Read Online Dark Shimmer by Donna Jo Napoli - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Donna Jo Napoli
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Serenity pervades.
But as we approach and forms become distinct, that sense of calm evaporates. There are so many buildings, so close together, so many towers, that my skin goes gooseflesh at the thought of the vast numbers of people those buildings harbor. By day, this city must swarm like an anthill or a beehive. Narrow alleys run between buildings. I imagine them crowded, bustling. I grip Bianca’s hand tighter.
I see no trees. Are they hidden behind walls? People can’t live without trees and fields.
Antonin maneuvers the gondola through a small canal, where we glide under footbridges that connect to alleys on both sides and sometimes an open campo. I look around and try to memorize every detail. But it’s all so strange, so many stones and doors, so many roofs and chimneys. The canal feeds into a larger one, a gigantic one. I see no people out and about, but I hear music from open windows where lanterns glow—a stringed instrument, like Francesco plays, and something else, which I don’t recognize. I turn my head toward every noise. Laughter comes from behind us. Yowls and shrieks burst from a side alley. Are there wildcats here?
The gondola turns sharply and goes right under a building! It’s a private waterway, a private dock. We stop. This is it. This is Marin’s home, and I didn’t even look at it from the outside, I was so caught up in noises. My breath comes short.
We get out and climb stone steps set at intervals that are right for my legs. Footsteps clack above us. Two plump women holding candles, a skinny young man hardly older than me, and a tiny four-legged animal appear at the top of the steps. I will never get used to seeing people my size. Bianca throws her arms around the wide waist of the younger one, who must be Aunt Agnola. The woman hugs Bianca back and looks at me questioningly over her head. I hang back, two steps below the landing. Funny, now I’m far shorter than them.
Marin clears his throat. “We have a visitor. A guest. Signorina…” He looks down at me with startled eyes. I can’t think why.
“She’s not a guest.” Bianca takes my hand and pulls me up to the landing. “She’s Princess Dolce. And she’s family.”
The animal sniffs at my feet. I stay perfectly still.
“Let’s just call her Signorina Dolce among ourselves.” Marin rubs his palm across his mouth. “This is my sister, Signorina Agnola.”
I smile at Agnola.
She looks at me with the same startled eyes as Marin. She seems to hesitate. Then she comes forward a step and bends toward me, head lowered.
I look where she looks. The animal, of course. “This has to be Ribolin,” I say with careful cheer. I dare to touch an ear. The dog pushes against my hand. I scratch him. He wriggles with pleasure. How funny. “Bianca has told me about him. What a delight.”
Agnola straightens and gives a laugh. “I’m so glad you like him. You’re a person of discernment. He’s a good doggy.” She turns to Marin. A look passes between them that I don’t understand. “Let me introduce the servants. You don’t have to be formal with them,” she says gently. “You don’t have to curtsy. A head bob will do.” She looks at me intently and bobs her head. “This is Lucia La Rotonda, our cook.”
The round, older woman bends toward me, and now I understand; this is what’s done. My neck goes prickly. I bob my head. Lucia La Rotonda straightens and looks at me expectantly. So I bob my head again.
Agnola smiles approval. “And this is Carlo, our kitchen boy and general handyman.”
The young man who has been standing awkwardly at the rear comes forward and bends low. I wait for him to straighten this time and then I bob my head. I look at Agnola. She gives an almost imperceptible nod.
“You must be hungry after all that travel. You’re later than you said you’d be, but we waited on the meal just for you.” Lucia La Rotonda waves a hand toward a table. It stands at the rear of the room, which turns out
But as we approach and forms become distinct, that sense of calm evaporates. There are so many buildings, so close together, so many towers, that my skin goes gooseflesh at the thought of the vast numbers of people those buildings harbor. By day, this city must swarm like an anthill or a beehive. Narrow alleys run between buildings. I imagine them crowded, bustling. I grip Bianca’s hand tighter.
I see no trees. Are they hidden behind walls? People can’t live without trees and fields.
Antonin maneuvers the gondola through a small canal, where we glide under footbridges that connect to alleys on both sides and sometimes an open campo. I look around and try to memorize every detail. But it’s all so strange, so many stones and doors, so many roofs and chimneys. The canal feeds into a larger one, a gigantic one. I see no people out and about, but I hear music from open windows where lanterns glow—a stringed instrument, like Francesco plays, and something else, which I don’t recognize. I turn my head toward every noise. Laughter comes from behind us. Yowls and shrieks burst from a side alley. Are there wildcats here?
The gondola turns sharply and goes right under a building! It’s a private waterway, a private dock. We stop. This is it. This is Marin’s home, and I didn’t even look at it from the outside, I was so caught up in noises. My breath comes short.
We get out and climb stone steps set at intervals that are right for my legs. Footsteps clack above us. Two plump women holding candles, a skinny young man hardly older than me, and a tiny four-legged animal appear at the top of the steps. I will never get used to seeing people my size. Bianca throws her arms around the wide waist of the younger one, who must be Aunt Agnola. The woman hugs Bianca back and looks at me questioningly over her head. I hang back, two steps below the landing. Funny, now I’m far shorter than them.
Marin clears his throat. “We have a visitor. A guest. Signorina…” He looks down at me with startled eyes. I can’t think why.
“She’s not a guest.” Bianca takes my hand and pulls me up to the landing. “She’s Princess Dolce. And she’s family.”
The animal sniffs at my feet. I stay perfectly still.
“Let’s just call her Signorina Dolce among ourselves.” Marin rubs his palm across his mouth. “This is my sister, Signorina Agnola.”
I smile at Agnola.
She looks at me with the same startled eyes as Marin. She seems to hesitate. Then she comes forward a step and bends toward me, head lowered.
I look where she looks. The animal, of course. “This has to be Ribolin,” I say with careful cheer. I dare to touch an ear. The dog pushes against my hand. I scratch him. He wriggles with pleasure. How funny. “Bianca has told me about him. What a delight.”
Agnola straightens and gives a laugh. “I’m so glad you like him. You’re a person of discernment. He’s a good doggy.” She turns to Marin. A look passes between them that I don’t understand. “Let me introduce the servants. You don’t have to be formal with them,” she says gently. “You don’t have to curtsy. A head bob will do.” She looks at me intently and bobs her head. “This is Lucia La Rotonda, our cook.”
The round, older woman bends toward me, and now I understand; this is what’s done. My neck goes prickly. I bob my head. Lucia La Rotonda straightens and looks at me expectantly. So I bob my head again.
Agnola smiles approval. “And this is Carlo, our kitchen boy and general handyman.”
The young man who has been standing awkwardly at the rear comes forward and bends low. I wait for him to straighten this time and then I bob my head. I look at Agnola. She gives an almost imperceptible nod.
“You must be hungry after all that travel. You’re later than you said you’d be, but we waited on the meal just for you.” Lucia La Rotonda waves a hand toward a table. It stands at the rear of the room, which turns out
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