My knees shook. I felt my neck begin to jerk. ‘Steady.’ Baroque’s voice was loud in my ear. ‘Go further, deeper.’
I did as I was told, diving into the sensations. I wrested back control of my body. ‘You’re right. There’s something else here too, Baroque.’ Pictures of women picking these lovely plants filled my head, smiling women whose eyes sparkled and flashed like jewels. I saw them pounding the buds, the violaceous juices squirting. There was excitement, not caution. These women knew something, used the liquid for … I reached for it, but whatever it was eluded me. I withdrew and took a deep breath. I resisted the urge to stamp my foot. I was so close.
‘What is it?’ Baroque bent and examined my face.
‘I was almost there, Baroque. You’re right. The belladonna has many purposes and not all are bad.’
‘Then you have already learnt something very important.’ Baroque leant over the table. The candle flickered between us, throwing our silhouettes over the crushed belladonna, turning Baroque’s face into a dark prism. ‘Remember this, Tarlo. Even that which seems to serve only evil has another side. Good and bad co-exist. One may triumph over the other; it may be that you cannot find the good; you cannot discover the bad. But they’re all there. Sometimes you just have to search hard to find the other. When you do, expose what’s there and use it for your own ends.’
I looked at Baroque for a long moment, then at the belladonna. Baroque’s eyes were fixed to mine.
‘You’re not talking only about the flower, are you?’
Baroque sighed. ‘I am talking about the world, Tarlo. About everyone and everything around you. As an Estrattore, you have the capacity to extract both good and evil, that which is heinous and what is decent. Sometimes, you just have to search hard, look deeply to find it. Sometimes, you have to make a choice.’
Baroque’s hand covered my own. I could feel the roughness of the skin, the precious metal in the band he wore on his middle finger. Without thinking, I began to extract.
His eyes widened. ‘Don’t!’ He pulled his arm away so fast he banged it against the mortar. Pain twisted his features and he nursed his hand under his arm. ‘What do you think you’re doing? That’s forbidden!’
‘Mi dispiace! I wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t help it.’
Baroque slowly withdrew his hand and shook it a couple of times. ‘Of course you can help it. I see how careful you are all the time. I know you extract when you think no-one knows. But we do, Tarlo. We do. Your touch is still clumsy. We’re not made of wax, you know. We can feel you.’ He jabbed his chest. ‘Here. It hurts. Take what you want from the objects I bring, but leave me alone!’ He turned away.
I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. ‘How am I to trust you if you don’t let me know you?’
Baroque made a funny noise. ‘Trust me?’ He spun round and began to laugh. It was not a nice sound. He stormed across the floor and slammed the door shut. ‘Grow up, Tallow! You can’t trust me. You, my dear, can’t trust anyone, and the sooner you realise that, the safer we’ll all be.’ He shook his head. ‘Did you really believe that I was any different? Do you really think that you can trust any one of them up there?’ He stabbed his finger in the direction of the piano nobile. ‘Oh, Tallow,’ he smacked his forehead. ‘I thought you were learning. I thought you were smarter than that. You think a few shared laughs and an exchange of gossip is grounds for friendship? For trust? Not when you’re an Estrattore they’re not, and especially not with someone like me.’
My insides burned with shame and rage. I’d misread Baroque’s treatment of me so badly. Just because someone was nice to me, didn’t mean they were my friend. A tear rolled down my cheek. I used my shoulder to sweep it away. I had no friends. I coughed and cleared my throat, aware Baroque was waiting for an answer. I straightened my back. Self-pity did not become me. I was stronger than that. I had to be. I just couldn’t speak … not yet.
Baroque sighed and swung the door open, leaning against it. ‘Leave the belladonna, Tarlo. We’ll do that another day. The Maleovellis want some candles. Not your usual kind either. We’ve wasted enough time today. We need