Arcadia Awakens Read Online Free PDF Page A

dropped on Rosa’s forehead. “We’ve been looking forward to seeing you,” she said, and her beaming smile startled Rosa. When Florinda smiled, she looked kind and warmhearted. Only when her expression was serious was there an oppressive darkness to her gaze. Then it seemed as if she had a lot on her mind, and it had been troubling her for a long time.
    On the way to the house, Rosa glanced back at the helicopter. Now she noticed that its paint was flaking in many places. The pilot was evidently concerned about a thin plume of smoke rising from the rear engine. He stood on the grass in front of it, legs planted apart, hands on his hips, assessing the damage. A little later she heard the sound of a hammer on metal.
    The faded splendor of past centuries surrounded the Alcantara estate. The broad facade of the house cast its shadow on a graveled front courtyard with a large fountain rising in the middle of it. No water flowed from the mouths of the stone fauns. As she came closer, Rosa saw dozens of empty birds’ nests in the dry basin; someone must have removed them from the trees and collected them here.
    Wrought-iron balconies dominated the front of the palazzo. The wall was adorned with elaborate stucco work. Statues of pale brown tuff stone watched over the front courtyard from niches. Most of the sculptures were damaged, and almost all were overgrown with moss and lichen.
    Florinda led them through a tall, rounded arch. At the end of this tunnel gateway—some ten yards long, smelling of mildewed plaster, and surprisingly cool inside—lay a sunlit inner courtyard. There was a large flower bed in the middle of it, neglected and overgrown with weeds. The main part of the palazzo beyond the courtyard was taller than the other three wings, though it had the same kind of stucco ornamentation, iron balconies, and statues as on the outer facade. Two broad flights of stone steps, one on the left and one on the right, led up to the main entrance on the second floor. Part of the semicircular porch was open.
    Florinda asked about Rosa’s flight, and the connection in Rome. She herself, she added, thought the whole procedure was an unreasonable imposition. Rosa agreed with her.
    “Your sister says you’re a vegetarian,” said Florinda as she walked up the steps to the entrance with the two girls. The paint on the double door was flaking. A lizard scurried ahead of them over sun-baked stone and disappeared into the building.
    “I’ve been a vegetarian for years.”
    “I can’t remember hearing of any Alcantara who didn’t like meat.”
    “Well, someone here doesn’t like birds.”
    Florinda didn’t reply as she climbed the last step.
    Zoe shot Rosa a sideways glance. “Florinda hates their twittering. The gardeners have instructions to take all the nests out of the trees, and then once a month they’re burnt in the basin of the fountain, so the flames can’t get out of control. Forest fires are always a danger in these parts—don’t let all the green around here fool you. The whole island is dry as a bone in summer, specially when the sirocco blows over the sea from Africa.”
    “Sirocco?”
    “Hot desert wind. It often brings sand from the Sahara with it.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t do the skin any good.”
    “And the nests—”
    “ Only the nests,” her aunt interrupted her. “Not the birds.” She showed her winning smile again. “I’m not a monster.”
    Now they were in the entrance hall, which was high ceilinged, dark, and again full of faded magnificence. Florinda excused herself, saying she had to see about preparations for supper. Obviously she did the cooking herself. On Sicily, Zoe explained, no one ate a hot meal before eight in the evening.
    She took Rosa up a stone staircase with worn-down, carpeted steps, then through long corridors into the back part of the main house. They didn’t meet anyone else on the way.
    “I thought there’d be servants here.”
    “Not many,” said Zoe.