"There is."
"Okay, well, let's start at the beginning?"
She hit play and we watched the first video together. I understood almost nothing, but when Nicodemo lifted his arm and showed a small mark on the outside of his wrist to the camera, I recognized it. It was the same shape and in the same place as Dante's tattoo. I suddenly remembered where I'd seen it before—Isaia had been doodling the shape over and over in his sketchbook.
The clip finished and Elda turned to me. "Nicodemo is introducing himself to Isaia, basically saying that I would have told him by now that he's Isaia's father and so on, and also that we know now that Isaia is a magus. He explains that all magi have this mark. They aren't necessarily born with it, so you don't know right away if a child has the fire, but eventually it comes out. Have you seen a mark by the way?"
I held up my wrists for her to see, but she shook her head. "It's not always in the same place. It can appear anywhere. Isaia's is on the back of his right leg, high up almost on his bum."
"Oh, then no. I haven't seen a mark, but I haven't looked either."
"Well, I'm sure one will appear soon."
"What else did he say?"
"He explained what I already told you, about always staying hydrated," she said, yawning. "That's it for this one."
She selected the next clip and pressed play. She watched for a moment and then nodded and said, "This is the one about the eyes." She watched the rest of it. I looked over her shoulder as Nicodemo made gestures with his fingers and pointed to his own eyes.
"He explains that one of the most difficult things to master is the red glow. If you're not careful, when you're angry, upset, or excited, the fire will show through your pupils. He said that the secret to controlling the glow is to master your emotions. This is one of the reasons that I deliberately kept Isaia's life quieter than Cristiano's. Thank God Pietro has never noticed it, or if he has he must think it's a trick of the light. He said that to keep the glow dim, breathe deeply and speak slowly. He recommends starting a meditation practice, and to always think before you speak."
"Fantastic," I said. "That is so not my strong suit."
"It gets easier. Eventually, you'll learn to recognize the feeling of the glow, and you'll be able to control it. It’s just difficult at first."
We both gave face-splitting yawns and then laughed at each other’s watery eyes.
"Shall we resume again, tomorrow?" I suggested. I was dying to know more, but I was rapidly losing focus.
She nodded. "If you're sure."
I yawned again. My jaw cracked. "I'm sure."
"Okay. I'm going to check on Isaia. It's..." she looked at her watch. "Three thirty."
We dropped the mugs off in the kitchen sink and I followed her to Isaia's room. He was sleeping deeply, giving off soft little snores.
"I can't believe he spoke," she whispered, stroking his hair back.
"He's healing, Elda," I whispered.
We grinned at each other in the dark.
Her smile faltered. "I'm not sure how I'm going to explain it to Pietro. After all, his first word was your name."
"I don't think that has to be weird," I said. "He's been spending a lot of time with me and you guys saw from the start that he likes me. I don't think he'll question it."
She nodded. "I hope you're right."
We left the room, and she closed the door. I was headed to the stairs when she said my name. I turned back.
"Thank you. I know you didn't have a choice, but you gave me my son back. You saved his life." She looked at me from down the hall, her hand on her bedroom door. Even at a distance I could feel her gratitude.
My throat closed up and I didn't trust my voice. I nodded and we went our separate ways.
By the time I got to my room, I felt utterly exhausted. I looked at my phone to see that Dante had texted shortly after I had run away from him.
We need to talk.
Frowning, I shut my phone off.
Twenty-Two
I stepped into the shower, turning the water to cool. It was only mid-morning but the day was already stifling and heavy. Surely this was going to be the hottest day since I'd arrived. I imagined I could hear the water sizzle as it hit my body, evaporating instantly. I felt like there was a bonfire raging inside of me, but outwardly nothing looked any different. The heat outside made the fire inside even more uncomfortable. I'd had three frozen fruit slushes for breakfast in an effort to cool down.
It had been over a week since Isaia had begun to speak and he’d steadily improved with every day that passed. When Pietro came home from London, he'd been overjoyed when Isaia actually ran to greet him. Elda and I had shared a happy look at Pietro's pleasure, though it was loaded with the secret we both carried.
Isaia had begun to play a bit of soccer with Cristiano, even if it was only for a few minutes at a time. This morning, I’d delivered them both to swimming lessons, grateful that they'd be in a pool today, instead of running around under the unforgiving sun.
Dante had called and texted me multiple times each day, asking to meet. I ignored all of his attempts to communicate and was thankful that I'd never told him where I lived or which family I was working for.
My phone chirped and I frowned, suspecting that it was him. I poked my head out of the shower to check my phone. Pleasure washed through me when I saw that it was Raf.
I'm back from Milan. Can a guy entice you to meet up for cold drink in Giardini later today?
Me: You said the magic words. What time? I have to pick the boys up in two hours.
Raf: For me, before is better than after. I have to work tonight. Can you do in a half hour?
Me: ??
I cranked the water to cold and stood under it for as long as possible. I slammed off the shower, thinking I might soon resort to ice baths. After I toweled off, I ran a pick through my wet tangle of curls and left it to air dry. I pulled on a bright turquoise summer dress and jammed my feet into my flip-flops. My wide-brimmed hat would keep the sun off my pale face, so I set it on my head.
The moment I stepped into the street, I could feel waves of heat coming off the stones. The air was still and stagnant, but as I walked toward Giardini and hit the calle along the ocean, the breeze picked up. I entered the large park behind a waterfront restaurant. Kids played in the park while parents sipped iced drinks and wilted on park benches.
I took the opportunity to punch out a few texts to my friends. It was mid-summer already and we still hadn't heard a peep from Akiko. Targa had reported a "friends only" status with the cute fighter-pilot-looking dude. I hoped he got promoted to something more than friends soon, for her sake. She was so unenthusiastic about romance of any kind that I sometimes wondered if she was born libido-less. And if that wasn't a word then I'd submit it to Oxford's Dictionary with Targa's photo as the definition.
Georjie had admitted to spending more time gardening than on her laptop and I sputtered a disbelieving, "What!?" Picturing her with dirt under her fingernails and her hair under a kerchief sent me into paroxysms of glee. Her adopted cousin, Jasher, who had started out as 'friendly as a nest of vipers,' now had a 'cautiously optimistic' forecast. My mouth tweaked a smile. At least things were moving in the right direction. I told them that I'd demoted one pretty Italian boy to the bottom of the heap - 'anal discharge' was the term I'd coined, and I chuckled at Georjie's 'puke' emoticon in response to my graphic insult. Then I told them the other pretty Italian boy was now tagged with 'promise.'