Both grandfathers were there, Montescue and Dell’este—sitting side by side, for a wonder. Nine men who, Dorma had whispered briefly as they entered, represented the Senate—but Kat suspected were really, along with Dorma himself, the entire Council of Ten. And Metropolitan Michael, of course.
All these Kat had expected—but not the cluster of priests surrounding Michael, nor the horde of secretaries seated at tables running the length of the room behind the notables. She felt uneasily like she was falling into the hands of inquisitors.
“Gentlemen,” Dorma nodded to all of them. “These young people are the first we will hear, beginning with Marco Valdosta, continuing with Katerina Montescue, with—” He shook his head, clearly going blank when it came to Rafael’s name. “Ah—their friend, who also witnessed what happened, as the last of the three. Hold your questions until they are finished, and try to keep them brief.”
Marco began, omitting nothing, and although Kat found herself blinking in stunned disbelief when he got to the part where he apparently collapsed in the magic circle, and described what had happened. But neither the Metropolitan nor the priests with him seemed at all surprised.
A spirit? A pagan spirit, but also the Protector of Venice? The very Lion that met Saint Mark?
“So—now I’m bound to the Lion,” he finished wearily; then, out of nowhere, managed a brilliant smile. “And my Pauline relatives will surely disown me now for such blasphemy!”
His grandfather, the Old Dell’este Fox, snorted, and her grandfather choked on his drink—with suppressed laughter, she realized a moment later.
“Those of your Pauline relatives who are stupid enough to be fretted about blasphemy after all this—none of whom are on my side of the family, I might mention—can go hang themselves,” the Old Fox growled. “I’ll lend them the rope.”
“Nonsense!” barked Lodovico Montescue. “Sell it to them. I’ll go in with you in a Colleganza.”
The room erupted in a roar of laughter—and there was an end to that topic.
The priests added a few questions, mostly about the Lion, what it and Marco had done, and the awakening spell. But very soon the Metropolitan himself called a halt. “Anything more we can learn from the book, and it will be more certain than this young man’s memory,” he said. “I will confer with Father Lopez when he returns, but I am satisfied that there is not so much as a whisper of evil about this creature—to whom, and this young mage, we can only be grateful.”
And then it was her turn.
Everyone listened in silence until she got to the part where Lucrezia Brunelli appeared. “Ha!” exclaimed one of the priests, smacking the table and making her jump. “Father Pierre was right! I thought he was.”
“Don’t interrupt her,” commanded Michael sternly; then, unexpectedly, smiled at her.
She continued, wanting to close her eyes to better recall Lucrezia’s exact words—but knowing that she didn’t dare to, because if she did, she’d fall asleep. She managed well enough until she got to the part about the warmth that filled her, coming from her Hypatia medal; the pure, sweet voice in her head, and the glowing golden hands that overlaid hers. Then she saw something that she would never, ever have imagined.
She saw Metropolitan Michael’s eyes widen and his jaw sag. Actually, at that point, there were many jaws dropping, especially among the priests. The only one who didn’t seem surprised was Marco, who squeezed her hand encouragingly. No one interrupted her, though, and she continued doggedly, through the point of Lucrezia’s transformation, the seizing of the Bible, and the aftermath.
“And then the voice said, Let Evil beware the weight of the Word of God, and then—I suppose it was gone, because the warmth went away,” she concluded. She prudently omitted the other outrageous puns that the voice had made, as well as the remarks that had prefaced and followed the aphorism she’d been told to use.
Heads nodded wisely all over the room—
—except for Metropolitan Michael’s. He appeared to be choking for a moment, but quickly composed himself.
Did he get the joke? A moment later, a glance from his dancing eyes confirmed her suspicion that he had.