A Clockwork Fairytale (25 page)

He unstoppered the flask containing the cursed gold and removed it by holding the uncontaminated chain. He dangled it in front of his face and smiled. Melba had already asked him if he’d seen her lost Earth Blessing. Perhaps she would be so grateful when he
found
the precious token from her young monk that she would forgive him for being angry with her.

Chapter Nineteen

Silver bites!

—Southern saying

Still buzzing with excitement from seeing Turk, Melba ran into her bedroom and threw herself down on her bed with a squeal. She hugged a cream silk pillow and unfolded the note he’d given her. Just the sight of Turk’s handwriting sent a shiver of delight through her as she imagined him sitting at his desk in the library at Waterberry House composing a letter to her.

My dear little Star,

It was never my intention to hurt you. Please forgive me for not being honest with you. I wanted to tell you that I was a monk, but your low opinion of the Shining Brotherhood stopped me from admitting it.

You see, the Brothers are my only family. I was shipwrecked when I was young and washed up on the coast of Royal Malverne Isle. I survived on the trash barges for nearly a year before the Shining Brotherhood rescued me and took me to the seminary at the monastery. So it was natural I should stay with them and become a monk.

I know you were upset that I accepted the reward for your return, but please believe I took you to your father because I thought it was best for you. I grew up without my parents so I wanted to see you restored to your father. The reward coin will be used to found a refuge for the trash tykes in your name.

I shall take pleasure from watching you blossom into the beautiful princess you were born to be.

Your humble servant, Turk

Tears ran down Melba’s cheeks as she reread the note, absorbing all the details. She tried to imagine Turk as a poor little boy left alone to survive. He would have come up from the south on a merchant brig. Over the years, he must have wondered about his family and his origins just as she had wondered about hers. She had far more in common with him than she’d thought.

How could her smart, clean, wonderful-smelling Turk have lived as a filthy trash tyke? Melba hugged the letter and starlight stone to her heart. Seeing him today had only made the ache of missing him worse. She loved him and if she couldn’t marry Turk, she didn’t want to marry anyone.

He hadn’t really chosen to be a monk. Fate had made him one. If she could persuade him to leave the Shining Brotherhood, she was sure she could talk her father into agreeing to their marriage. Her father was kind and he wanted her to be happy. She would have to hide Turk’s past from the king, though, and pretend he was a real nob. However much her father loved her, he would never allow her to marry a man who had been a trash tyke.

A knock sounded and Melba hastily wiped her eyes on the sheet. “Yes.”

Madam Borrelli put her head around the door. “The Royal Victualler is here to see you, ma’am.” A tiny frown flitted across the woman’s face. “If you’re not feeling well, ma’am, I’ll tell him to come back later.”

Melba hauled in a huge breath and swallowed the tightness in her throat. All she wanted to do was lie on her bed and daydream about Turk, but if she sent Vittorio away without speaking to him, it would only make him angrier. She needed to smooth things over and persuade him that Turk was a friend, not a threat. “I’ll come out. Thank you.”

The woman hesitated for a moment as if she would say more, then inclined her head and backed out of the room. After hiding her letter and starlight stone in the tiny drawer of her dressing table, Melba checked her face in her mirror and smoothed down her dress.

Then she peeped out into her private sitting room. Madam Borrelli had left the suite, as she always did when Vittorio visited. For once, Melba wished the old crow had stayed. Vittorio had his back to her as he stood staring out of the window overlooking the city with his hands clasped behind him. What sort of a mood was he in now?

As she entered, he turned and smiled. “Melba, forgive me for speaking harshly to you. I was so angry with that scoundrel who tried to take advantage of you that I lost my temper.”

“Turk ain’t no scoundrel. We was only talking,” she said annoyed by the way he assumed the worst of Turk. Vittorio came forward and reached for her hands as if she hadn’t spoken. She stepped back, avoiding his touch to make him listen to her. “Tell your men to leave off searching for Turk. He ain’t no threat to me. He were the one who discovered me and brought me to the Palace.”

Violence flashed in the depths of Vittorio’s eyes. “The king has entrusted your security to me, ma’am. I shall take whatever steps I deem necessary to ensure your safety.” In other words, she was wasting her breath. He was going to make Turk pay for running rings around his useless bluejackets.

She turned aside with a jab of anger at herself. If she hadn’t sent the angry note and instead had set up a meeting with Turk, he wouldn’t have had to risk speaking with her in public.

“I wanted to do something to make amends for losing my temper.” Vittorio angled his head to see her face and smiled. “Since we arrived back from the marketplace, I have been questioning the staff about the gold Earth Blessing you lost.”

“My Earth Blessing...” Her attention jumped back to him with an almost painful jolt of anticipation. “Have you found it?”

With a mischievous twitch of his lips, he pulled a small blue silk bag from his pocket and held it out. “I certainly have.”

Her annoyance faded. Although he had an ulterior motive to make her like him, she was still grateful he had gone to so much trouble for her. “Thank you, Vitto. Thank you.”

She grabbed the bag from him, yanked open the top, and pulled out the Earth Blessing. Her sick sense of guilt at losing Turk’s gift lifted. The metal glinted dully, oddly tarnished. But she was just relieved to have the keepsake back. A long sigh of relief hissed between her lips as she slipped the chain over her head and dropped her precious link to Turk inside her bodice to rest against her heart.

“I thought you’d be pleased,” he said. “I know you were disappointed to lose it.” She nodded distractedly, her mind returning to Turk’s safety. If Vittorio kept hounding Turk, she would ask her father to intervene. But that must be a last resort. If she hoped to marry Turk, she didn’t want her father believing he was a troublemaker.

She had to think of a safe place where she and Turk could meet regularly. In the meantime, she wanted to find out more about his past.

“Have you ever been to the trash barges, Vitto?”

His eyebrows snapped down. “Has someone been talking about me?”

“You? No. It’s just that I ain’t never seen them.”

“You haven’t missed much, Melba.”

“I want to visit the trash barges.”

“I beg your pardon.” Vittorio stared at her as if she had lost her mind.

“Will you take me out to South Spit Marshes tomorrow?” she asked.

The color drained out of Vittorio’s face. He shook his head slowly. “It’s not a suitable place for a princess. Your father will not allow you to go.”

“Then don’t tell him.” Melba didn’t want to upset her pa, but she needed to see where Turk had lived and understand what he had gone through to make him who he was now.

***

Vittorio wanted to punish Master Turk in public to demonstrate what happened to people who crossed him. But Melba was obviously infatuated with the young monk and would not take kindly to Vittorio tossing him down The Well. He must be cautious and not let his need for revenge jeopardize his future. He would have to get rid of the blaggard quietly.

As midnight approached, the second circle was silent. All the hardworking professional people of Malverne Isle lay asleep in their beds. Vittorio opened the door to the chapel at the monastery and stepped lightly across the mosaic floor. As he had expected, the chapel was empty at this late hour. When he reached the back wall, he used the key he retained from his days as a monk to unlock a secret door behind a tapestry. He slipped through into the private chapel used by the monks where he had often prayed to the Great Earth Jinn himself in years gone by. This smaller chapel was also empty. The Brothers were early to bed and early to rise.

He let himself out into the monastery gardens and followed the familiar serpentine path through the shrubs and flower borders to reach the opposite side of the enclosure. Pausing for a moment at the bottom of some steps, he stared up at the row of doors along the balcony where the senior monks had their rooms. On numerous occasions when he was a trainee, he had loitered here and watched his father’s door, longing to be invited into the aloof man’s sanctuary. By the time he graduated to be a monk, he had given up hope of his father ever acknowledging him.

He trod silently up the steps and traversed the balcony to the far end. Turning the handle, he pushed open the last door. The Brothers were so secure in their belief that nobody would dare enter their compound that they didn’t even lock their doors at night.

His father’s sitting room was almost in darkness, lit only by a faint glow through the window. Vittorio ignited a gas lamp above the desk and stared around at the simple furnishings. He reluctantly admitted that apart from his father’s taste for women, the man was a good Primate. But that did not excuse him for ignoring his paternal responsibilities.

Vittorio went to the only other door off the room and cracked it open. The soft sound of snoring filled the darkness. When he pushed the door wide, enough light filtered through to reveal the gray-haired man asleep in a narrow monk’s cot. The room’s furnishings were sparse and plain, the only decoration an Earth Blessing hung on the wall over the bed.

After lighting a gas lamp, Vittorio retreated to a shadowy corner, leaned a shoulder against the wall, and crossed his arms. “Wake up, old man.”

Gregorio’s breath hitched and his eyes cracked open. “Who’s there?”

Vittorio remained silent while Gregorio squinted into the shadows and struggled to sit up. “Whoever you are, show yourself,” the old man demanded irritably.

His father showed no fear even though an intruder could kill him easily. With a reluctant surge of respect, Vittorio stepped forward into the light.

“
You
,” Gregorio breathed, his bright blue eyes narrowing. “What do you want, you scoundrel?”

Vittorio’s admiration disappeared beneath a wave of unspoken recriminations. “What?” he said in feigned surprise, “no friendly greeting for one of your family?”

“
You
are not part of my family,” Gregorio snapped back. “Where did you get that ridiculous idea?”

Vittorio pulled off a boot to expose six toes. The color drained from his father’s face. “The day my mother left me at the seminary, she told me I had Ferilli feet and that you were my father. You’re lucky none of the other Brothers realized the significance of my extra toes.”

Gregorio glared at him as if he had grown extra toes just to spite him. “If you have known all this time, why did you wait until now to confront me?”

“I was in awe of you at first.” Vittorio laughed bitterly, remembering his childish hopes when he’d first arrived at the seminary. “I expected you to behave like a father. When you ignored me, I tried to impress you and catch your attention. Eventually, I stopped caring what you thought.”

“So why come here now?” Gregorio snapped.

“Believe me, it is not for a father-son reunion. No, I’m giving you the chance to deal with your spy Turk. Or I will.”

“Turk is his own man. How do you expect me to control him?”

“Slit his throat and bury him in the monastery garden for all I care. Just get rid of him.”

Gregorio slid his legs off the side of the bed and scrambled to his feet. Although he was old and dressed only in a nightgown, he still stood straight and proud—too proud. The old man didn’t know when to back down. He advanced on Vittorio, his blue eyes like chips of ice. “I do not take orders from the likes of you.”

Once Vittorio had been intimidated by Gregorio’s haughty disdain, but those days were long gone. Vittorio grasped the front of his father’s nightgown and yanked him closer, his frail body offering little resistance. “I’m what you made me, old man—the bastard son of a delusional fool who abdicated not only his throne but also responsibility for the woman betrothed to him.”

“How dare you speak to me in such a manner?” Gregorio struggled for release and raised a hand, but Vittorio caught his wrist before the blow landed and squeezed the old man’s frail bones until he winced in pain.

“Get rid of your pet trash tyke or I’ll expose you for the dishonest womanizer you are. The Shining Brotherhood will throw you out, and I can’t see the king taking you back into the royal family after the way you walked out on him all those years ago. You’ll lose everything.”

The harsh sound of Gregorio’s breath filled the tense silence; then he forced a laugh. “If you blacken my name, I’ll tell everyone that you’re my bastard son. I’ll drag you down with me.”

Vittorio’s anger surged up in a burning torrent. He jerked Gregorio’s wrist down and twisted it behind his back. “Don’t threaten me, old man, or I’ll rack your body with a Foul Jinn. You saw the baker, Maddox. Do you want to end up like him?”