City of Secrets by Mary Hoffman Page A

he had been set to making ink, a messy process involving mixing soot – lampblack, Biagio called it – with old linseed oil that had been boiling and reducing in a cauldron for five days. Matt guessed that this was the least popular job in the Scriptorium, given to the youngest or most recent member of the print room. It was hot, sticky and smelly work that left his hands and face covered in smuts.
    He was desperate for a bottle of iced water but settled for a mug of cold ale, bought by Luciano. He was very relieved to find him in the Refectory, since he had no Talian money and was worried about how he would get any lunch.
    â€˜You can put anything you want on my battels bill,’ said Luciano, when Matt had drained his first mug. ‘I’ve told them to supply anything that Matteo Bosco asks for.’
    â€˜Cheers,’ said Matt. ‘That’s me I suppose, though I can’t get used to being called that.’
    â€˜As long as you are in Talia, yes,’ said Luciano.
    â€˜Bizarre,’ said Matt. ‘But then the whole thing is, isn’t it? How did you get to be so at home here? It’s still freaking me out.’
    â€˜I’ve been here a long time,’ said Luciano. ‘Nearly two and a half years. But I was just like you when I first stravagated. Arianna had to teach me everything, and Rodolfo, of course.’
    Matt had already heard about these important people during Luciano’s long explanation in the Black Horse. They were now the co-rulers of Bellezza, the city that was like Venice.
    â€˜Constantin’s got me making ink and learning all the printing stuff,’ said Matt when he had polished off a huge platter of bread, cheese and meat. Luciano made him feel big and clumsy; in fact if he hadn’t been one of his only friends in Talia, he would probably have hated him as much as he did Jago.
    â€˜I can tell,’ said Luciano. ‘You’ve got a big smudge of soot on your cheek. But that’s good. It means you’ll fit right in as a pressman.’
    A young man with light brown hair and a friendly face came up and sat at their table.
    â€˜Cesare,’ said Luciano. ‘I want you to meet Matteo. He’s the one I was telling you about.’
    Cesare held out a suntanned hand and shook Matt’s vigorously. ‘You know Georgia, don’t you?’ he asked eagerly. ‘How is she? And how is Fal— Nicholas?’
    â€˜I don’t really know them,’ said Matt, instinctively liking this open-faced boy. ‘But they’re both well. Georgia is choosing what university to go to.’
    â€˜Will you tell her that I’m at university here,’ said Cesare proudly. ‘Tell her I used the silver she gave me. I’d like her to know what I did with it.’
    Matt had heard something of Georgia’s adventures in Talia but it suddenly seemed much more real now that he had met someone else who knew her. He wondered what her relationship with Cesare had been. But whatever it was, it had come to an end now. She and Nicholas had told him they were not going back to Talia.
    â€˜There’s another old friend here now, Cesare,’ said Luciano. ‘Doctor Dethridge has arrived. He’s giving some lectures on Astronomy. You must meet him, Matt.’
    â€˜But isn’t he the one who . . .’ Matt lowered his voice, ‘started the whole stravagating thing.’
    â€˜He is,’ said Luciano. ‘And what’s more he’s my foster-father. He and his wife Leonora took me on when I, you know, had to stay here.’
    The other boys looked at him with sympathy. Cesare knew Luciano’s story and laid a hand on his arm.
    â€˜A better father you couldn’t wish for,’ Cesare said simply.
    Luciano thought of his real father, back in Islington, being a foster-father to Nick. Different from the old Elizabethan, but just as loving.
    â€˜No,’ he said quietly, then pushed such