chapter 29
The curse in Ezio's throat was cut short as his uncle staggered dizzily before him, his eyes uncontrollably spinning behind his lids. His impulsive arms volunterily reached out just as his uncle collapsed into a lifeless heap across his clutches, making him groaned momentarily beneath the sudden weight. He gently laid Mario across the floor, minding his gashed head. A loud squeal in the doorway alerted Ezio of Alcina's feet skidding to a stop, painting a streaked trail of bloody foot and toe prints all the way down the hall from her bedroom. Her rattled face matched the unkempt and muddled clothing she managed to harness to herself before racing after him.
Her eyes widened through the strings of hair clumped around her face, glued to her skin by smears of blood and sweat. "Is he..." her expression delivered the message before her panting lips could even articulate.
"He is alive, merely unconscious," Ezio dabbed away the blood trickle spilling down Mario's forehead, staining his white sleeve. "Help me move him." She rushed to his side and latched her arms around Mario's legs while Ezio lifted his upper section from the floor, letting his arms dangle lifelessly. Together they heaved his bulky, dead weight to the bed, resting him carefully atop the cushion of blankets and pillows.
They exchanged anxious looks to one another, neither one of them willing to break the heavy silence of guilt. What was there to say... except this was entirely their fault... they had failed to protect the apple, and Mario took a beating for it.
Alcina sighed sorrowfully before bringing Mario's curled hand to her frowning lips, kissing it affectionately. "He will be alright," Ezio comforted. She said nothing in response, only squeezing the back of Mario's hand to her cheek, nodding in grievance and feeling like a fool for taking the bait from her attacker.
Mario muttered a few incoherent words and half sentences overtime as he faded between the worlds of consciousness and cold dreams. The only comprehensible slip of his lips was the repetitive word "doom" or the occasional " Eden ".
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
The local doctor arrived shortly and began tending to Mario, searching for signs of major trauma and suggesting the usual leech treatment to drain his blood of possible infection that may have entered through the gash in his scalp. The continuous rain only dampened the villa's spirits all the more, plaguing the house with a cold shroud of dread. Ezio remained at his uncle's side, alone, and waiting for any sign of his return from the blackout.
His brows stained his tired eyes into a furrow of distress; the creases seemed to age him far beyond his years. "Forgive me Uncle," he muttered to the floor. He waited in hopes that his voice would rouse the resting form, but after several minutes of aching stillness, he continued, "I know you cannot hear me, but I am sorry for the last time we spoke. I behaved poorly." He hunched forward in his seat beside the bed, smoothing his thumbs over his fingers. Still no response.
Ezio spewed a hot breath through his teeth, guilt stricken and tormented. He simply had to clear his mind or he would go mad. "I will find the apple Uncle... and they will pay for all they have done to our family. The Spaniard will die... I swear it," Mario's sleeping form remained unaffected as Ezio spoke aloud into the stillness, finding the release calming.
"I am truly sorry for my behavior in your office. I don't know what came over me." He nonchalantly began to chew on his lip, spilling his guts into the air. "I do not understand it Uncle. There is something... something about this woman that I cannot explain. My mouth runs away with me and I seem to lose all hope of rationalization whenever she is near me or involved. It is always a fight to think clearly... as you witnessed." Ezio's shoulder's rose and fell as he dispensed a sigh, "You were right Uncle... especially about fighting one's fate. There are things we simply cannot control, no matter how much we wish it."
He shut his eyes and massaged his thumbs over his tired lids. He of all people wished that fate could be controlled, then perhaps the rest of his family would still be with him. "I am so very sorry for what they have done to you uncle," he scowled at the bloodstain left behind on his sleeve. "I have come to accept that our fates cannot be changed. We cannot run from it... it always finds us," Ezio swallowed hard, his heart heavy, "...but I must try to protect her Uncle. If only you knew what she is like... how could anyone allow her to be sacrificed, all for the sake of a myth?" He shook his head in fury as his scowl deepened. "I will never stop trying to save her. Something within me demands that I do. If my life is to be forfeited... so be it." He scoffed to himself as a false smile flickered across his teeth, "Does this make me a fool Uncle?"
"Not a fool nipote, no. Un po 'cinico perhaps."
Ezio's head snapped toward the surprisingly cheerful tone of his uncle's awakening voice, "Welcome back Uncle," he smiled.
"Porca puttana, I feel as if I have been kicked in the head by a horse."
"Not quite, but close enough," Ezio laughed lightly.
"The apple... is it?" Mario uttered. Ezio looked down and shook his head in response. "Merda."
"What will you have me do then?"
"Well now, it took me getting beat across the head for the assassin to accept orders from the voice of reason?" Mario mocked.
Ezio smiled truthfully, "It is time I started appreciating wise counsel when it is offered."
Mario nodded respectfully to his comment as he touched at the swollen knot on his head. "There is only one thing we can do nipote. You must take it back. The Templar's must never learn the secrets the apple possess. I fear there are no hands on this Earth meant to wield that weapon."
"Concordato. But Uncle, once we have it, what will we do with it? Leave it hidden in the drawer of your office until someone else comes to steal it?"
"No Ezio. We will destroy it, throw it into the ocean as far as I am concerned. No man must ever touch it again."
"Does the council know of this?" Ezio attested.
"I am deciding this."
He smirked at his uncle's insinuated bravado, "The templars sent a hitman into the villa this morning to murder each of us, starting with Alcina. From the looks of him, he did not last five minutes."
"She certainly knows how to handle herself."
Ezio nodded proudly, "I will search his body for any leads. Perhaps he carries a contract with the name of his employer, I will search from there."
Mario frowned as he touched the wound on his head again, checking his fingers for fresh blood, "This certainly gives birth to a number of new riddles."
"Riddles? What do you mean?"
Mario massaged his pounding temples, "If Alcina is the key to opening the vault, why then would the templars want her dead? You would think they would have tried to kidnap her, but certainly not kill her. What would be the point? How would they open the vault?"
"Do you think the Templars assume we wish to take the contents of the vault for ourselves? That way killing Alcina would take away our access to it."
"Ah yes, but destroy the key... and the way is forever shut for both parties," Mario wagged a thoughtful finger. Ezio cringed at the way they were discussing Alcina's life as a disposable trinket. It disgusted him.
"Merda..." Ezio curled his fingers around his chin, his eyes narrowing in uneasiness.
"What is the matter?"
A thought struck him bluntly, "What if there is more than one key?" he whispered to himself. An unsettling edge gripped Ezio's nerves, festering beads of sweat into his hands. Could Donato be a key as well? His visions, his assassin blood, and the prophecy... could these facts coincide with Patriach Salvatore's reasons for kidnapping him? But the prophecy had spoken about Alcina specifically... or could it truly be that simple?
The Gavino lineage could be traced as long as the Auditore family's; descendants from both lines were always born and bred to become assassins to fight alongside one another. But could it be that the Gavino line carried a secret... an ancient secret?
What if Alcina's ancestors passed the primitive right to opening the vault through their family's bloodline, handing it down from one generation to the next? Could this be why he found himself so instinctively protective of her? Because every inherited fiber of his genes, blood, and instincts commanded that he protect the ancient secret hidden in her veins? She was the protector, protector of the key... and it was his duty as an Auditore to protect her and all else that entailed. "This cannot be mere coincidence..." he muttered.
"Cosa? Nipote what are you talking about?" Mario grew urgently restless.
Ezio silently cursed himself, forgetting that he had failed to tell his uncle that Alcina's brother was now the enemy. This made things all the more difficult. "I will find the piece of eden uncle. I swear there will be no more mistakes."
"Are you to go alone?" Mario inquired.
"Of course. I cannot risk something happening to her, especially with the knowledge that the Templar's have discovered her role in the prophecy." Ezio rose to his feet.
"Hmm," his uncle shook his head reluctantly.
"You disagree with my decision?"
Mario raised a yielding hand, "I respectfully do nipote. It seems to me that Alcina has proven herself time and again to be a valuable companion. I understand your weariness of bringing her and putting her in harms way, but Ezio... has she not been braving such dangers all her life? The two of you were chosen to become assassins because you are both stronger when you are together. That said, I think it wise that she accompany you to find the apple."
Ezio chewed over Mario's suggestion, plotting out every plausible disaster in his head. Maybe she would be safer if she came with him, that way he could protect her himself rather than worrying about her running away the moment he left the villa.
"Ezio, I understand your fear... but given the circumstance, retrieving the apple is our most crucial goal. Even if the Templar's never set foot in the vault, the apple itself poises an enormous threat to us all. Find it, nipote."
"Consider it done uncle," the assassin smirked. "As for earlier... what I said about Alcina... I-"
"Ezio there is no need." Mario smeared the collected grime of dried blood from his fingertips, waving away the conversation.
"Will you be alright if I go?"
Mario laughed, "It would be a relief to have a few moments to rest in silence." He slumped back into the bed, shutting his eyes through a smile. Ezio could not help but mirror his amusement.
"Thank you for humoring my nonsense," he laughed.
Mario exhaled a relaxed breath, "A man has only one escape from his old self, to see a different self, in the mirror of a woman's eyes. If Alcina is that to you, then do what you must nipote." Ezio glanced to his uncle, unsure if he had grown delirious or was simply mocking him. "As I said before nipote," he yawned, "I know you will do the right thing."
The assassin cracked a grin as Mario's voice droned into a sleepy lull, followed closely by gentle snores. "Grazie Uncle."
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Ezio stepped quietly from the room, shutting the door behind him. He cocked his head to the side at the resting form on the floor, "How long have you been waiting here?"
"Awhile," Alcina sighed. "Stop worrying, I was not spying."
Ezio hunched beside her on the chilled floor, "I have nothing to hide bella," he smiled playfully.
"So you already know that I am coming with you," she said directly.
His jaw nearly dropped, "I thought you said you were not spying!"
"And I was telling the truth," she shrugged a shoulder. "You do not realize how loud you are."
He shook his head at her smirk, stubbornly fighting a chuckle. "I do not suppose I could convince you to stay?" Her smile dissolved into a coy grimace, raising an obstinate eyebrow. "Just as I thought," he groaned. "Alcina... it is going to be dangerous. I don't want- cosa... where are you going?" he called after her as she had already begun heading down the hallway, rolling her eyes at him.
"Are you coming or not?" her voice echoed across the marble. Oh how he adored this woman.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
translations:
Un po 'cinico- a little cynical
Porca puttana- holy shit
Concordato- agreed
