“But I’d rather walk.”
Sal shrugged, selected a key from a ring on his belt—large and old-fashioned, bigger than the rest—unlocked the gate, then pushed the doors back. They creaked, the hinges rusty and unwilling, revealing thigh-high drifts of snow on the other side. He pointed to a cleared stone path snaking around the exterior of the castle, wide as a moat. “If you follow that,” he said, “you can see the village from the east lawn.”
I thanked Sal again and hurried past the gate, happy to get away from him.
Stepping outside the protection of the castle walls gave me the first real sense of the ferocity of the Alpine wind. I was met with a glacial gale, a strong slap of force from the north. Walking into it, I followed the exterior ramparts alongside the castle. In the somber light of late afternoon, the castle, with its gray towers and shuttered windows, felt sinister, identical to Nonna’s grainy black-and-white photograph. The landscape was equally foreboding, the mountains casting a desolate shadow across my path. Now I understood what Nonna had meant when she said the castle was always dark. In such gloom, blue skies and sunlight seemed impossible.
Rounding a corner, I made my way uphill to the highest point of the grounds, the east lawn, where I was met by a wall of box hedges. Ducking through a small gate cut into the greenery, I entered a snow-covered expanse with a pond at the center, the surface a perfect circle of ice. In the spring, the pond would be so clear I would see a miniature civilization at the bottom—rocks and fish and frogs and moss. On warm afternoons, I would watch the shadow of the mountains float on the surface of the water, giving it the look of polished silver, convex, like an overturned spoon. But then, on that winter day, the pond was merely an extension of the frozen world, the colorless foreground to a vibrant greenhouse beyond.
After the castle, the greenhouse seemed a miniature paradise. It was a Victorian structure made of iron and glass, its paint chipped and rusting, the panes fogged, rimes of frost collecting at the edges. I opened the door and a rush of balmy air fell over me, heavy with moisture and fragrance. Flowers and fruit trees grew in clay pots from one end of the space to the other, their waxy green leaves pressing like hands against the windows. Masses of tomato plants climbed wire cones, the fat fruit nudging potted lemon trees. I shrugged off the fur coat and leaned into a lemon tree, inhaling the bright, sweet scent of citrus.
Seeing a wicker chair, I sat and stretched my legs. The sun was beginning to set, the light turning pink and orange on the granite rock face, a liquid light that seemed to drip from the peaks. The scene was beautiful, startling, like something you would see in a picture. And yet there I was, in real life, watching it unfold before me.
If only the truth about my family would unfold with such grace. So far, I couldn’t get anyone at the castle to give me a straight answer about anything. That my great-grandmother was alive was a surprise, yes, but it didn’t have to remain such a mystery. If Dolores would just explain what was wrong with Vita and why she was such a big responsibility, I would make arrangements with Zimmer to assist her. I would bring the matter up as soon as he returned with the helicopter.
The sunset was in its final moments of brilliance when, across the east lawn, Sal emerged through the gate in the hedge. He trudged past the pond, then turned toward the greenhouse. I didn’t have any reason to fear him, and yet I felt that there was something dangerous about Sal. It wasn’t only his gruff manner or his behavior at the gate that bothered me, but something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on. Perhaps I associated him with Fredericka’s attack and the painful scratch on my cheek, which wasn’t entirely fair. He was probably a perfectly nice guy who was trying to do his job.
And yet, as he walked toward the greenhouse, I grabbed the mink coat and ducked behind a potted lemon tree, crouching down as he stepped into the greenhouse. He lifted a basket and walked from one end to the other, picking vegetables and fruit. I heard the squeak of a faucet turning, then water