Prospero Regained Read Online Free PDF Page B

prayer.”
    Behind him, I could see Gregor’s shoulders relax. Apparently, Malagigi’s piousness assuaged my brother’s skepticism. He nodded his head in approval as he leaned upon his staff, at peace again.
    “We will pray!” one of the men promised.
    Malagigi helped the woman to her feet, and the three spirits of the dead departed together, each helping the other two along. Turning, Malagigi clasped Erasmus’s enchanted sleeve, laughing.
    “I hate to break up this nice reunion,” growled Mab, “but decent folk like Mr. Theophrastus may be burning as we speak.” Mab wiped his brow with his handkerchief then tipped his bedraggled hat toward Malagigi. “Begging your pardon, Harrower, but we’re looking for a guy who’s down here somewhere.” He gestured vaguely at the swamps and mires. “Any chance you could help us find him?”
    “Is he alive like you?” When Erasmus nodded, Malagigi chuckled. “That should be easy. Wait a moment, while I ask.”
    Malagigi bowed his head and knelt in prayer. A hush fell over the little beach. Gregor shifted his weight and prayed as well. Gregor praying was a common sight, but it was a bit odd to see the dashing French enchanter petitioning the Lord so humbly.
    Looking up presently, Malagigi said, “But of course! Your brother, Mephistopheles! The Greatest Swordsman in Christendom! He is this way. Follow me!”
    *   *   *

    MALAGIGI led us across the beach and onto a thin causeway that looped in and out of the many islands within the swamp. The sights and smells were as awful as before, but they seemed less onerous in the company of the Brotherhood of Hope. Malagigi insisted each of us should take a turn holding the star. So, after a time, Erasmus reluctantly slipped the silvery light to me. The shining silvery point began to sink through my hand, but I found that if I concentrated, I could keep it upon my palm. Despite its brightness, it felt cool and refreshing. A feeling of hope suffused my limbs and buoyed my spirits. For the first time since my Lady’s departure, I felt whole.
    *   *   *

    WE followed Malagigi and came to a gray, weathered dock that protruded over the swamp. A gondola was moored beside it, the rope creaking as the craft moved with the current. Its bottom was wider and flatter than the gondolas I remembered from Venice, but it had the same high, curled dolfin and risso rising up at the bow and stern respectively. Malagigi unhooked a long pole-oar that hung on one of the pylons and stepped onto the boat.
    “Are you sure this will hold us? We’re not dead, you know.” Erasmus prodded the gondola with his foot. It pushed out away from the dock and then drifted back. Erasmus put his hand on my arm and squinted, checking to see if the vessel changed its nature, if anything he was seeing were illusionary. Apparently, it stayed the same.
    “But of course, I know you are not dead! Unlike some people, I attend!” Malagigi jumped onto the gondola and gestured for us to follow. “This boat is made from wood that grows here. You can touch it for the same reason that you walk on this island or swim in the waters.”
    “That’s not very reassuring,” Mab grumped. He stared dubiously at the boat . “It’s not going to suddenly turn on us, like those mangrove trees, is it?”
    Malagigi chuckled. “Ran into those, did you? But surely you knew enough to remain calm, yes? Nothing in Hell can hurt you, so long as you remain calm. Trap you, yes, but not harm you. If you give in to passion, though—anger, fear, lust—then you become vulnerable, and … well, Heaven help you!”
    “Is that why I can’t touch you, but the men in the swamp were able to grab my foot—because I was annoyed?” I waved my hand through Malagigi’s shoulder as I stepped lightly onto the gondola. It bobbed but held my weight.
    “Anger gives them power over you.” Malagigi supported my elbow as I boarded, resting his fingers on my satiny sleeve. “Also, apparently,