Chapter 77
Author's Note: Wow 179 reviews guys (not counting the 200 + I received when the story was originally posted), thank you so much! I'm so grateful for your comments. They make my day :) Now on with the story!
Distracted by her reunion with Basta, Dafne barely noticed Mortola making her way over to Pietro, who had hopped out of the car and was leaning against the frame. But when Mortola's voice reached her ears, telling Pietro how Silvertongue destroyed the Shadow, she listened. Basta was listening too because he added,
"Yeah the arena's full of fairies and other stupid creatures now."
"Who cares about that," Mortola snapped, her voice sounded oddly throaty. And her cheeks looked shiny, as if she had been crying, "All that matters is Silvertongue and his precious family are defenceless. We need to gather what guns we have, go back to the arena and kill them!"
"Kill them?" Pietro said calmly, showing none of the horror that Dafne had on her face, "Sorry Mortola, I'm not interested in that plan," he glanced at Dafne with a slight smile, "I'm happy enough to let them be."
"Let them be!" Mortola shrieked, "Silvertongue killed your master. He killed..." she took a shuddering breath, "my son!"
She paused, as if to give everyone time to register this bombshell. Dafne couldn't believe it at first. But it made sense. It explained Mortola's fanatical devotion to Capricorn, her obsessive jealousy. Dafne glanced at Basta. He was looking just as surprised. Obviously Capricorn and Mortola's biological connection had been a tightly-guarded secret. And now the secret was out, everyone seemed too stunned to speak. This suited Mortola because she wasn't done talking,
"Yes I'm Capricorn's mother!" she reiterated in a pained hiss, two tears rolling from her eyes, "And I will see his murder avenged!" she glared at Pietro, "If you won't help, give a gun to someone who will," she pointed suddenly in Basta's direction, causing he and Dafne to jump, "Basta will do it!"
Dafne looked at Basta, her face tense with pleading.
"Why the worried face little mouse?" he said softly, "Do you really think I'd agree to that?" he turned to Mortola and stated rather bluntly, "If you want to avenge Capricorn's death, Mortola, do it your bloody self."
Basta's refusal seemed to shock Mortola more than Pietro's had. It infuriated her more as well.
"You wretched little ingrate!" she fumed, "After everything Capricorn did for you, taking you in, as if you were his own son..."
"He never cared about me!" Basta was suddenly shouting, "He was going to feed me to the Shadow," his eyes flicked down Dafne's bandaged hands, "He burnt my dear heart's hands. I don't owe him anything!"
He pulled Dafne more tightly against him. She returned the hug, relieved he had finally come to terms with the truth, at the same time wanting nothing more to comfort him from the pain that came with this acceptance. Meanwhile Mortola was silent, as if the ferocity of Basta's reaction had rendered her a little speechless. But then she found her voice, and it was full of contempt,
"So be it. I don't need you," she turned to Pietro again, "Or anyone else. I just need a gun," she thrust her hand out, "Give one to me!" she demanded.
Pietro shook his head with a smile,
"No," he said almost tauntingly, "I don't think so."
Mortola's eyes bulged with anger,
"No?"
Pietro's smile widened a little,
"Sorry to disappoint you. But no one here is going to give you a weapon."
Mortola balled her fists at her sides,
"It would be a mistake to refuse me Pietro," she said through gritted teeth, "You don't want me as your enemy."
Pietro smoothed the side of jacket, his expression turning solemn.
"You're right," he said, "I don't. Which is why I think you and I should have a little chat," he nodded towards the woods, "In private," he glanced at Dafne and Basta, "It won't take long. Nico can put some music on while you wait. Can't you Nico?"
"Yeah," Nico's voice drifted from the car, lacking its usual cheeriness, "I can do that."
"I'll talk to her if you want Captain," Franco was already out of the car, flicking ash from the cigarette he was smoking, "I don't mind."
Pietro hesitated before nodding.
"Alright, just to be the point."
"Short and simple, got it."
Franco crushed his cigarette under his heel and gave Mortola a smile,
"Let's go Mama Capricorn."
A shiver ran down Dafne's spine. She knew the real reason Franco was taking Mortola into the woods, even though it was unspoken. There would be no talking, except from the gun Franco had concealed somewhere. Perhaps it was a lupara like Pietro's.
"Don't come any closer!" Mortola's voice was so piercing that Franco did halt. But she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on Pietro, "Do you think I'll let myself be shot in woods by your crony!" she hissed.
Pietro didn't deny this was his intention. His gaze flicked briefly and apologetically to Dafne. She realised she was the reason he had talked about Mortola's murder in code, an attempt to spare her distress. But now the truth was out, Pietro abandoned pretence and spoke directly.
"You're too much of a liability to keep alive Mortola," he said, "You could cause a lot of heartache. Not just to Silvertongue's family either. It's better for the lot of us if you die tonight."
Dafne tensed against Basta. Pietro's words were chilling but she couldn't help agreeing with them.
"You have no way of escaping," Pietro went on rather gently, "Or fighting. Franco will take you into the woods and it will be over very quickly. You can be with your son."
"Oh you can be sure of that," Mortola said fiercely, "But I won't give any of you the satisfaction of killing me..." In a blink of an eye, she drew a small vial from her dress. She held it up almost triumphantly, "If I have to die, it will be at my own hands."
No one moved to stop her as she went to prise open the bottle. Dafne buried her face against Basta, unable to watch Mortola drink the poisoned contents. When she was done, she threw the vial on the road, the smash of the glass caused Dafne to turn. Mortola was hobbling towards the edge of the forest. When she reached it, she turned back. There was no fear on her face, only hatred and defiance,
"I curse you all," she spat, her eyes shifting to every one of them. Dafne felt Basta tense. "Now leave this place," Mortola ordered, imperious as ever, "I don't want to die listening to your insufferable voices!"
Then she disappeared into the darkness of the forest. Her departure was met with silence, everyone obviously shocked by what had just happened.
"That was messed up," Franco said finally.
Pietro sighed.
"I suppose it was better for her to take her own life," he mused, "It spared us having to do it."
"She cursed us," Basta whispered, sounded more horrified about that than anything else.
"You have your rabbit's foot don't you?" Dafne asked, trying to keep her voice free of the shock she was feeling.
"Oh yes," Basta nodded.
Dafne did her best to smile calmly,
"Then the curse bounced right off you," she reassured him.
"What about you though?" Basta said with concern.
"Er, the horseshoe protected me," Dafne said, "It's still in my pocket."
Basta sighed with relief,
"Well that's lucky."
Dafne laughed a little at his choice of words, but quickly sobered. Mortola was dead or dying somewhere nearby. She couldn't feel any relief at this. All she could think about was her disturbing proximity to a corpse.
"Can we leave now?" she asked Pietro hopefully.
He nodded.
"I think that's a good idea."
"Are we going to find Mortola and bury her first?" Franco asked.
"I don't think that will be necessary. It's a remote forest. Even if she is found, her death can't be traced to us," Pietro's mouth formed a small smile, "So unless you feel strongly about burying her Franco..."
Franco shook his head,
"I'm not digging a hole in the dark if I don't have to. Let's go amici."
Pietro nodded before looking at Dafne,
"I'm thinking we should find a hotel to stay in. Just for the night. There's bound to be one in the next town. We can get some rest and drop you two in your village first thing tomorrow."
"Sleep sounds good."
After a night of terror and relief, Dafne was exhausted. Basta looked the same way. But he was quick to tell Pietro they wouldn't be sharing a room with him or anyone else. Pietro rolled his eyes, reassuring him that no one was going to insist otherwise.
"Good," Basta said, "Because we want to be alone."
"Of course," Pietro murmured.
Dafne detected a trace of bitterness in his voice. She understood why. It had to be hard for him, seeing them together. But he summoned a cheerful smile,
"I'm afraid we don't a seat for you amico," he said to Basta, "But you're small enough to sit on Dafne's lap so that shouldn't be a problem."
"I'm not small you jackanapes," Basta snapped. He gave Dafne an insistent look while Pietro was laughing, "You'll sit on my lap, won't you dear heart?"
Dafne nodded. It was less fuss to go along with what Basta wanted, even though Pietro's suggestion was more logical. She was taller after all. But she managed to make herself comfortable, sitting sideways and curling up against him.
Ignazio was still sitting on Orlanda's lap where Dafne had left him. She was surprised that Orlanda hadn't shoved him elsewhere, more surprised that she was actually stroking him. She might have called it a coping mechanism if Orlanda had looked upset about her mistress's death. But she was decidedly dried-eyed. Perhaps she secretly had no love of the old woman she'd served as second in command.
Basta was quick to voice his dissatisfaction at having to sit next to her.
"Like I want to be sitting next to you either," Orlanda retorted, "If I were Pietro, I'd make you and your sweetheart walk."
"If anyone should be walking it's you," Basta growled, "Beats me why Pietro let you in his car in the first place."
"She jumped him in the car park," Franco explained bemusedly, "Wouldn't let go until he said she could come with us."
"Well I was desperate," Orlanda said defensively, "I didn't have car. No one else was going to help me..."
"It's alright," Pietro soothed her in a voice that didn't lack a touch of irritation, "You don't need to explain yourself... again. Let's talk about something else."
"How about my car," Basta suggested with a growl in his voice, "Who the hell hijacked it tonight, obviously not Orlanda since she decided to hold you hostage instead."
"Shut up Basta," Orlanda snapped.
"Someone hijacked your car?" Dafne cut in over the top of her.
"Yes little mouse. That's why I had to leave on foot. When I find out who stole it, I'm going to..." Basta paused, deciding not to finish that train of thought aloud, "I bet it was Carlo. He doesn't have a car of his own."
"I could phone him if you like," Pietro said, "I have to call my famiglia anyway. Update them on what's going on."
"Yes call the little thief," Basta said, "Tell him he's going to regret..."
"Yes, yes," Pietro cut him off as he dialled the number, "Hello Carlito..." He spent a couple of minutes bringing Carlo up to speed about Silvertongue destroying the Shadow, Mortola poisoning herself...
"Ask him about my car," Basta hissed impatiently.
Pietro sighed.
"Cugino did you steal Basta's car?" he listened to Carlo's answer then turned to look at Basta in the backseat, "No he didn't. He's in Enzo's car."
"Oh," Basta looked disappointed to have his one suspect exonerated.
"It was probably one of the boys," Franco offered his own theory, "Most of them don't have their own cars."
"Stupid kids," Basta grumbled, "Taking things that don't belong to them."
Who taught them that I wonder, Dafne thought but didn't say it.
Meanwhile Pietro had returned to his phone conversation. He was talking to Carlo about hotels.
"That one sounds good. What's the address... Okay we'll meet there then. Tell the others. Also book our rooms for us. We'll need three. Oh and make one of them a honeymoon suite... For Dafne and Basta of course... Okay cugino, we'll see you soon. Ciao."
He hung up the phone and informed them they would be staying in a place called Stella del Mare. So would Carlo and his other relatives. They had nearly reached the next town by now anyway.
"And you and Dafne get to stay in a honeymoon suite, Basta. Isn't that exciting?"
"What's a honeymoon suite?" Basta asked almost suspiciously.
"It's a room done up all romantic and crap," Franco explained, "For couples you know, like newlyweds."
"Oh," Basta said with a twinge of embarrassment in his voice, "Okay."
Dafne was blushing slightly.
"You didn't need to do that," she told Pietro, "Any old room would have been fine."
"But it's a special occasion," Pietro insisted, "It's not every day your boyfriend escapes certain death. By the way Basta, how did you get out of that cage? I can't imagine Silvertongue let you waltz free."
Basta smirked,
"Actually he did. They all assumed I was dead you see. I didn't let them know different until the boy got the cage open," he chuckled, "It was easy enough to escape after that. Silvertongue was distracted. You'll never guess, little mouse, but Resa is..."
"Silvertongue's wife," Dafne said, "Yes I know."
"Oh," Basta sounded a little disappointed, "I thought that would really surprise you."
Dafne smiled. She was glad Resa had been reunited with her family. It was a shame she wouldn't get to say goodbye to her friend. But knowing she was happy was a nice consolation. So was knowing she and her family were free from danger with Mortola and Capricorn both dead. Still smiling, she laid her head in the crook of Basta's neck and closed her eyes. It didn't take her long to drift off into a happy sleep. They had already reached the next town by the time Basta roused her, with the Stella del Mare in sight.
It wasn't some small nondescript hotel. It looked rather glamorous, probably an expensive place to stay for people who weren't known around this town as Capricorn's men. No doubt they would be staying free of charge for fear they would burn the place down. The thought made Dafne slightly uncomfortable but she raised no objections. She had no money to pay for a room even she wanted to.
Carlo was standing outside entrance with Marietta and Giosetta. He opened his arms wide as they approached.
"Welcome," he said with a cheesy grin, as if he owed the place.
Marietta and Giosetta took turns hugging Dafne fiercely and fussing about her hands.
"Are you in a lot of pain?"
"Do you need a doctor?"
Dafne smiled at their concern. Seeing a doctor was a good idea but she could wait until the morning. Her hands hurt a little but she wasn't in complete agony.
"I'm fine for the moment. I took pain-killers."
"That reminds me," Orlanda started rooting around in her pocket, "You'll need these in the morning."
She held the bottle of pain-killers out to Dafne. She accepted them gratefully.
An uneasy-looking porter held the door open for them to enter the hotel. He bid them a polite good night, saying nothing about the cat they were taking inside, even though there was a sign stating no pets. Obviously house rules didn't apply to Capricorn's men. They stopped in the foyer to look around. The interior of the hotel was just as polished as the outside.
"Where's the rest of our brood?" Pietro asked Carlo.
Carlo smiled,
"Making themselves at home at the hotel bar."
Pietro rolled his eyes amusedly,
"I should have guessed."
"Good spot for a meeting place," Franco grinned, "I could use a drink."
"A glass of scotch would nice," Pietro agreed.
"They do cocktails," Marietta informed Dafne enthusiastically, "We should toast the fact the Mortola's dead."
"You know about that?" Dafne said.
"Carlo told us," Marietta started bouncing like an excited puppy, "So let's celebrate."
"Yes let's," Giosetta joined Marietta bouncing, "C'mon Dafne."
Dafne smiled at her friends' exuberance.
"I'm afraid I can't," she said, "Alcohol and medication don't mix."
Both women ceased jumping, their faces falling in disappointment.
"But you two go ahead," Dafne said encouragingly, "I don't mind. I'm pretty tired anyway."
Her friends nodded in understanding.
"Yeah rest's probably the best thing for you," Marietta agreed, adopting a maternal air, "My poor injured cupcake."
Giosetta giggled.
"She's not your poor injured cupcake. She's Basta's poor injured cupcake," she turned to Basta with a mock stern expression, "You look after her."
"Of course I will," Basta said indignantly. He obviously missed the jest in Giosetta's voice, perhaps because he was tired. He certainly looked it as he turned to Carlo and demanded their room key.
Carlo took a bunch of keys out of his pocket and sorted through them.
"Let's see, honeymoon suite, I think it's... this one."
He passed the key to Basta.
"Oh you got a honeymoon suite," Giosetta cooed, "That's really romantic."
"Yeah, we just got regular old rooms," Marietta said with a pout, "C'mon Giosie," she looped her arm with hers, "Let's go ask our so called boyfriends why we're so unworthy," she grinned at Dafne, "This place has a restaurant. We should meet for breakfast tomorrow. But not too early 'cause I want to sleep in. Let's say ten, ten thirty... quarter to eleven."
She and Giosetta enveloped Dafne in a group hug.
"Night," they chimed in almost unison.
Then they skipped off in what had to be the direction of the bar. The others soon followed, all but Orlanda wishing the couple a good night.
"Alone at last," Basta sighed. His gaze drifted down to Ignazio, who he had tucked under one arm, "Well almost."
It turned out their room was several stories up. Basta had never been in an elevator before. Travelling upwards in a metal box was not an experience he ended up enjoying.
"This place better have stairs somewhere," he said afterwards, "I'm not getting in that awful contraption again."
Dafne beamed with girlish excitement when she laid eyes on their room. It was lovely and elegant, with warm creamy walls and ornate furniture, including a massive four poster bed. Basta pointed to it, but the words that came out of his mouth were ones of vexation, not admiration.
"Why are there petals scattered on the bed?"
"I think it's for romantic effect," Dafne explained.
Basta stared at her uncomprehendingly,
"How is mess romantic?"
He dropped Ignazio onto the floor, grumbling about cleaning it up.
Dafne left him to it, taking a look inside the bathroom. There was a spa bath, and she found a pair of bathrobes. She changed into one, figuring it would do as something to wear to bed. She didn't want to sleep in her dress.
Afterwards she examined herself in the mirror. There was bruise under her eye, a memento from Capricorn, just like the burns on her hands. She wondered how long they would take to heal. Would she end up with scars similar to the ones on Basta's arms? The thought didn't bother her. She would wear any scars proudly, testament she had survived one man's evil.
Her reflection in the mirror smiled back at her.
Yes, she had survived. So had the man she loved.
She wandered back into the main room. Basta was sitting on the edge of a bed now free of any petals.
"There's another one in the bathroom," she said when he commented on her new attire, "If you don't want to sleep in your clothes."
"That's probably a good idea," he said and vanished to do just that.
Dafne slipped under the crisp sheets of the bed and lay there contently. A moment later Ignazio sprung onto the bed and curled up at her feet.
"Silly cat," she murmured, "He's not going to like you on the bed anymore than the flowers."
But Ignazio didn't budge, and sure enough Basta wasn't happy when he reappeared.
"What are you doing on the bed furball?"
Dafne came to the cat's defence,
"Keeping my feet warm," she said, "Don't move him."
Basta sighed,
"If that's what you want."
He sat on the bed and stroked her hair. Dafne smiled, enjoying the caress.
"Aren't you going to get into bed?" she asked him.
His fingers halted abruptly.
"I don't know," Basta said uncertainly, "Do you want me to?"
Dafne met his hopeful gaze. She knew he was asking because they had never shared a bed before. He wanted her consent.
"Yes," she answered softly.
She didn't want him anywhere else but right beside her. And as soon as he was under the covers, she moved to press her body against his. Immediately his arms wrapped around her.
"Comfortable?" he asked.
Dafne nodded.
"I'm glad I didn't lose you," she whispered, thinking back to when she thought he was dead, the pain she felt in that moment compared to the happiness she felt now, "So glad..."
"That makes two of us," Basta said, "I really thought I was going to die tonight."
The fear of this certainty was remanent in his voice. Dafne imagined him reliving dark moments in the execution cage. She kissed him, wanting to banish these memories, bring him back into the present. He kissed her back almost feverishly, gripping her tight.
"I love you," he said in a tone both grateful and tender. Then he covered her face with small kisses, "I love you little mouse."
"I love you too," Dafne replied, smiling with happiness.
To be continued...
Aw fluff ending :) Though this isn't the ending-ending. One, possibly two chapters left I think.
But let's talk about Mortola. Obviously she survives in canon Inkheart. I'll just say that she may or may not be dead in this. She could have saved herself with an antidote. I'll let you readers decide.