The Blackhope Enigma (26 page)

He turned to Sunni. “You are the most baffling female I know. Handling weapons, swimming, and drawing as well as a boy — and saving my life. I did not treat you with the respect I should have.”

“No, you didn’t. But everything turned out OK, so it’s all right. There are lots of girls like me now,” she said.

Marin smiled. “I cannot quite believe that.” He opened his satchel and took out Mr. Bell’s book. “This is yours. But may I show it to my master before I give it back?”

After an explanation in Italian, Marin handed the book to Corvo, who was dumbfounded as he leafed through it.

“I am famous in your time,” the Raven said at last, his eyes shining. “And this book — a miracle! Many people can see my work.” He was momentarily at a loss for words. “And they care about
these
paintings? The ones that are not enchanted?”

“More than you can imagine,” Sunni said. She, Dean, and Blaise clustered at Corvo’s side as he thumbed through the pages of the book.

“I’ve loved that one since I was little. I saw it in a museum in London!” Sunni pointed at a Venice street scene.

Corvo slapped Marin on the back. “Who would have believed it? That little painting lives in London now.”

Blaise leafed forward to another page. “And this picture is in America. I saw it there.”

“Another miracle. My work has crossed a vast sea to the New World.”

When he had seen every page in the book, he closed it carefully and handed it back to Sunni.

“You can keep it,” she said. “I’m sure Mr. Bell won’t mind.”

“Thank you, but no.” Corvo put his hand over his heart. “The memory of it will always be here now.”

He nodded to Marin, who bowed low and stepped over to the mural.

“Farewell, Sunni.”

Sunni’s cheeks went hot as the apprentice said her name. His eyes caught hers and held them for a moment.

Corvo moved his chalk in spirals, making shapes above his drawing. A line of symbols appeared across the top of the portrait. At the completion of the last one, Marin breathed out and smiled. His body grew dim and vanished from the fingertips and toes upward. His face faded, the amber eyes the last to go, gazing out with a look of utter peacefulness.

The drawing shook on the wall. The lines faded, then sharpened, quivering and filling out as Marin took possession of the portrait.

They watched him roll his head from side to side. After a moment, he stretched his arms and legs out and walked tentatively around the workshop. Dolphin and Zorzi flew to him, jumping on him and patting his head.

“My friends,” said Corvo, turning around. “You have witnessed the magic of the heavens, a miracle few have ever seen. That I have allowed you to see it means that we have a bond of trust. You are privy to my work and must help protect it. Remember, the labyrinth must be closed down. I put my faith in you to do this.”

The children nodded, their faces bright, moved at being part of Fausto Corvo’s great work.

Then, after a last bow, the Raven traced the same symbols over his self-portrait and, his black eyes glowing, receded into a dim shadow before vanishing altogether. They watched him take possession of his portrait and welcome his long-lost apprentice home with a fatherly hug.

“C
ome on, let’s go,” said Dean. “We don’t need to hang around here anymore.”

Sunni could not take her eyes from the mural, where Marin stood, presumably telling the others his story. The two younger apprentices hung on his every word, while Corvo stroked his beard and nodded occasionally.

“A few more minutes. I just want to see . . .”

“See what?” Dean huffed. “Marin’s gone.”

“Dean’s right, Sunni.” Blaise scowled to himself as Sunni watched Marin, a melancholy look on her face. “They’re all set now. We don’t need to keep watching them. It feels kind of like spying. And we’ve got our own homes to go to.”

“OK.” She followed the others out but looked back at the mural once more, just long enough to see Marin smiling toward her but not seeing her.

“How are we going to tell Mr. Bell about Angus?” Blaise asked. “I feel kind of sick at the idea.”

“I do, too,” Sunni murmured. “We’ll tell him together, OK?”

“Yeah, strength in numbers, I guess,” he said more brightly. “Hey, Sunni, what was it like in Corvo’s workshop?”

“I was barely there,” she answered. “But it smelled wonderful, like oil paints, and the light was all golden. It was magical.”

Blaise smiled ruefully. “I wish I’d gotten to see it.”

“Will you come on?” said Dean. “All this talking is slowing us down!”

One by one, they edged across the ridge on the other side of the stack to the continuation of the path and climbed up, weary and thoughtful. The air grew dank as they entered the mist, and the craggy rocks made weird shapes in the gloom.

Then came the faint sound of a man’s voice, low and tired, echoing somewhere ahead of them.

“One is one and all alone, and evermore shall be so.”

The voice dropped to a murmur, but after a few moments, it erupted as if the singer had had a burst of energy. “Five for the symbols at your door, six for the six proud walkers.”

Seconds later they saw a shadowy figure fading in and out of the smoky mist.

“Seven for the seven stars in the sky, eight for the April rainers . . .”

The figure stretched and tried to walk more upright as he sang, “Nine for the nine bright shiners —”

“It’s Hugo!” Dean shouted.

At this the figure stopped dead and crouched down to survey the murk below him.

“It can’t be.” Blaise was incredulous. “I left him dying in the maze.”

“It is, too. It’s Foxy Farratt. That’s the song he was singing when we met him. Hugo! It’s me, Dean — and Sunni!”

There was a strangled sound from the figure, now hobbling quickly. Blaise scrambled up the path and hurried toward the voice, which called out, “I see your path. You’re not far now. Keep on, now. You are nearly here.”

The waiting silhouette was the color of mud against the dim light. It was almost birdlike, its legs bent, with a long tail drooping behind.

Blaise slowed his pace. What if this was not Hugo but another predator? “I thought you’d died.”

“I very nearly did,” answered the silhouette.

“You were in bad shape.”

“True. But hearing your voice was a tonic, dear boy. That was you, was it not, behind the hedge in the maze?”

Blaise smiled broadly. “Yes, Mr. Fox-Farratt, it was.”

“It was a voice in the wilderness to me. I gathered all my strength and carried on, evading my feathered enemy and finally escaping the maze.”

Blaise pressed on and as he grew closer, he recognized the shape of Hugo’s frock coat, its tails shredded and flapping behind him.

Hugo burst from the murky cloud, his arms spread out. “Thank heavens you are safe and sound.”

He was practically unrecognizable in the washed-out light, his face a constellation of sores and rivulets of dirt. The cherry-red coat was caked with dried blood and slime.

“Shocking, I know.” Hugo’s grin was dazzling against his worn face. “Soap and water are rather lacking around here, I’m afraid.”

“What happened to you?” asked Blaise.

“Almost more than I can comprehend, dear boy, and none of it enjoyable. After being bundled onto a rattletrap ship, I was attacked by pirates, snakes, and a giant hound with fangs.” He paused suddenly. “See here. That ruffian you were with — he’s not around, is he?”

“No, sir. Angus won’t be bothering anyone again.”

Hugo nodded gravely, but his smile grew as Sunni and Dean caught up to them. “I say! I despaired of ever finding you, my friends.”

“You’ve been looking for us?” asked Dean.

“Yes, ever since you disappeared from the palace. I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened to you.”

“I’m sorry we ran away,” Dean murmured.

Sunni glanced at her stepbrother in wonder. “Me too.”

“You had good reason,” said Hugo. “You wanted to return home.” Sadness crossed his face. “I cannot go back to my time, but you can go back to yours, with any luck. I see now how selfish it would be to make you stay. I do not wish you to spend your lives here, knowing your families will grow old and die without you.” He bowed. “I put myself at your disposal, my friends. I will help you return home in any way I can.”

“Thank you,” said Sunni. She could barely contain her growing excitement. “We’re actually near a place we think can take us home.”

“Good heavens,” said Hugo, perking up. “Then let us go, by all means.”

They wandered across a stretch of dead grass and scrub, retelling their adventures.

“My word — il Corvo — alive and working with the apprentices in his Venice workshop!” Hugo said breathily. “And Angus Bellini, banished to a far-off island.” He shook his head. “But no sign of Lady Ishbel.”

“Knowing Angus, he dumped her along the way,” Blaise said.

“Probably,” agreed Hugo grimly.

A rhythmic
caw-caw-caw
sound came through the mist ahead.

The fog dissolved to reveal three stone columns and a shallow amphitheater beyond, bordered by more columns and filled with black birds, all cawing like rows of spectators. The words
LUX IN TENEBRIS
were carved above the entrance.

“
Light in the darkness
, if my Latin serves me well,” exclaimed Hugo. “Let us hope this path does indeed take us into the light, past this unkindness of ravens.”

“Huh?” Dean said.

“The collective noun for a group of ravens. An unkindness.”

“Good description,” Blaise muttered, eyeing the noisy crowd of birds.

“Look,” Sunni said. “The labyrinth.”

The rectangular maze was overgrown with weeds and was hard to make out in the odd light, but Sunni ignored the din of the ravens and ran to the opening of the snaking path. It led to four interconnected quadrants, just like the labyrinth in the Mariner’s Chamber.

Sunni positioned herself at the first stone. “This is it. Let’s go home.”

Hugo raked his hand across his filthy hair. “I am sad to see you go, my friends. I will miss you. But it is the right thing, of course.”

“I’m sorry, Hugo.”

“I could come with you. Perhaps there is a place for me in your century.”

Before he could stop himself, Dean blurted out, “Yeah, a cemetery!”

Hugo looked hurt, even under his layer of dirt.

“Dean didn’t mean it like that,” said Sunni. “It’s just that you have been in here so long, you might not survive in our time. We don’t want you to end up as a skeleton in the Mariner’s Chamber.”

“I see,” said Hugo in a small voice. “Yes, I am aware of the difficulty. And I cannot in good conscience keep you here any longer.”

“There’s something else,” said Sunni. “Corvo asked us to close the labyrinth from the other side, so no one can ever come into Arcadia again.”

Hugo bowed his head. “Then remaining here is my fate.”

“Inko is out there somewhere, waiting for you to come back.” She twisted her hands together.

“Perhaps. But I do not know whether our friendship can be repaired. Not after what you have told me about his betrayal of you to Marin.”

Sunni bit her lip. “Marin bullied him into it. He had no choice.”

Hugo nodded. “I cannot forgive what Marin did, but I understand.”

“What will you do once we’re gone?” asked Blaise.

“Perhaps I will be lucky enough to find a way back to the palace.”

“I hope you do,” said Sunni wistfully. The boys murmured in agreement. “I wish you could let us know you were safely home.”

“I will find a way to send you a sign,” said Hugo.

“All right.” Sunni took a deep breath and turned to Blaise and Dean. “Who goes first?”

“I’m game,” said Blaise.

“Then me!” Dean grinned.

The ravens cawed loudly as Blaise entered the labyrinth. Once he had, the squawking faded and he felt the peaceful sensation of following the path once again. As he walked, murmuring, “Chiaroscuro,” he remembered sketching
The Mariner’s Return to Arcadia
. He would soon be back there, an ordinary boy again.

This thought faded, too, as he felt himself grow weightless. The center of the labyrinth was in front of him, sharp in focus and then evaporating as he came to a stop there. Everything drifted away as his body did.

Dean waited to follow Blaise and gave a whoop after he vanished. “I’m right behind you!”

Sunni squeezed his arm, and Hugo saluted.

As Dean walked stoutly along the labyrinth’s path, a low rumble began in the bowels of the island. The ravens flew into the air as one, hovering above the amphitheater like a black cloud.

“Whoa!” Dean shouted as the ground heaved up great clods of earth. The stone tiles of the labyrinth juddered and leaped into the air, falling back in a new formation. “No! It — it’s changed shape.”

The labyrinth was no longer rectangular, but round, its paths winding into a spiral. The ravens sat back on their seats and cackled.

“Try again, Dean,” called Sunni.

Dean set off carefully. The stones stayed as solid as if they had never moved, and he soon arrived in the center. He put both arms up and closed his eyes as he was transformed from a boy into a wisp of air.