The Painted War (8 page)

‘You  …  You think you know?' Saralinda said. ‘You mean he's  …  Did someone say something to you? Does  …  does
he
know?'

Bianca frowned. That didn't sound right. Her mother knew the old Duke was dead. ‘Um – it's just something the Baron said. He was talking about La Luminosa and Oscurita and he said that you came to visit La Luminosa once. He said you'd come on a  …  diplomatic mission to see the old Duke. Catriona's father.' She tried to keep her words neutral, not wanting to say outright ‘was he my father too?' but not wanting to risk being unclear either.

‘Oh, Bianca!' Saralinda's oddly blue eyes lit up with understanding. ‘No. I know what you're thinking. I'm so sorry you had to hear about it like that. I did meet your father on that trip. The Duke was  …  very kind. He was a good friend to me. And to your father.'

Bianca smiled. ‘Thank you. But please, Mother, don't leave me guessing like this!'

Saralinda paused, deep in thought, and Bianca held her breath. In the sudden hush, Bianca heard something odd  …  It was a sound like trickling water, like the sound of rainwater the morning after a heavy storm, making its way from the roofs and gutters of La Luminosa down to the canals and the sea.

Is there a leaking sink?
Bianca wondered.

‘My dear Bianca, I don't even know for certain if he's still alive, let alone living in La Luminosa,' Saralinda said. ‘I really think it would be a better idea for us to talk this through in person, when all  … ' She hesitated. ‘What is that noise?'

‘Can you hear it too? There's something dripping in here,' Bianca said, looking around to try and find the source of the sound.

‘Dripping? Oh no –'

A short, piercing shriek split the air in the studio and Bianca almost fell off her stool. She looked up to see Lucia backing away from one of the easels that still held paintings di Lombardi had started and never completed. Water was dribbling slowly out from underneath the white sheet that'd been draped over the painting. Bianca searched the wall behind it and the skylight up above for any sign of a leak, but there was none. The water was coming from the easel itself.

‘I'm sorry, Bianca, I have to wake up,' said Saralinda. ‘I have to do something about this. I love you!'

‘About what?' Bianca gasped. ‘What's going on?'

But the picture had closed its eyes and stopped moving. Saralinda was gone.

Bianca watched as Rosa squared her shoulders and stepped up to the painting, tugging the white sheet off it and jumping back quickly. The painting was a street scene, with a few tall houses looming over a steep road where a pedlar sold hot coffee from a cart and children played with a pair of wooden knights on horseback. And water was pouring from the doors and windows of all the houses, trickling down the street and out of the bottom of the picture, splashing down on the wooden floor of di Lombardi's studio.

Bianca twisted the paintbrush key in the lock, tugged open the door to the secret passages and leapt through, only to yelp and almost slip when her feet splashed down in a shallow puddle of water.

‘What?' she gasped, glancing up and down the passage. The painted stone floor was covered in water. It reflected the flickering light of the endlessly burning torches that lined the walls. ‘What is happening?' Bianca hitched up her skirts and, after a moment's thought, slipped off her thin canvas shoes.

Marco paused in the doorway while he took his shoes off too. ‘Something somewhere must have sprung a leak.'

‘Should we get out of here?' Rosa asked, peering through behind them.

‘Let's get back to the palace,' Cosimo agreed. ‘If the passages get flooded out we could be trapped in here.'

Cosimo and Lucia led the apprentices warily into the soaking passages and through the magical door that led to their quarters in the palace. They both reluctantly agreed to let Bianca and Marco continue towards the secret entrance near the throne room to report events to the Duchess. But not before Cosimo gave Bianca a stern warning: ‘Just remember your place, Bianca. Even though you might be right about the threat from Oscurita, the running of La Luminosa should be left to its Duchess –
not
an apprentice painter.'

Bianca nodded her understanding before hurrying off down the passage to the turning and looking both ways, curling her toes in the cold, slightly grubby water. ‘It's all one puddle – I bet this is the same water that's leaking through the door in the painting in the studio.'

Marco pulled a face at the slightly twisted logic. ‘We need to tell the Duchess quickly.'

‘I plan to tell everyone!' Bianca said, splashing down the corridor, looking for the closest door that would get them into the palace. ‘This could ruin every magical painting in the city! Half of them probably already have some water damage. We have to find the leak and get it closed, quick.'

She opened the door that led out into the old Duke's closed-up study, and jumped down from the painting carefully so as not to let the puddle in the passages get any closer to the door. The painted big cats in the exotic garden paced back and forth as they always did, and Bianca looked at them with her heart pounding. Could they stop this before the water reached the door of this mural and started to wash the lion and the tiger away?

The palace was quiet and dim. For Bianca, who could happily walk the dark streets of Oscurita, the golden glow of the night lamps in the corridors was more than enough light to see by, but Marco walked into a low table and nearly upset an intricate golden clock. Bianca caught it and glanced at the face. No wonder the palace was so quiet – it was past midnight. She'd lost all track of time.

‘Who'll be awake at this hour?' Marco asked. ‘Or who can we wake up to deal with a leak inside a painting?'

Bianca thought for a second. ‘Captain Raphaeli?' she suggested. ‘It might be a crime, possibly, and it's
definitely
a hazard. Plus, he's always believed our crazy ideas so far  … '

‘Good idea,' said Marco, and led the way down the gently curving steps towards the main entrance hall of the palace and the doors out to the courtyard and the barracks.

But when Bianca reached the bottom of the steps, she grabbed Marco's arm. ‘Listen! Voices – coming from the throne room.' She frowned at him, trying to imagine any good reason that the throne room would be full of people at this hour.

They hurried along the corridor, their still-wet feet slapping on the tiled floor, until the throne room came into view. Bright light spilled out into the corridor and the sound of raised, worried voices grew louder.

The guards gave Bianca's slightly wet dress an odd look, but still nodded her and Marco through. Bianca strode into the room, saw the Duchess, Secretary Franco, Captain Raphaeli and a handful of other advisors and courtiers standing around looking concerned but unharmed, and let out a sigh of relief. ‘Duchess, you're awake! I'm so glad. Have you seen any of the flooding?'

‘Do you know what caused it?' Marco asked, glancing up at Secretary Franco.

Duchess Catriona gave Bianca a frustrated, confused look. ‘What? What flooding?'

‘The water! It's damaging the paintings. I don't know where it's coming from!'

‘Bianca,' Catriona said, with a stern frown, ‘I'm not really worried about a leak right now!'

‘But there is water in the passages,' Bianca said. ‘It's almost ankle deep. If we don't do something soon, the water's going to reach even more of the doors and hundreds of paintings could be ruined!'

‘You – you burst in,' Secretary Franco said slowly, ‘to the throne room of La Luminosa, in the middle of the night, and demand that the Duchess do something about some paintings getting wet? Am I correct?'

It did sound a bit silly when he put it like that. ‘I wouldn't say demand,' Bianca said. ‘I'm just saying  …  we saw the flood so we came right here.'

‘With no thought for proper protocol!' snapped Franco.

‘But  …  the paintings are important,' said Bianca.

Franco threw up his arms in frustration.

‘They are!' shouted Bianca. With every second, more damage was done.

‘Bianca, the Baron is gone,' Duchess Catriona said.

Bianca blinked. ‘Gone? Escaped?'

‘Vanished,' said Captain Raphaeli, glowering at nobody in particular. ‘In the middle of the night. Him and the entire Oscuritan delegation. They were under heavy guard. We had removed all the magical paintings from their rooms, so they wouldn't be able to slip back without us knowing. But when a guard checked their rooms tonight they found a charcoal outline of a door drawn on the wall, hidden behind a curtain.'

‘You let them have charcoal?' Bianca said. ‘But that's how they escaped last time!'

‘We searched them,' Captain Raphaeli said firmly. ‘But they must have smuggled some in somehow.'

‘Indeed. So, I'm sorry, but this  …  whatever it is with the paintings can wait, Bianca,' said Duchess Catriona.

‘Oh!' Bianca's mouth dropped open. ‘I bet they're connected! I bet that flooding the passages is part of his plan!'

‘Guards,' said Secretary Franco, without any malice in his voice. ‘Please remove these children and escort them back to their own beds. They've already heard more than they should.'

‘There's no need for that, Secretary Franco,' Duchess Catriona said.

‘Yes,' Franco said to the two guards, who'd stepped forwards and were hovering behind Bianca and Marco, trying not to look uncertain, ‘there is a need. Please, take hold of them and take them out of the palace.'

Bianca tried to dodge away but she didn't move fast enough – the guard closest to her seized her by the arms. Bianca wriggled and tried to break his grip, but he held firm. Marco's guard made a grab for him but he had an acrobat's reflexes and dived out of the way.

Franco's veneer of calm broke, and he dropped his head into his hands. ‘Your Highness, if you allow this girl to remain here, wittering about preserving paintings at a time like this, you'll seem a fool – no, you'll
be
a fool. Bianca seems to think saving a few scribbles is more important than preventing a war. I won't stand by and let her cloud your judgement.'

‘Bianca,' said Duchess Catriona, ‘you know I care about the paintings, but there's something much more serious going on right now. It's the Baron! I'd have thought you'd want us to have all our attention on finding him and stopping whatever it is he's doing?'

‘I'm telling you, I think they're connected!' Bianca complained, planting her bare feet on the floor and refusing to be dragged away. On the other side of the room, Marco feinted to the left and then stepped to the right.

‘Come here, you  … ' said his guard, and then suddenly his feet slipped out from under him and he fell on his back in a painful-sounding clang and clank of armour. ‘What the  … ?' The guard reached back to push himself up, and his hand came away from the floor wet.

‘Look!' Bianca said, pointing at the painting just above where the guard had slipped. It was a scene of Santa Emilia looking at the stars through her faraway glass. Behind Emilia there was a door, and flowing under the door was a steady stream of dirty water. It dripped and dribbled down the wall, leading to a visibly spreading pool of nasty brownish water on the floor.

Bianca's guard dropped her arms. Secretary Franco's wrinkled face went slack. He looked like he was going to have a fit.

‘It's all of them,' said Captain Raphaeli, turning to look around the room. Every painting was leaking now, water streaming from the edges and corners of the paintings.

Duchess Catriona turned to Bianca, a slightly panicky look in her eyes. ‘I'm sorry, Bianca,' she said. ‘I should have listened –'

There was a sound like fabric ripping and Bianca looked up just in time to jump back out of the way of the tide of brown water that came crashing out of one of the paintings. It swept across the floor and soaked the feet of several of the Duchess's advisors. Duchess Catriona herself hitched up her skirts and quickly climbed the steps to stand beside the throne on its raised platform. Bianca stared, open mouthed, as she saw right through the painting and into the magical passage beyond. The water was several inches deep and flowing fast.

Bianca was too worried to say ‘I told you so', but she caught Secretary Franco's eye as he looked up from the soggy, ruined edges of his sunshine-yellow robe, and shrugged.

The meeting was quickly relocated upstairs, to the small council chambers near the Duchess's secretaries' offices. The leaking paintings in the council chambers had been caught quickly and removed, and were now sitting out in the courtyard in a growing stack of wet art. It was so upsetting to see the colours beginning to run and pool in brown puddles under the canvases that Bianca had stopped and tried to tilt and stack them so that the water didn't do so much damage as it ran out. It was a losing battle, though, and Marco had had to drag her away. He'd given her a hug, and then left the palace to find his father's harlequin troupe.

The council chambers were probably the driest rooms in the palace, but even here the woven rug on the floor squished underfoot.

‘Right,' said Duchess Catriona as she settled into a chair at the head of the council table. She was surrounded by guards who stood around her like a solid semi-circle of flesh and metal, and Captain Raphaeli stood by the door to the room, glaring at anyone who dared approach. ‘My first act of this emergency session is this: Lady Bianca di Lombardi of Oscurita is now my official advisor on matters of art and magic.' She gave Secretary Franco a piercing look as she said this, and then tilted her head as if waiting to see if any of the courtiers or advisors would argue back. None of them did, and Bianca stifled a smile. At least whatever happened now, Franco wouldn't have any excuse to try to throw her out again.

A long parade of advisors, secretaries and servants began to file in, and Bianca sat with the Duchess and listened to their reports of the destruction, desperately trying to think of some way of sealing the passages just for now, or finding out where the water was coming from.

‘The palace is full of water and mud, Your Highness,' the Chief Housekeeper, Mistress Paganini, sighed, wringing her wet cap between her hands as if she felt personally responsible for the mess. ‘Every able body we have is up and working. We have a bucket chain bailing out water from the throne room and every painting that can be moved to the courtyard will be soon.'

‘You must lay them down properly!' Bianca said, her heart twisting at the thought of the paintings being piled up any old way. ‘Please, we've got to save as many of them from damage as we can.'

‘We'll try,' said Mistress Paganini, but she looked uneasy. ‘There are just so many  … '

‘Thank you, Mistress Paganini – I know you'll do your best,' said Duchess Catriona. The Chief Housekeeper bowed out and was immediately replaced by the Master of the Canals who said that the levels were steady but the gutters were in danger, and then Archbishop di Sarvos, who was in a state of utter panic about the churches – they were flooded, almost without exception, and some might not survive the damage.

Bianca's heart felt as if it was sinking deeper and deeper into the mucky waters with every word.

‘Your Highness, news from the museum – just as we expected, it is a disaster,' said Secretary Cavassoni, face red and skirts sopping wet. ‘The water is so high we were forced to drill holes in the doors before we could even get in. It's a catastrophe.'

‘Are any of the paintings salvageable?' Bianca asked in a trembling voice.

‘If we can stop the water soon – perhaps, a few,' said Cavassoni. ‘But the damage is  …  significant. Especially to the work of Master di Lombardi.' Bianca felt her face crumble and tried to swallow back the tears. Duchess Catriona reached across the table and grabbed her hand.

‘We will fix this,' she promised. ‘Somehow, we will.'

Bianca wished she could believe her. She thought of all the paintings that would never be the same again, all the beautiful works of art that had been ruined forever, her grandfather's life's work  …  She had to press her sleeves against her eyes for a second, but when she looked up again her eyes were dry.

After Secretary Cavassoni had gone, there was a lull in the flood of news and reports from the city, and Duchess Catriona sagged in her chair and called for Captain Raphaeli.

‘This is an act of war,' he said simply. ‘I don't know how the Baron has done it, but there's no question in my mind that it's his doing.'

Bianca sat bolt upright and her jaw dropped. ‘We saw him,' she whispered.