Fascinated, I stared into the swirling darkness above the water. Long gray tentacles stretched out, so huge you couldn't wrap your hands around them, studded with pale suckers. Others flickered between them, whip-thin, with occasional blue sparks. They touched the stones and walls of the crypt, wondering, trying to remember something. And then they found the Count and me.

One black tentacle wrapped around my wrist, the other wrapped caught my leg above the knee. I shivered at its cold slippery touch. The sea guest studied me, tasted me as well as the rocks, the water, and everything around me. He could easily break my bones if he pressed hard enough.

I was afraid to touch his mind, but I felt an orange glow of interest, a lazy curiosity ... from which gradually, like a tumor, grew a scarlet anger. Don Arsago laughed triumphantly beside me, his laughter echoing in the cramped space of the crypt.

And then he screamed.

I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away, but I couldn't close my mind from the sea creature, so I saw…

... a purple-gray snake clutch don Arsago across his torso, breaking his ribs…

... dozens and hundreds of suckers dug into his flesh, sucking in the skin so that it burst, spraying hot blood…

The Count twitched, his nails tore slippery tentacles, trying to peel that living jelly off.

I could feel don Arsago's agony and rage as my own. The last thing I saw was a screaming face, a glossy black slick crawling over it, as if it wanted to suck it up, swallow it forever.

They were interwoven into a unified whole. Don Arsago shouted – the visitor from the sea drank him alive, being sated with someone else's blood, someone else's feelings, someone else's life. I could only watch numbly, knowing it would be my turn afterwards. There was no fear. I was paralyzed by indifference. Suddenly I heard a movement, I caught a flash of a sword out with the corner of my eye, a shining golden blade in the light of the lantern. I recognized a familiar figure – and that turned blood in my veins into ice water with horror. But it blew away my stupor, too.

"No! Sandro, don't!”

I rushed forward, pulling myself out of the tentacles. I wouldn't make it, I knew. The flash of the sword crisscrossed the dark mass, making the water boil. The monster's scarlet fury was replaced by a white blaze of astonishment. The Count's body was washed ashore. The gray tentacles snaked into the water, setting me free. Then its thin, sparkling tendrils shot up, showering us with stone chips from the low ceiling. Two of them whipped on the chest of Alessandro. He fell near the water, black spots swelling rapidly on his white shirt. The water stirred, eagerly licking his poisoned the blood off.

"Wait! That`s enough!”

I plunged into the water, an inch from the slimy mass that looked like a tangle of snakes. A thick tentacle rose from the water, its ugly thick appendages moving slowly. It didn`t have eyes, but I could swear it saw me. Somehow.

“Stop it! The man who`s called you is dead! He's gone! I won't let you kill this one. Go away!”

It didn't touch me, but its very presence felt like great pressure. Its will shone through me, pressing on all sides, crushing my mind, which quickly melted like a burning candle. It was so different from our “talks” with Karita or Scarpa. I could see their minds clearly, while this mind was unfolding in front of me layer by layer, like a flower. Like a clockwork mechanism in which new and new gears revolved. One layer of mind, then another layer, and another, and one more…

This visitor to the crypt was only a scout, a small drop of slime with a will of its own. I saw through it another creature, unimaginably huge, as old as the world itself. Its dwelling was neither in our shallow lagoon, pitted with fairways, nor in the cozy warmth of the Long sea – no, it was much farther away, and yet it saw me, if the word is appropriate here, for I now realized that sight was only one of the possibilities. It slumbered somewhere in the depths where the sun never penetrated, like in the cold emptiness of celestial space. It really looked like space with dozens, hundreds of living constellations, floating nearby and scattering the gloom.

I had heard that many marine creatures could radiate light, but now I saw it with my own eyes. In the eternal cool darkness, the pearly strings of sea worms writhed, the luminous clusters of jellyfish floated majestically. Cuttlefish winked invitingly, luring marriage partners. The mouth of some underwater hunter opened silently, aiming at the glowing lights.

The ancient colossus slept. Its memories floated in front of me, heavy and slow, like a pod of whales. He remembered the time when our lagoon was just a dreary chain of underwater shoals and muddy islets overgrown with reeds. It was as if I had been together with it when it had risen to the sun and stepped ashore, causing part of the land to sink beneath the water. As I gazed with its enormous eyes at the strange expanse of blue and red, I realized that the deep, muddy gullies at the bottom of our lagoon had once been riverbeds, and that the bottom itself had once been dry land once. Thousands of years ago. Now the colossus was tossing and turning again, slowly waking up. He felt a vague uneasiness and a vague, inviting longing. With a tiny spark of my own fading consciousness, I knew that if it rose to the surface a second time, Venetta would be swept away by the sea waves forever…

I was terrified. The invasion of that powerful mind was impossible to resist. Choking with panic, I tried to pull myself together, to hold some scraps of my own thoughts, tiny shreds of memories... but it was all in vain! Suddenly, just as my head was about to burst, it let go. I felt so weak that I fell into the icy black water. The cold burned my limbs... or were they called "hands"?

Heavy tentacles floated very close to my face, then they reluctantly pulled away, leaving dirty traces behind, like diluted ink, and a sharp smell. It was leaving. Whatever it was, it was going away!

The guest left a resonant hollow in the crypt and in my head, too. I stood up blindly, blinking at the bright spots floating in front of my eyes. Beside me, half in the water, there was a man. I didn't remember who it was, but I knew that if the water covered his face, he would suffocate. And I didn't want to. Hobbling on unruly legs, I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled.

Slowly, my memory returned. I remembered the old tower covered with white gulls. The red roofs of the monastery and the sounds of the bell floating over the island ... the Domes of Venetta reflected in the glass lagoon ... Meeting with my "brother" and the strange gray-eyed man on the pier of the Granacci house. Alessandro! The last events in the crypt flashed before my eyes again. When I finally realized what had happened, it seemed like a knife stroke. I wanted to save Julia – and I ended up killing the person I loved most.

My hands were numb from the cold. "It`s useless, he`s dead,” came a poisonous thought. "Just leave him here."

"No way," I hissed through my teeth, and then I heard him saying "Julia..." That quiet word revived me and gave me strength. I burst into tears.

"I`m not Julia. My name is Francesca," I sobbed. Although my confession meant nothing now. But I didn't want Alessandro to call me by a fake name anymore.

I saw the corner of his mouth twitch in a smile.

“I'll remember. Now run ... the guards ... will come soon.”

I sat down beside him on the stones and brushed his hair back from his face. His hand, which I was trying to warm in my own, moved feebly. He wasn`t going to die. And that raised my spirits a little bit. If only I knew more about wounds! When I pulled him to a dry spot, the blood flowed harder, mixed with something sticky-black. Most marine creatures are poisonous as a viper in the height of summer. What did I have to do with the wound – bandage it? Or was it better to let the poison come out of the body with the blood?

First of all, I unconsciously wanted to get it as far away from the water as possible. You never knew who else would come out of there! Alessandro was very heavy, much heavier than me. Lifting him by the shoulders, I managed to move a couple more steps. And talk so that the silence didn`t seem so heavy and ominous.

“Why on earth did you attack him? Would you go against Horro itself with just a sword too?”

To my amazement, Sandro responded.

"Why not? It`s still more useful... than a bowl of olives.”

Not a very suitable time for jokes! But his attitude was reassuring. I had to bring Faletrus there as soon as possible. Wiping the sweat from my brows, I knelt before him again.

“Hold on. I'll get the doctor and come back to you!”

It was heartbreaking to leave him here, alone in the darkness, filled with hungry shadows, but we desperately needed help!

"No!” Alessandro squeezed my fingers, no harder than a child might, but I could sense his excitement. "It`s too dangerous... Run."

As if to confirm his words, there was a crash upstairs. I could hear a clang of metal on the stone. The guards must have realized that don Arsago had been gone too long and decided to check on him. I didn't know if they would venture down into the crypt. What did I have to do?!

The Count's corpse lay two paces away, in a pool of black blood, with broken bones and terrible wounds on the body, where the suckers of the sea guest had torn out pieces of flesh. Horro, Hydra and Dagon! If they found me here, I'd be in trouble. Even the Count's enemies, who`d thank God in their hearts for his death, wouldn`t fail to accuse me of vile sorcery and killing one of the Venettian greatest citizens. I'd be lucky if they just drowned me in Orfano instead of putting me in Piombi.

Pulcino drudged in his cage like a white furry reproach to me. If I were captured, he'd have a hard time, too. In fact, I was terrified of prison myself. Like the other chiamati, I had little fear of death, but the prison... the cramped, smelly cage, the abuse, the torture... even the thought of it was enough to like iron chains on my ankles.

"Now!" Sandro breathed.

Shaking off my stupor, I raced. Then I grabbed a stone, broke the lock on the cage and carefully took Pulcino out. He was all exhausted and wet, like a trembling ball of feathers. The noise on the stairs was coming closer, the sound of footsteps mixed up with loud voices. Orange torchlight flickered on the wall nearest the spiral staircase. Good thing there was another way out! I draped Alessandro's cloak over my shoulders and leaned in one last time to kiss his cold cheek.

“I'll be back.”

Of all the lies I'd told over the last few month, this one was the hardest.

***

A back door from the crypt led to an iron grate that overlooked a narrow canal at the back of the house. It wasn't even a side street, just a gap between dirty, peeling walls with even no windows. There were such nooks and crannies in Venetta that smelled of urine and ooze. Even the sun only came there for half an hour a day, not to mention a man. No one would want to stay here long, and I certainly wouldn't, too.

There was a torch burning on the wall and a two-oared skiff was tied to a lonely pole. It was dark now, the evening mist clinging to my skin like cold gray drops of sweat. There was an indistinct noise from the main canal. I guessed people were now flocking to the Three Griffins square to keep abreast of the news. So much the better, in a large crowd it would be easier to slip away! I set Pulcino carefully on the berth and began to insert the oars into the rowlocks. My hands were still weak and trembling and my head ached from our "conversation" with the sea guest.

"What`s the rush, witch?" I suddenly heard in my head, and someone`s chuckle shot my temple.

Damn that Scarpa! Groaning through my teeth, I looked up at the sky. Wasn`t that too much trouble for one night?! A thick, short tail splashed the water and mocked the boat, causing Pulcino to tremble, and I lost my balance and sat down. Really amused, Scarpa gave the skiff another flick of his tail, and the skiff spun helplessly like a whipping top. At any moment the guards might appear from behind the bars! I picked up my oar and climbed carefully to my feet, peering intently into the glossy blackness. "Well, come up, you bastard," I thought angrily, " I'll caress you with this oar you so that you won't collect your teeth!”

Suddenly, the water bubbled not far from us. Pesquatoro's square face appeared on the surface, looking rather puzzled, and then disappeared again, followed by a smooth gray arc of someone's back. Apparently, there was a big fight underneath. Pulcino and I looked at each other and decided it was good for us. It was time to get out of there!

Sitting on the berth, I managed to do a few strokes before we had to stop again. A shiny round head poked out of the water beside the skiff. My paddle almost grazed the creature's face! The long mouth with its rows of small triangular teeth seemed to smile; its dark eyes gleamed mysteriously in the darkness.

I froze with my mouth open. That was walluco, the sea horse! I'd never seen them so close. But it looked exactly the same as the old engravings pictured it: funny long face, strong muscular neck. The wallucos were like dolphins, but larger and much stronger. This "horse" with its sly face reminded me of the dragon on the wall of the church, which was trampled underfoot by Saint Viadora. He cocked his head to one side and snorted amiably. Though he had driven pesquatoro away, he did not seem to be interested in us as its snack. What was more, it even watched us with a sort of condescension.

I wondered how it got here? Walluco had become no fewer rarity than paurozos.

Then I realized that fate had given us a big chance. You couldn`t go far with the oars, and I didn`t doubt Scarpa was still following us. We could ride walucco if we could catch it! I was afraid to use chiamati, though, but I still had the piece of rope which I used to get down to the crypt. Without taking my eyes off the seahorse, I slowly unwound the rope, trying not to make any sudden movements. Then I made the loop at the end and lunged it forward.

We got him!

Surprisingly, the "horse" seemed to be waiting for that. He jerked so hard that the jolt sent me crashing to the bottom of the boat, hitting my elbow hard. To the right and left, two wings of spray sprouted. I clutched Pulcino to my chest with one hand and gripped the gunwale with the other. The skiff swung from side to side like a float. It seemed that if I let go of my fingers for a moment, I would fly overboard.

"Wait, wait, where are you going?"! I gasped as we skidded around the bend and nearly hit the mooring pole. The curses of the other boatmen followed us. It was all vividly reminiscent of the canal race on the Exile Day, but the situation was more dramatic now. I detached myself from the side of the boat and grabbed the oar, trying with all my strength to steer the boat straight and avoid anything that stuck or floated in the channel.

“Are you aiming at them on purpose?" I grumbled through my teeth as another mooring pole nearly smashed the oar to splinters.

Near the Argento Bridge walluco slowed down, giving me a little respite. Several gondolas and fishing boats were crowded here. Torches burned in the bows of the boats, making it seem as if a swarm of golden fireflies hovered restlessly over the water. There were excited, frightened voices. What was all the fuss about?

Suddenly I saw the familiar black cords, wreathed in bluish sparks. They shoot out of the water, feeling the wall of the nearest house. Then they caught the openwork railing of the balcony and tore it away, causing a shower of small stones. The screams on the canal grew louder, and someone screamed. In the middle of the canal people could see a glossy, slimy hump slowly coming up.

The unknown creature reminded me the one I had just "talked to" in the crypt. Maybe it was it. Or some cousin of it. In any case, I had no desire to resume the conversation. Gondolas and longboats shied away from the creature in different directions, like chickens from a fox in the poultry house. Our small boat was nearly drowned.

"To the shore, go to the shore, you stupid thing!" I shouted at walluco, though I didn`t expect it to understand my words.

There was a hitch in the channel because of the pandemonium. The boats collided, the shouts were heard, someone broke an oar with a crash. The water looked like a huge boiling caldron. I thought in despair that we could not get out of this mess, but the "horse" obviously had a burst of genius, as it turned abruptly to the pier. The wharf was a stone's throw away. I hesitated, hiding Pulcino under my cloak, and before I knew it, a shadow in a long, hooded cloak had silently appeared on the shore. The shadow stepped onto the wet boards and held out a hand. I startled back.

"Well, Hello, Francesca," the mysterious stranger said. “It took me a long time to find you."

The torches on the wharf shone at his back. But I could see his eyes. They were as black as olives, big and sassy eyes of Luigi Manriolo.