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held her breath as he turned on his heel without another word and
strode from the room.
    The moment the don left them alone, Maria Pia collapsed on the bed with them
in relief, conversing in whispers. "I never saw such a brazen thing,"
she admitted, "the way he touched you, made so free with you. The man must
be heathen. I have heard the rumors, but I did not believe them."
    "I saw a shrine to the Madonna in the great hall," Nicoletta
disputed, for some reason feeling the need to defend him. "If he is truly
without God, he would not have such a thing in his home. And he often meets
with the village priest and elders."
    "The old man, his grandfather—he is a heathen, that is certain. May the
good Virgin protect us from such a man." Maria Pia was solemn. "Look
at his home. Did you see the creatures in every alcove? The ancient dons
worshiped many gods and built this palazzo in defiance of the Holy Church. They
held back the armies of the invaders, some say with the power of many demons
behind them, but this palazzo is indeed cursed. For years there have been
rumors of murders, assassinations. Once, an invading army trapped the
famiglia
Scarletti here in the palazzo. When the soldiers breached the castle walls, the
family had simply disappeared, and most of the invaders died horrible deaths. A
few days later, the
famiglia
returned as if the invasion had never
happened." Shuddering, she held her crucifix in both hands and kissed it
several times. "We will leave this place at first light. The
bambina
is much better and will surely live. Someone here must be capable of giving her
her medicaments."
    Nicoletta tucked Sophie beneath the coverlet the child had restlessly kicked
off herself. She coaxed the child to drink the medicine-laced water, smiling
when the little girl clutched her hand. "Perhaps it would be best to
continue this conversation when we are alone," she advised quietly. She
leaned back and closed her eyes tiredly. Her calf was sore, burning and
throbbing, already swelling. If she hadn't been so tired, she would have mixed
a potion for herself. But first she wanted to sleep; and then she wanted to
leave the palazzo and get back to her own world, where she could breathe more
easily.
    "Nicoletta, the don is dangerous," Maria Pia announced softly.
"You have too much compassion in you. You are very young. There is
something wrong in this house. I do not like the way he looked at you."
    Nicoletta smiled without opening her eyes.
"Ti voglio bene."
She affectionately told the older woman she loved her. "Do not worry for
me. You have done so all my life. I will not see the don again. I love living,
Maria Pia. I do not want to be burned as a witch." She was smiling,
reassuring the woman, but inside she was trembling. The don frightened her in a
way no one ever had before, in a way she could not explain to Maria Pia or even
to herself.
    The older woman hissed, looking quickly into every corner of the room,
frightened by Nicoletta's audacity.
    "Hush,
bambina,
you cannot speak of such things. Not ever. The
good Virgin will not protect you if you call down such unspeakable evil upon
yourself."
    "The little one is asleep; there is no one to hear." Nicoletta was
unrepentant.
    "There are eyes and ears everywhere. This house is not right,"
Maria Pia reminded her sharply, glancing uneasily around the silent nursery. An
abrupt knocking broke the hush. Maria Pia gave a frightened cry as the door
swung inward.
    The manservant slunk in carrying a load of wood for the fire. He didn't look
at the women, his features stiff and set. He built a nest of curls of shaved
wood, added the logs, and set the whole thing blazing. When the flames crackled
to life, the man turned and regarded the "healer" and her
"assistant" with a cold stare. "Your fire, as ordered," he
said grudgingly. As much as he evidently wished the women gone, the healer was
respected and needed in the community, and he didn't dare alienate her
completely. He turned on his heel and