"Well…" Diamante begins, pacing quickly from one side of the room to the other, the swish of her jacket tails and the click of her heels sounding like a stiff orchestra. "As you can see, things here are always… dramatic, let's say. I hold an important political role overseeing the balance of the Two Worlds. Unfortunately, I don't have much time for myself or for my family." Her voice is sharp, precise, like someone who's delivered that line a thousand times.
Ah, so you're that kind of person. Career first, everything else later.
"But I haven't stopped thinking about you for a second! I've even called Bruno several times," she hurries to add, lifting her chin slightly, as if that detail could make up for years of absence.
Oh, she even called. Well, then, everything's fine.
Every word coming out of her mouth swells inside me like thick, black rage pounding at my temples. What kind of grandmother forgets her grandson like that?
Fiore, intercepting (I think) my rising fury, slides into the conversation with surgical timing. "Diamante, there will be time to reconnect, but this isn't it."
He steps closer and lays a hand on my shoulder. The warmth of his skin seeps through the fabric of my shirt and reaches me like a sedative, pushing my anger down somewhere out of reach.
"Milo incinerated a demon by shooting a beam of light from his hands," Fiore says, turning to Diamante. "Since I've never seen anything like it, we're here to get some clarity."
Diamante presses her lips together slightly. "Incinerated? As in… evaporated?"
"Yeah… though 'pulverized' would be more accurate," I say, grimacing as the horrific image flashes back in my mind.
"Describe exactly what you felt," she orders, approaching with slow but steady steps. Her eyes, locked on mine, are more interrogative than concerned. "How did it manifest? What color was it? What sensations did it leave on your skin?"
"I don't remember clearly, it all happened so fast," I admit, uneasy under the sudden grilling. "What I do remember… it was like a magnetic force moving from my chest to my hand. Then my palm went cold, and a golden light shot out like a beam. It hit the demon square on, and its body… exploded, leaving only ash."
"Mmm. Unusual," she comments, frowning slightly, though her gaze remains tense. "I've never come across such an extraordinary power among the Intuitives. Of course, if I had the Heptameron, I'd understand better."
"Why? What's in the Heptameron?"
"It's a grimoire," Fiore cuts in, folding his arms. "They say inside are spells that allow you to summon angels and borrow divine powers."
"Like what a Cleric does in D&D?" I ask, surprised.
"Something like that," he replies, with a half-smile.
"In the Heptameron, the answer you're looking for is surely written," Diamante goes on, convinced.
"But… just now Fiore told me it was lost. What really happened to the Heptameron?" I ask, my voice coming out lower than I intended, as if I already knew I wouldn't like the answer.
Diamante pauses, letting the silence stretch for a few seconds. Her fingers, which just moments ago had been drumming nervously on the armrest of one of her adorable little armchairs, go still. "It was stolen many years ago. Snatched away in the middle of the night." Her voice is flat, but the tightness of her lips still betrays the frustration from back then. "Both the Heptameron and the Book of Command had been under the Council's supervision for decades. That's why I believe it was stolen by some Intuitive… or a Fantastic Creature."
She shifts toward the window as she speaks, staring out the glass as though the answer might be waiting outside. "It's been nearly a hundred years. No one knows where it is. I've spent my whole life trying to recover it. But…" a pause, her breath lowering in tone, "…then the Book of Command was stolen too. Twenty years ago."
"And the Book of Command… let me guess," I say sarcastically.
Her eyebrow arches, irritated. Fiore jumps in for her: "Yeah, you guessed it. It's a book that summons demons."
Perfect. So we lost the angels' manual and the demons' manual. Dan Brown, step aside. What could possibly go wrong?
"So…" I frown. "That sneaky thief is back, messing around summoning death-beasts?"
Diamante shakes her head, a sharp movement, as if to shake off my words. "Impossible. The one who stole the Book died twenty years ago. At Rocca Pendice."
I stiffen. "What are you saying?"
"No, I don't mean your parents." This time her tone is lower, her voice carrying a shadow. "There was someone else there that day."
She's about to go on, but the creak of the door interrupts us. A hooded figure slips into the room, and I don't even get the chance to see their face before Diamante turns toward them, impatient. "I'm coming, I'm coming."
Then, back to me: "We'll talk about this another time. For now, I need to get back to work. In the meantime, I'll try to learn more about your… hand problem. The higher members of the Lodge might have more information."
She rests one of her sharp-nailed hands on my shoulder. It's a light touch, but it's the kind that pins you in place.
"Milo… I know I haven't been the best grandmother all these years, but if you're here… maybe there's a reason. Maybe this is my second chance."
For a moment, her eyes lose that political sharpness of a leader and become… human.
"I don't want to waste it."
For the first time in our whole conversation, she sounds sincere. I want to believe her. Really. But the lump in my throat tells me it's not that simple.
So I just nod slowly.
"I'll send for you as soon as I have news."
"Want me to leave you a number?"
"No. Fiorenzo will handle it."
"Hey!" Fiore throws his arms wide, exasperated. " I'm not your secretary, Diamante. And don't forget why I'm here."
She smirks. "I haven't forgotten. Now go. See you soon," she says, curtly.
I leave her my number anyway (more for my peace of mind than because she asked), and together Fiore and I head out.
He's visibly annoyed: shoulders stiff, stride quick, hands buried in his pockets. He passes me without looking back, and I end up half-trotting after him down the corridor.
We reach the entrance, and he suddenly stops short. "Ah! Damn, I almost forgot. I need to talk to Zuan too. Otherwise, the Massariol will bug me for a hundred years. See you!"
He turns to go.
"Wait a sec!" I blurt out and, without thinking, grab his wrist.
He is taken aback by the contact. The warmth of his skin hits me like a jolt, and for a moment we lock eyes.
"Uh… sorry." I let go right away, embarrassed. "Just explain one last thing first… How the hell do you get out of here?"
Fiore bursts out laughing, finally with genuine lightness. "Step through that door over there and think of your destination. You'll land right there."
He waves a quick goodbye and bolts into the nave.
I stand there for a moment, watching his beautiful figure vanish, then turn toward the door. I open it.
A blink later, I'm in my living room.
What a total madhouse of a day.