He whooped with laughter and slapped his knee. "You are the nanny?!" he bellowed. "This is beautiful. It is like a movie, no?”
"Au pair."
"Whatever, whatever." He was still laughing. "I shall send someone to confirm that what you say is true. If the boy no longer has the fire, then you may take on her debt." A bemused expression crossed his face. "I don't know why you would do that. Once we have made an agreement it is unbreakable. I hope you know what you're getting into—"
I interrupted him, more from nerves than dominance. "This is the part where we talk terms, right?"
"Giusto." He scratched his chin, amused. Could he hear how loud my heart was beating?
"When you send someone to confirm that Isaia is no longer a magus, you must call Elda first and set a proper appointment. Don't just show up on her doorstep, you'll give her a heart attack."
"Certo," he said, looking at me like I was one brain cell from idiocy. “You think we are animals?"
I barrelled on before I lost my guts. I held up my first two fingers, "Secondly, I owe you a favour, but any costs involved are covered by you, I won't do anything illegal, and you have to understand that I'm not even a legal adult yet. I have a family, parents, to answer to."
He waved this off. "I do not send children to do my work."
"Good." I held up three fingers. "And lastly, you get one debt, one favour. Do you understand? Uno."
His belly shook with silent laughter and he said, "I like you. I am not used to negotiated with a teenager. It's like un... piccolo gioco."
"This is not a game," I said, and the fire lit my iris’ to a flickering orange.
"Well, I can see you are not lying," Enzo said, staring into my eyes, smiling and unafraid. “Although, your harsh voice provided evidence, too.”
"This is my life. I'm not a secret agent, an assassin, or one of your mafioso—"
I was about to go on when his smile disappeared. "Mafioso? You think we are mafia?"
I blinked. "Aren't you?"
"You North Americans think you know so much just because you watch The Godfather, which, for the record, is a beautiful film. But no, we have no part with those devils. I am simply a businessman with long arms."
I wasn't sure what the difference was. "Okay," I said, "I stand corrected. Either way, don't send a knife to a gun-fight, okay?"
His offended expression was gone as swiftly as it had come and he laughed heartily. "A knife, or a spoon plastica?" he raised an eyebrow.
I blushed, and the flames in my pupils sizzled out like he'd thrown a bucket of cold water on me.
"You were making art from macaroni two years ago," Enzo continued. "What can I trust you with?"
"Well..." I stumbled, "I can... light things on fire, and stuff." I cringed.
"But you won't do anything illegal..."
I wasn't sure what to say to this. What kind of task would he ask of me if I was a magus that wouldn't do anything that was against the law?
"I am not like Nic—" I began, but stopped. What if I'd put too many restrictions in place? I could lose the deal.
"Giovanni!" Enzo barked, making me jump.
Moments later, one of the men I'd seen earlier appeared. Enzo asked him for something. He nodded and disappeared.
"Tell you what," Enzo said. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "The Baseggios can go on with life for now, non c’é problema. Most likely, I will transfer her debt to you..."
Most likely? My heart sank.
Giovanni returned and handed Enzo a small black card. Enzo said, "Per lei, per lei!" pointing to me. Giovanni mechanically swung the card to me.
I took it. It had the name Basil Chaplin stamped on it in red metallic ink, and a phone number. I turned the card over. On the back was a symbol I recognized - the magus mark. It was embossed into the card, also with red metallic ink.
"But first," Enzo continued, "you call him. You spend some time with him, " he rotated his hands over each other to indicate the passage of time. "You learn things. Then you come see me. We talk then. I am a patient man. One does not get where I am without patience."
I fingered the smooth card, and my thumb grazed the name embossed into the soft paper. Hope filled me. To my surprise, I felt a sudden and strong bond with this person, this Basil, though I didn't know him. He was magi. He was my tribe. If I felt this connected to a stranger, how would I feel once I'd met him? I was starting to understand the connection between Isaia and Nic better as my eyes devoured the letters. Basil Chaplin.
The phone number was European but I didn't recognize the country code. I was going to have to do some serious thinking about what to do next. I was facing my last year of high school, choosing a university, going back home to my family. How was I going to explain this to them? My parents were going to freak out. Should I even tell them? I didn't know how to keep a secret from them anyway, they can read my face like it's an open book. And my voice would probably never go back to normal. I crammed all these thoughts away and tucked the black card into my pocket.
There was still the matter of Dante.
"Your son..." I began.
"You know Dante?" Enzo asked. Was it just my imagination or did his face darken? So Dante hadn't mentioned me.
"I don't want to get involved with your family stuff, but Dante said he sent men to Gallipoli, to track the Baseggios."
If his brow had not darkened earlier, it was looking thunderous now. "What did my son do? Did you tell him you are magi?"
"He knows," I admitted.
He let out a stream of high-speed Italian which sounded nice to my ears but it was clear that the meaning was not nice. "You leave Dante to me," he growled.
"Okay," I said. Did I really just tattle on Dante to his dad? Yup. I just did. I shoved the sheepish feeling into the same dusty corner of my brain that I shoved all the other thoughts I'd labeled 'later.'
"One last thing," he said. "Can you give me your word that you will never use your power to harm me or any of my own, including my employees?”
I wasn't expecting that. Dante's face flashed in my mind. My thoughts rifled through the possible consequences of telling Enzo what Dante had done. I finally decided that there were no downsides for me, only for Dante.
"Senior Barberini, your son locked me in a cell without water for I don't know how many hours."
Enzo's face went still. His eyes bore into mine. After a moment, he said, "Go on." His voice was very different. Dangerous.
"His intention was to force me to pass my powers to him in exchange for my life."
He absorbed this, his eyes hard. "But, you didn't. Clearly."
"No. But I'm ashamed to say I would have. The pain was beyond anything anyone can imagine. I was being burned alive but I was rescued. By your niece Federica, and someone you knew as a boy - Rafaele Dimaro."
His eyes telegraphed surprise but he didn't say anything for a while. Then, "You survived a burning. Do you know what that means?"
"My insides are charred beyond all recognition?"
He ignored my joke. "I know it doesn't look like it, because you were forced against your will, but Dante did you a favour. Magi who survive a burning are far more powerful than those who don't. They have better control, can handle more heat and more energy. They don't have to live with the constant pain. Basil can tell you more about how it works. I don't understand very good. Nic said there are few magi who survive, and most don’t even try to burn. He wanted to do it but I would never allow it."
My respect for Enzo grew. A burning would have made Nic more powerful, but even though Enzo could have benefited from Nic's increased power, he wouldn't let his employee take the risk.
"What happened to Nic?"