The Painted War (2 page)

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Authors: Imogen Rossi

BOOK: The Painted War
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Chapter Two

Hurrying footsteps echoed behind Bianca as she stormed along the corridor. She expected Cosimo to be following her from the throne room but a brief, involuntary smile lit her face when she turned and saw Marco instead.

‘What's happening?' he asked, drawing level with her. ‘Did Edita invade? Is the Duchess all right?'

Bianca sighed. ‘There was no invasion – not yet. Half the court thinks Cosimo made the paintings do that as a joke. And the Duchess  … ' She shook her head. ‘We're in terrible danger, and I don't know how to make them see it!'

‘Take them through to Oscurita,' Marco suggested. ‘Show them the passages – one by one, if you have to!'

‘We can't risk it,' Bianca muttered. ‘All we can do is keep looking for ways to use Master di Lombardi's inventions to fight Edita. Then when she does invade, we'll be able to help.'

Marco whistled under his breath. ‘Well, we've found some stuff –'

‘Lady Bianca, wait a moment,' called a voice. Bianca turned, and saw Captain Raphaeli hurrying down the corridor towards them. ‘A word, please.'

Bianca steeled herself for another ticking off. ‘Just  …  Just call me Bianca,' she said. ‘I'm not royalty here.'

‘Yes, My Lady,' said Raphaeli.

‘I was only trying to protect Duchess Catriona, you know,' she said. ‘I really thought –'

‘I know,' interrupted Raphaeli. ‘I believe you.'

Bianca blinked at him. ‘You do?'

The top part of Raphaeli's face was obscured by his gleaming golden helmet, but his eyes met hers and she could see the earnest, worried expression in them. ‘Can we talk?' the Captain asked again. He glanced at Marco.

‘Marco knows everything,' Bianca said.

Raphaeli gave her a short bow and opened a door to his left. It was an empty secretary's office, lined with shelves piled high with scrolls and books bound in leather and brass. Bianca and Marco went inside and Raphaeli closed the door before sighing and lifting off the golden helmet. He shook out his hair and placed the helmet down on top of a pile of books.

‘I believe your story  … ' Bianca wasn't expecting that. ‘Because I've met someone from Oscurita before.'

Bianca
really
wasn't expecting that. ‘Why do you know about it and the other courtiers don't?'

‘Because it was kept secret,' said Raphaeli. ‘The courtiers who did know about it were jailed by the Baron da Russo when the Duchess's father died. But I was just a young legionary in the palace guard then. I don't think he knew I knew. I wasn't supposed to.'

‘When did this happen?' Marco asked.

‘It was when the old Duke was coming out of mourning for Catriona's mother.' Raphaeli's hand strayed from the sword at his belt to his throat, twisting a silver chain that was tucked into the neck of his tunic. He didn't seem to know he was doing it. ‘I was in the Duke's guard when the painting opened,' he said. ‘It was nothing like what happened today. The door in the picture just swung open and there were people on the other side! It was incredible  …  A whole world, just beyond the paintings.' Bianca smiled a little, remembering her first time in the secret passages.

‘A diplomatic party had come from the Dark City, to forge an alliance with La Luminosa,' said Raphaeli. ‘Master di Lombardi was leading them, with an apprentice and a few other nobles. They spoke to the Duke, left quietly, and never came back. Most of the Luminosan courtiers never knew who they really were.'

‘There are good and bad people in Oscurita, just like La Luminosa,' said Bianca with a half-smile. ‘
This
visit from Oscurita isn't going to be friendly – Edita's after conquest, not diplomacy. She fooled me once – I'm not going to be fooled again.' She met Raphaeli's eyes and clasped her hands together, ready to plead if she had to. ‘You
must
be vigilant, Captain. The whole city depends on it.'

‘I will,' said the Captain seriously. ‘I promise.' The silver chain sneaked out of his tunic as he turned to leave, and Bianca saw a golden ring on the chain. It was engraved with a twisting ivy pattern, which glinted as he walked away.

‘Bianca!' Domenico and Sebastiano looked up as Bianca and Marco opened the door to Master di Lombardi's secret workshop. Bianca sighed, relaxing a little bit just at the sight of the place. You could have fitted a small house inside the room easily, and almost every inch was taken up with workbenches and tools, paints and canvases, half-finished works of art and strange inventions. Brass, copper, glass and leather gleamed in the warm sunlight that flooded down into the room from the enormous skylight windows high above.

She could tell the three boys had been busy – half the drawers and cabinets were open, neat piles of notebooks and sketches were stacked on all the workbenches. Sebastiano was kneeling beside a large contraption with a glass dome and two seats inside – di Lombardi's Vehicle for Travelling Underneath the Canal Surface. Domenico was sitting in the cockpit of the flying machine, tinkering with its controls. Bianca hoped it could be made to work again – a flying machine might be their best advantage over the army of Oscurita.

‘I don't care if they think I'm a liar,' Bianca said once Marco had finished telling Domenico and Sebastiano what had happened. ‘I know the truth. Edita's going to invade. It's just a matter of when. And she's still got my mother, locked up in that terrible tower.' She scraped her hair back from her face and twisted it at the back of her neck nervously, remembering the dark, freezing Tower of Thorns. Its chill wind cut through the glassless windows and the razor-sharp metal spikes that stuck out could slice anyone who tried to climb to freedom out of the windows. ‘If Edita finds out we escaped the tower, my mother will be hidden away so the Resistance can't rescue her. She might even kill her. I've got to go back.'

Marco winced. ‘I don't know, Bianca. What if that's Edita's plan? What if she's luring you back into her clutches?'

Bianca shook her head. ‘What if she's not?' She turned to Domenico. ‘You and Seb keep looking for ways we can use the inventions to fight an invasion.'

Domenico climbed out of the flying machine and patted its wooden and copper surface. ‘You can rely on us, Bianca.' Sebastiano nodded.

‘All right.' Marco shrugged. ‘Let's go.'

‘No, stay here,' Bianca said. ‘Think about it – you're the only other person in La Luminosa who knows what Edita looks like.' Bianca rolled her shoulders back, steeling herself. ‘If my aunt does catch me, Duchess Catriona will need you.'

‘Well, that's bleak,' muttered Marco, but he didn't try to contradict her. He squeezed her shoulder. ‘Don't suppose I can persuade you not to go?'

Bianca shook her head.

‘All right. Find your mum and come straight back, OK?'

‘I will,' said Bianca, praying it would be that simple.

Bianca reached into the leather pouch at her belt and took out the paintbrush that Master di Lombardi had left to her. She stared at it for a moment. Since her Master had first pressed it into her hand she had discovered the secret passages, driven a flying machine, destroyed a fake duchess and discovered a whole other world where it was always night and she was a princess – and found out her master was really her own grandfather. All that, with the power of a very special paintbrush.

She held it close to her lips and whispered, ‘Hidden rooms, secret passages, second city.' The brush gave its familiar whirring and clicking, and the side of the handle slid away to let the small copper key fold out into place. She slid it into the lock and let herself out of di Lombardi's studio.

It didn't take Bianca very long to find the place in the secret passages where she had painted her way out of the Tower of Thorns – she'd recognise the only door she'd created anywhere.

She reached out and gripped the handle. The sensation was odd under her fingers – the handle felt strangely crumbly, like the stone wall it'd been painted onto, not the smooth, stiff texture of painted canvas that made up the rest of the secret passages.

With a gasped breath, she pulled it open and leaned through into the dark, cold tower cell on the other side.

For a moment, even with Bianca's sharp, half-Oscuritan eyesight, the room was so dark that she couldn't see if her mother was inside. But then there was a gasp and a light flared – a blue bolt of lightning, trapped in an orb of glass. Its cold, flickering light lit the face of the rightful Duchess Saralinda, sitting upright and alert on her plain bed. She leapt to her feet with the thunder lamp clutched in her hands, rushing across the sparse cell she had occupied for almost thirteen years.

‘Bianca,' said Saralinda, enfolding her in a tight hug. ‘You've come back!'

‘You've got to come with me,' Bianca said, her voice muffled in the sleeve of her mother's plain black gown. ‘Edita didn't invade through the paintings. I don't know what her plan is but you are in danger here!' She pulled away and met Saralinda's eyes. Her mother's face had gone soft and sad – she looked as if she was about to say she couldn't come back to La Luminosa. Bianca was ready for this. ‘You can stay in the secret passages between the paintings so that you won't be harmed by the Luminosian sunlight. Di Lombardi – I mean, Grandfather – he painted Duchess Catriona a special room to hide in, inside his workshop. You can stay there!'

Saralinda smiled, but it was a rueful smile, and she squeezed Bianca's hand as she did so.

Bianca's heart sank. ‘You won't come?'

‘I couldn't leave with you and my father thirteen years ago, and I'm not leaving now. I stayed to fight Edita's cruel reign. This is my city, Bianca, and it's still being ruled by a tyrant.'

Bianca felt a strange smile creep over her face. She wasn't happy, but she did feel proud. ‘You sound like Duchess Catriona,' she said.
Except less shouty
.

‘A duchess's duty is to fight for her people, no matter what.'

‘But can you really fight for them from this room?' Bianca pleaded. ‘You need to get out of here right now! If Edita  … ' She trailed off, trying desperately not to imagine Edita's temper breaking, her guards seizing Saralinda and dragging her to the window, the razor-sharp thorns, the long drop  … 

‘You're right,' said Saralinda, and Bianca blinked up at her.

‘Am I?'

‘I've been working with the Resistance, waiting for them to decide when the time is right to break me out and strike for the throne.' Bianca's mother had a strange twinkle in her eye. ‘I think that time is now. The time is right for me to rejoin my loyal subjects.'

Bianca pulled out the paintbrush key with a smile. Saralinda planted a brief, heartfelt kiss on Bianca's forehead and took the key from her hand.

‘Follow me,' Bianca's mother said, seizing a black woollen shawl and wrapping it around her shoulders. ‘We must be as quick and as quiet as shadows.'

Bianca felt a flush of warmth spreading over her from the place her mother had kissed her.

They started down the endless, spiralling stairs within the Tower of Thorns, and Bianca tried to breathe and tread as softly as she could. The only other sound was the whistling of the wind through the tiny slit windows and in the quiet her feet seemed to slap on the stone and her breath rasped in her throat. The stairs went on and on, around and around, until Bianca had no idea how far they'd gone. Saralinda was running her hand over the wall as they went. Bianca had assumed it was for balance, but suddenly her mother stopped and turned to the wall, stroking it with her palm.

‘Here,' she murmured. ‘It's here.'

Bianca stared at the wall. It looked like an ordinary wall, but Bianca had seen enough magic in painting to know never to trust her eyes.

Her mother's fingers found a tiny chink between the giant stone bricks in the wall, and she slipped the key in. It turned with a little
click
and part of the wall slid back with a sound like grinding, crumbling stone.

What surprised Bianca was that the hidden passage wasn't painted, or apparently magical at all – it was a real door built into the building. The dark space on the other side was a thin, gently sloping corridor made from the same dark stone as the rest of the castle.

‘Where does it go?' Bianca asked her mother.

‘Behind the barracks, into the castle itself.' Bianca let out a long breath. Saralinda put a steadying hand on her shoulder. ‘It'll be OK. I know where I'm going.'

‘Are there lots of these passages, then?' Bianca asked to take her mind off the idea of walking right past the barracks where Edita's soldiers slept.

‘All over the castle,' said Saralinda. ‘I know them all by heart – after all, I was Duchess once. And before that, I was a little girl who loved exploring,' she added, with a fond smile. She led the way into the corridor and slid the heavy stone door back into place behind them.

The darkness was almost total, and Bianca was very glad to feel Saralinda's hand slip into hers as they started down the incline.

‘Things were different back then,' Saralinda whispered. ‘It must be hard to imagine, but this place was so beautiful, full of laughter and music and art. The fireplaces burned a different colour in every room, and the choirs never stopped singing  … ' She stopped walking and turned back to Bianca. She could just make out the shape of her pale face and the grey streaks in her dark hair as she put her finger to her lips. Bianca nodded, and looked past Saralinda to see a flight of dark steps striped with thin beams of light.

As Saralinda led her carefully and silently down the steps, Bianca paused to put her eye to a tiny hole in the wall. She could see down into a firelit chamber lined with neat, low beds and racks on the walls that looked like they might hold spears, swords and axes. The room was deserted.

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