Mascoli cocked his head in a quizzical gesture. As close as he was to the undines, he had no doubt at all that the rumors of a 'canal monster' were quite accurate. 'And what makes you think this thing is not a most powerful demon.'
'Doesn't make sense,' replied Lopez. 'The thing--whatever it is--is a servant of Chernobog. I'm quite sure of it, now. Chernobog would have lamed it in some manner. Broken it to his service.'
Mascoli ran his hand across his bald pate, grimacing ruefully. 'You move in a strange world, Father Lopez. That thing is quite too powerful for my taste, thank you.'
Lopez shrugged. 'I did not say it wasn't dangerous. I am simply pointing out that it is, in the end, nothing more than a tool in the hands of another. It is that other that I am truly concerned about.'
He looked down at the undines, moving slowly in the waters of the chapel. 'Very well. Would you take this message to Dottore Marina: Tell him to concentrate all his efforts on finding the Lion. We will see to the rest.'
The undine's mouth gaped wide. 'And who is 'we'?' demanded one.
'He's a special envoy from the Grand Metropolitan of Rome,' explained Diego.
The undine's mouth gaped wide again. 'That means precious little to her,' murmured Mascoli. The bald priest squatted by the edge of the water. 'Just tell him that they are friends of mine. And I trust them.'
A moment later, in a little swirl, one of the undines was gone. The other remained, swimming slowly through the water-chapel.
Father Mascoli stood up. 'I hope Sister Evangelina is not mistaken.' He gave Eneko a hard look.
The Basque priest smiled and spread his hands. 'I could give you assurances of my own, Father Mascoli. But would they really mean very much? In the end, you must make your own decision.'
'I already have. Doesn't mean I have to like it. I'm just a simple priest, Father Lopez.' Mascoli pointed a finger at the still-swirling surface of the water-chapel. 'These waters here are quite deep enough for me. 'I tend to my flock--in whatever form they appear. I'm Hypatian--'
He gave the Basque another hard look, as if saying: as you are supposed to be. 'I don't make judgments. Let God judge. That's His business, not mine. God has given me the gift to make it so that evil can't freely enter here, so anything that enters freely deserves my help.'
Pierre had opened his mouth when Mascoli proclaimed his unwillingness to make judgments as if to protest, but closed it after that last sentence, looking far more satisfied.
Mascoli led the way out of the water-chapel. Once in his cell, with the water-door closed, he paused at the entrance to the main chapel. 'There are still other waters too deep for me,' he added, facing Lopez. 'The Marco boy you asked about.'
'Valdosta.'
Mascoli winced. 'That secret is getting too frayed, I fear.'
'What 'secret'?' demanded Pierre. 'Dell'este sent word to Casa Dorma. From there, it is spreading like fire.'
'Not quite that,' demurred Diego. 'But it is spreading. I fear Petro Dorma has spies in his household.'
Mascoli looked even more unhappy than ever. 'The boy is--has the potential, I should say--to be a powerful user of magic in his own right, Father Lopez. Especially healing magic. I will not be able to train him properly much longer. I am reaching the limits of my own talent and knowledge.'
Eneko nodded. 'Consider the bargain made, Father Mascoli. But . . .' He hesitated. The Basque priest seemed to be experiencing one of his few moment of uncertainty. 'In truth, I am not well versed in the healing arts myself.' After another pause, grudgingly: 'Nor, I confess, is that a branch of magic in which my own talents are particularly, ah--'
Pierre snorted. Diego laughed. 'Ask a Viking berserk to be a nursemaid, Mascoli--you'd do better.'
Lopez glared at him. His companion responded with an insouciant smile. 'It's the truth, Eneko. You know it as well as I do.' To Mascoli: 'I will be glad to assist you with the boy's training. And, if all goes well, in a few months others of our brotherhood should be arriving in Venice. At least two of them--Francis, in particular--are superb with healing magic.'
'Thank you,' said Mascoli softly. 'I have become very fond of Marco.' He studied Eneko for a moment. 'Does this--ah, Viking berserk--magic of yours extend to protective spells? Or is it simply a specialty in smiting the ungodly?'
