Do you know where the Medicis might be? I think Lorenzo is in some kind of race?”
At the name Medici, the women looked startled.
One of them said something to Maisie so rapidly that Maisie couldn’t understand her.
“I’m sorry,” Maisie said. “Where are they?”
Again, the women glanced at her, confused.
In the distance, the sound of a crowd cheering and thundering horses’ hooves could be heard.
The other woman pointed in the direction of the noise and said something else unintelligible.
“That way?” Maisie asked. “The Medicis?”
The name Medici had the same effect on the women, who nodded and stepped away from Maisie, letting themselves get swallowed up by the growing crowd.
What in the world is wrong with them? Maisie wondered as she headed in the direction they’d indicated.
But it was difficult to follow sounds, and soon Maisie realized she’d walked in a circle, the cheers growing at first nearer and then, after several wrong turns, distant again.
This time Maisie approached a group of five boys about her age. They stood munching some kind of fried sweets from paper cones, and pushing and elbowing each other in the way boys at home did, too.
“Hi,” Maisie said.
“Hi,” the tallest, most handsome boy repeated, sending the others into a fit of laughter.
“Hi,” another one said.
“Hi,” the other three echoed.
“O . . . kay,” Maisie said, wondering why boys everywhere, even in Italy, even hundreds of years ago, acted exactly the same way. “I’m looking for the, I don’t know, Medici seats? Or maybe they have, like, a box somewhere? Lorenzo is in a horse race?”
At first, the boys just stared at her, their mouths gaping open.
Then the tall one—the leader, Maisie realized—said, “Non capisco.”
“Non capisco,” Maisie repeated. “Is that near the Palazzo or—”
“Non capisco,” the boy said again, more adamantly.
“Non capisco, I got it. But I’m not from here, so I’m not sure where exactly that is.”
The boy laughed, throwing his arms up in defeat.
They all joined him, laughing and talking all at once. Maisie couldn’t really make out what they were saying, though she heard the name Medici and something like Piazza Santa Croce.
“Thanks for nothing,” she muttered angrily as she walked away.
Once again she tried to follow the sounds of the distant crowds. She stopped periodically to ask directions from people who seemed kind or helpful.
“Non capisco?” she asked one after the other. “This way?”
But each time they looked back at her puzzled or amused or disinterested.
After a very long time, Maisie finally glimpsed what had to be this non capisco place. She saw horses and men with long swords, more vendors, men and women dressed in finery, jesters, and musicians.
Relieved, Maisie made her slow way through the revelers.
Now all she had to do was find Felix.
Lorenzo joined Felix and the others, his face awash with the excitement of his victory.
“Time for the jousting,” he said as he took his seat between Clarice and his brother, Giuliano.