Read Online Leonardo da Vinci: Renaissance Master by Ann Hood - Free Book Online Page B

mountain during the Great Flood? Which is scientifically impossible.”
    He shook his head. “These things are too heavy to float
up
,” the boy said. “They’re too heavy to float at all!”
    â€œSo, then, how did they get there?” Felix asked.
    Without thinking, he helped himself to more soup. The boy didn’t even seem to notice.
    â€œThe rock that formed that mountain,” the boy said, his eyes ablaze with excitement at his theory, “must have once been at the bottom of the ocean. The ocean receded, leaving the fossils behind.”
    â€œMakes sense,” Felix said, wishing science was always explained so clearly.
    â€œNot long ago,” the boy said, forgetting his dinner, “I was boiling water and watching the lid on the pot jump up and down. I asked myself,
Why does a pot lid jump like that when water boils?
”
    He looked at Felix expectantly.
    â€œI think . . . ,” Felix said hesitantly, trying to remember this very thing from science class. Something happened to water when it boiled. But what was it?
    â€œI thought water must expand when it turned to steam,” the boy said.
    That sounded possible. “That’s right, I think,” Felix said.
    â€œThat’s right, I
know
,” the boy said, satisfied without being smug. “I made a glass cylinder, put water and a piston inside it, then brought the water to a boil and measured how far the piston rose.” He leaned back slightly. “The water did indeed expand.”
    â€œWow,” Felix said, impressed.
    â€œThat is why my angel is not yet painted,” the boy said, pointing at the big half-finished canvas.
    â€œI should probably go and let you get back to work,” Felix said, resisting the urge to lick his bowl.
    â€œWhere are you going?”
    â€œWell, I have to go meet my sister,” Felix said.
    â€œAnd then? Where are you staying? I so enjoyed talking with you that I’d like to see you again.”
    Felix considered what to say. Finally, he opted to tell the truth.
    â€œWe haven’t found a place to stay,” he told the boy.
    â€œBut it’s almost Carnival! Every room in Florence is taken!”
    â€œWe’ll figure something out,” Felix said.
    The boy’s face wrinkled with worry, but almost as quickly he brightened.
    â€œYou’ll stay here!” he said.
    â€œHere?”
    â€œYes, yes. Go and get your sister and bring her back here.”
    â€œWell . . .”
    â€œAnd tomorrow I’ll take you to the mountains,” the boy said. “I have been thinking a lot about what happens when I throw a pebble into the pond there, and I have some theories I’d like to share with you.”
    â€œAll right, then,” Felix said, happy now. “I’ll go and get Maisie and bring her back . . . Where am I exactly?”
    The boy laughed. “This is the artist Verrocchio’s studio. He has many apprentices, so there are always beds for more.”
    â€œVerrocchio’s studio,” Felix repeated.
    â€œAsk anyone,” the boy said. “He is one of the most famous artists in Florence.”
    He pointed again to the unfinished painting.
    â€œThat’s his painting, in fact.”
    â€œBut I thought
you
were painting it,” Felix said, confused.
    The boy laughed. “Surely your father doesn’t do all of his painting himself, does he? The renowned artists have their apprentices do the work, too.”
    â€œThey do?”
    â€œYes, yes. Of course.” His eyes settled on the painting again, and he sighed.
    â€œThank you for letting us stay here,” Felix said. “I’ll be back with Maisie soon.”

    â€œDo you see that palazzo?” Sandro asked Maisie.
    She looked up at the giant mansion, the light of oil lamps illuminating the windows and casting them in a golden glow.
    â€œThat is the home where the woman I love lives,” he