Starling (87 page)

solution, however absurd or insane.” He sighed. “Some of the afflicted went to Ghita’s house. They drove her out into the street. And
then”—his voice broke a little—“for the first time in days, the villagers dared to creep from their dwellings. Ghita was surrounded. Our
village priest was even there. When I learned what was happening, I
disobeyed my mother and fled to Ghita’s aid, but by then it was too
late. She had been killed by people I once believed to be friends.”
“Falco.” Cass’s throat was raw. She could almost see it: the town
square, the broken body of the woman he had loved, the surging
crowd.
“I left home the next day,” he said, as though he hadn’t heard. “It
was years before I forgave my mother for not offering Ghita sanctuary. I know she was only trying to protect her own children.” His face
hardened. “But I will never forgive the rest of those monsters for
stoning her to death in the street, like a sick dog. I will never believe
that any god, anywhere, would have allowed such cruelty.”
Cass had no words. She stared at her hands, blinking back tears.
The story explained Falco’s distrust of religion and his loathing of all
things supernatural. How horrible it must have been for him to lose
someone he loved in such a manner.
“That’s how I ended up in Venice,” Falco continued. “Originally
I had planned to go to Florence, to study the works of Michaelangelo
and da Vinci, but it felt too close to home. So I came to Venice instead.” He looked up at Cass, his blue eyes caressing her skin. “And
fell in love again.”
“Oh, Falco,” Cass said softly. “I am so sorry for this disaster. If it
weren’t for me, you never would have ended up here.”
“It’s all right, starling.” Falco twisted his fingers through the bars
until they were wrapped around Cass’s hand. “There’s no place I
would rather be.”