This Rough Magic

Kat nodded. 'The Lion is Venice after all, and Marco is the Lion, too. He can't leave, Maria.'

Alessia twitched, gave a tentative whimper, and then burst into full bellow. Kat rocked frantically, an expression of raw panic on her face. 'What's wrong, my cherub? There, there . . . Help, Maria! What is wrong? I didn't do anything to her. What do I do now?'

Maria found laughter a welcome gift. 'By the smell, I think she's probably done something to herself. Don't worry, that's not what's making her cry. It doesn't seem to worry her.'

Kat hastily held out Alessia at full arm's stretch, as if she were a precious piece of porcelain suddenly found to harbor a poisonous spider. Maria did not reach for Alessia. 'I'll show you what do about it,' she said cheerfully.

Kat searched frantically for rescue. 'Ah. Er . . . I see Papa's Vinlander partners are here. I'd—I'd better go and speak to them. I'll come back and see you in just a moment.' She thrust the bellowing Alessia at her mother, and bolted.

Maria, familiar now with all the less pleasant aspects of babies, took Alessia off to change, glancing as she went at the tall, large, blond contingent that Kat was greeting. And there, hastening down the quay-side from the Doge's palace, was Marco. Probably been to see Benito. Benito's face, when he'd seen her, had been quite a study.

She scowled as she thought about it. If Umberto was one sort of child, Benito was another—a brat, a bridge-brat, destined to hang, no doubt. But Venice would not forget that latest exploit of his in a hurry. Being Venice, it would embrace it as quite a favorite story.

* * *

Eneko Lopez was on a high balcony of the Doge's palace, his eagle eyes looking out over the Jesolo marshes when Marco finally tracked him down. The stern visage cracked into a smile on seeing Marco. 'And how is wedded bliss, Marco Valdosta?

Marco felt himself blush. 'Um. Blissful, thank you, senor.'

This reply lightened the stern visage further. 'It is intended to be, you know. That is why Christ sanctified the institution of marriage with his first miracle.' He pointed out toward the sky. 'Tell me: what is happening up there?'

Marco peered into the blue. 'I'd say that a bird . . . or a pair of birds, rather, are being mobbed by seagulls. The gulls around here can be quite territorial, and there are thousands of them.'

The part of him that was the Lion stirred. And so am I, it said within him. They do not belong here.

Of course, Eneko Lopez could not hear that voice, and Marco did not feel easy enough to explain. But he knew, now, why the gulls were attacking the hawks. The gulls were as much part of the lagoon as the water was, and the hawks were the eyes of the Lion's ancient enemy. The Lion would blind that enemy, if he could—and if he could not, he would at least deny him the use of those eyes over Venice.

Eneko nodded. 'A pair of what I should guess were goshawks, although I am not an expert on birds. Are such things common over Venice?'

'Well, I've seen hawks in the reed-brakes and barene close to the fringes of the marsh, but not really out here,' Marco temporized. 'They don't belong here. The gulls will see them off.'

The gulls will kill them if they can.

'I have seen two hawks in the sky rather often of late. They appear to be hawks, at least,' said Eneko. 'I have attempted to scry them. Birds are difficult to connect with, and raptors most particularly difficult. They think mostly of hunting and killing, and not a great deal else.'

Well, this was the opening Marco had rather wondered how to make. 'But if you were scrying and it turned out they were not hawks . . . wouldn't you be very vulnerable?' He took a deep breath. 'Brother Mascoli said I should ask you for help with magical defenses for protection against evil.'

He felt the eagle gaze again. 'Mascoli is a good man. But he sees only good in everything. If he thought you should consult me on this, I must conclude that something particularly evil happened. Tell me about it.'

So Marco explained.

Eneko Lopez's eyes narrowed when he came to the part about the undines and San Raphaella. 'I was aware of this. I was also aware that the undines that live in the Lagoon have a great deal to do with the Strega mages. In particular with the late Luciano Marina.' Something about the way he said it filled in the word 'unlamented' before 'late.'

Marco nodded, but innate honesty forced him to defend Chiano. The Strega mage might have intended to kill him to save Venice—but . . . he'd also saved Marco's life before that. And been a friend when a terrified boy needed one.

And it was entirely possible—

Probable, chuckled the voice in his head.

—that the knife had been intended for some other purpose in the ceremony.

Bloodletting does not mean killing. Some ceremonies require the spilling of a token of blood, given freely. Ask your black-robed friend. He knows.

'Luciano was a good man, even if he was not a Christian,' Marco said with more firmness. 'And he helped the undines and they liked him, yes. Brother Mascoli said it was not wrong to aid nonhumans. No evil creature would come to the sanctified water, and no evil creature would ask help.'

'We differ in levels of trust and points of theology,' said Eneko, dryly. 'But continue. I accept that you are a Christian soul, even if you are bonded to a creature about which I am less certain.' He smiled. 'And I do not mean your wife, whose Christianity I know well enough from the counseling booth of St. Hypatia. She gave me a lesson in honesty, once, when I was her counselor.'

Marco took a deep breath. 'Well, according to Brother Mascoli, it was only the strength of that 'other' that