The Mosaic

Chapter 46 | Devout Devils

There was a devil at church.

Laelia tip-toed down the aisle, but her steps seemed to roar ahead on the marble floor.  It was noon, the cathedral deserted save for an old woman racing though her rosary, and the two priest at the altar.

Churches always felt like a different dimension to Laelia. The lively, loud marketplace seemed miles away. Despite the dusty heat outside, the air inside was still and cool. Pale columns and sharp arches under the faraway roof. Laelia felt like she had stepped into the bleached carcass of a dragon, wandering the arcade of his rib cage.

And the devil was waiting for her at the head.

Technically, he wasn't -- he was just talking to the man kneeling in front of him. The stark white hair clearly belonged to Marius, head bowed for the other man. Technically, the man wasn't a devil either, but the bishop of Florence himself.

Though, in Laelia's opinion, the men of the church were closer to the devil than to god. They bathed in wine and gold, when the poor struggled to keep the few rags from falling of their gnarly shoulders. She didn't think there was a god (there had to be a natural explanation for thunder, they just didn't know it yet!), but if there was, he was a big old meanie. And a hypocrite.

And she'd much rather study the inside of man, than philosophize about an old man with a cloudy beard. Not that they would let her, that was a sin. Most things she knew, she knew from her mothers experience, or the strange scrolls Antonio had gifted her once, filled with intricate drawings of bones and hearts and veins. Antonio had translated them for her, the long, slanting curves of his handwriting contrasting the sharp black calligraphy of the Arabian scholars.

Laelia could long read Arabian herself -- she had studied in secret, her mother loathed the 'bloodthirsty camel breeders' -- but she would still brush her fingers over his notes. He had translated all the volumes, for her. Laelia quickly shook her head. Dangerous thoughts, begone!

She quickly skipped ahead, passing the last row of empty benches.

Up close, the bishop was definitely a demon. A very handsome one. Chestnut hair, long waves gleaming darkly, a sharp goatee and twirled mustache, narrow eyes. Bright violett robes, velvet and silk lined with golden embroidery. Golden cross around his neck, golden rings, golden tipped boots. He was smiling softly down at Marius.

The priest hadn't noticed her yet, sunken in prayer. Perhaps that was why when he raised his head to kiss his bishop's ring, his lips lingered, and the devil's hand turned to cup his cheek for just a moment. Heavy robes rustled as Marius got up, the black silk so plain in comparison to the purple peacock devil. Laelia giggled at that -- purple peacock devil.

Marius startled, twisting around to catch her slapping a hand over her lips. He smiled when he recognized her, floating down the low stairs of the podium. "Laelia," he greeted, bowing his head.

She had insisted he called her by her first name. Last names were weird. Like verbally holding people at arms length. "Father!" She grinned. Then she realized why she was here and it fell right of her lips.

Marius frowned. "Is everything alright?"

Laelia fidgeted. How do you say 'I called my best friend, who saved me from death and boredom countless times, disgusting and evil' ? Without sounding really, really mean? She really hadn't meant it! She loved Gio! She thought he was funny, and sweet, and a bit weird, and overprotective, and he could do the best magic tricks and  -- she should've told him that. 

"Can I help?"

Marius was the best. He didn't pry, just offered his arm, his time and his hear. If anyone ever dared give him hell for actually being named Maria before, she'd spoon-feed them her best poisons. All of them. At once.