CHAPTER 2

My plan worked pretty well. The heat beneath our hands intensified until I could barely stand it; I felt caught, like my skin was becoming fused to the stone of the tomb wall, and feared both options—ripping it away or never being able to do so again. The light became our cue. Above us, the hole again showcased a time-lapse video of trees growing and falling, burning, growing again. Everything was heavy, slow motion and yet scary fast, dreamy, like moving through water with ankle weights. The hole above us disappeared, the grave robbers come and gone in a partial breath, and then the entrance stone was gone, letting light rush in from the side.

That’s when I saw it.

A pile of clothes, right in the center.

A scroll, rolled and tied.

Marcello.

I looked into Lia’s eyes and screamed, “Now,” as I pulled my palm from the searing heat. My shout came and went so fast it was impossible for even me to hear, but Lia knew. She’d been watching.

At that point I couldn’t feel Mom. But when I fell back, on top of her, I laughed in relief. Seconds later, Lia appeared beside us. We lunged to catch her and managed to break her fall, then laughed in relief and hugged one another.

“That was crazy! I’ve never experienced anything like it,” Mom said, her eyes alight.

“Yeah,” I agreed. There was something oddly comforting in having Mom with us. Like she could save us from whatever this time had to dish out. I smiled along with her. Lia rose, face glum.

“Everyone in one piece?” Mom asked, staring at each of us as if she wanted us to count off ten fingers and ten toes.

“Fine, fine,” I said. I felt my side. Still all healed, as if I’d had the wound ten years rather than just getting it days ago.

“No ache in your gut?” Lia said. “No poison?”

I shook my head. “Whatever happens in that time tunnel seems to fix whatever is wrong. I’m good.” I stood up and made my way to the clothing. Marcello had been thoughtful enough to recall my awkward twenty-first-century clothes from the last time I showed up and had figured out a way for me to avoid the embarrassment again. He’d hoped I’d return—the clothes proved it. Not that I really needed proof. I remembered his intense demand, uttered less than an hour ago for me, weeks for him—“Return to me, and you shall find me waiting.”

I handed Mom a gown. “Trust me, you’ll want to put that on.”

Lia was fortunately still in hers, and since Marcello’d left two, I could slip on the other and be done with the bloody one. I reached for the note and unrolled the parchment scroll, fighting the urge to run all the way to the castle as I read it.

Gabriella, welcome. Please, hasten to the castle at once, but be especially cautious of enemies about. They would consider your capture a sure victory. I await you.—Marcello

“He’s waiting for me,” I said, letting the scroll roll up again. “At least he was.” I looked beside the clothing. My broadsword, with its sheath worn on the back, and a dagger. Beside it, Lia’s bow and arrows. I reached for the sword and wiped a fine layer of dust from the hilt. How long had it been lying here? How long had I been gone, really?

“These men know you?” Mom said, picking up and studying the finely crafted bow before handing it to Lia.

“I told you,” Lia said grumpily. “This place is rough. We may very well have to fight for our lives.”

Mom stared at her for a long moment. Judging from her face, it was all sinking in. “Well, let’s make the most of it, shall we?” Her face was exploding as much with anticipation as wariness. “How do we explain ourselves? Surely you had to concoct some sort of story.”

I looked at Lia, and we pieced together as much as we could in regard to what we had said. “We’re from Normandy. You are a merchantress but have been missing for a while. That’s our cover story—it’s what brought Lia and me to Toscana, to search for you, where we last heard from you.”

“I am a merchant? In what goods do I trade?” Mom paused, and her fingers went to her lips. “And tell me, what sort of Italian is this that is coming out of my mouth?”

“Dante’s own, I think,” I returned, in the same dialect. “It comes with the leap. You’ll find the medieval-speak comes fairly easy too. It’s kind of like watching one of Shakespeare’s plays—you know, at first, you can barely keep up with what they’re saying, and then, boom, you hear it coming out of your own mouth. Oh, and you deal in ancient artifacts,” I said with a grin. “Although they’re fairly superstitious about entering old tombs. You’ll have to be careful on that front.”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t like it if you started excavating,” Lia said. “Think like a medieval merchant, Mom.”

Lia picked up her arrows, then moved toward the entrance and crawled out to the edge.

“All clear?” I asked. Last time, I’d emerged into the center of a battle between the Forellis and Paratores.

“All clear,” she said over her shoulder. Quickly, I put on my deep green gown, and pulled on the matching slippers. I helped Mom with hers, a blue one probably meant for Lia, and then we moved to join her outside.

I sucked in my breath. We’d left in the heat of summer. Now a cold wind blew up through the valley, shaking leaves of autumn from the oaks. “Okay, so I missed our exit point by a few months.” Or was my whole time-exchange concept off? Maybe it didn’t matter at all.

“Let’s hope it’s the same year,” Lia said, sliding her bow over her shoulder.

My heart paused and then pounded at her words. What if I was off by a year or more? What if Marcello was no longer a guy about my age, but rather a middle-aged man? I shivered.

That would be…awkward.

Mom pulled up short as we came around the bend, staring with wide eyes at the Forelli castle ahead of us—and then back behind us, where the Paratore towers just barely peeked over the hilltop.

“I told you,” I said, looping my arm through hers.

“I see it,” she said, bringing her hand to her forehead and shading her eyes, still staring at the castles, “but I’m still trying to believe what I’m seeing.”

I studied them with her, trying to remember that feeling of utter surprise the first time I’d seen both castellos in their original splendor and perfection. But my eyes settled on the flags waving in the brisk fall wind. Both the Paratore and the Forelli castellos were flying the Forelli gold. So they’d managed to hold it, even with the newly drawn border. I wondered if that meant the Sienese forces were constantly under attack. The Fiorentini—the people of Firenze—would not, could not deal with such a shift. No wonder Marcello had left the warning of “enemies about.” We moved down the path and soon crossed the narrow river. Cautiously, we picked our way through the woods, telling Mom all we could from our last visit so she’d be prepared, ready for what was ahead.

Lia was telling her about Lord Paratore, and her escape, and of Luca and Marcello, when we reached the creek, barely trickling at this point in the season. “This was the border between the properties when we arrived,” I said, balancing on a large rock and hopping to the next. “It changed course at some point, going the opposite way around the hill with the tombs, and suddenly, bam, the Paratores thought they could claim it for Firenze. Of course, they weren’t really thinking the Forellis would fight ’em for it.”

I looked back and saw that Mom was stuck again, her face stricken. I glanced at Lia, and she looked back to me with concern. Yeah, my mom was getting it now, for sure. And apparently, she wasn’t into this kind of reality.

“Mom?”

“I’m fine,” she said to me, but she sat down awkwardly on a boulder, so distracted that she almost missed it. She looked to the forest ahead—the castles were no longer in sight—and then over to us. “I just realized that if all this is true, then all of what you told me is true.” Her big eyes found mine. “You almost died.”

I held her gaze a moment and then nodded soberly. “Yes. It’s true. But I also felt alive, really alive, Mom, for the first time. I feel alive here,” I amended. “There is something here that we’re missing in our own time…something I can’t really define.”

Lia let out a dismissive sound and jumped across three rocks. “I’ll give you your definition. It’s spelled M-a-r-c-e-l-l-o.”

Cute, I said to her silently with my thank-you-very-little expression. “It’s more than that,” I said to Mom. “Maybe it’s because these people”—I waved around us—“are so close to death all the time that they know something we don’t—how to embrace life. Really live. Take every minute for what it’s worth. Maybe we’ve lost something vital in our own time, something—”

“Don’t let her get all philosophical on you, Mom,” Lia cut in from the other side of the shallow stream. “It’s love that made her want to come back. If Marcello wasn’t here, we wouldn’t be here, no matter how bad you wanted to test the theory.”

Mom stared at me for a long moment until I shrugged and said, “She’s probably right. But still, there’s something more. Wait and see. You’ll know what I’m talking about.” I jumped across the remaining stones and slid back into my slippers as Mom hopped across too.

We heard the horses approaching before we saw them.

“Quick, hide,” I said, pulling my sword from its sheath. We separated, Mom hiding behind a boulder, and Lia and me sliding between thick trees. She drew an arrow over her bowstring.

The men came galloping past and broke formation as they crossed the riverbed. Three pairs, heading north toward Firenze. Behind us, at Castello Forelli, bells clanged. They were sounding the alarm. More answered ahead, at Castello Paratore.

A scouting party from Firenze sent to judge the current condition of Siena’s hold on this corner of the republic. I was sure of it.

We heard more horses and sank deeper into the foliage.

Twelve men in Forelli gold galloped past in pursuit, so fast I barely caught a glimpse. I edged out, torn between crying out to them and hesitating to interfere in a chase. But as I stepped forward, I knew that the man at the front was Marcello.

Marcello.

The shout died in my throat. I felt suddenly shy, wondering if things were the same between us, or if they’d changed in whatever time had gone by. For him.

The men crossed the riverbed and gathered speed up the road on the other side. I looked around nervously, wondering if there might be enemy knights about, if I was foolishly giving up on the only protection my mom and sister and I really had.

Marcello.

It was then that he raised his hand and pulled up. He cocked his head, like he was listening, while his men streamed past him, belatedly pulling back on their own reins.

Marcello wheeled his horse around and studied the length of the river. At last, his eyes met mine. He was in motion so fast, dismounting, running, it made my heart skip a beat. Luca reached for his reins, frowning, looking toward us, wondering what had drawn his master’s attention.

But Marcello’s eyes were only on me.

I let out a low cry and ran toward him, too, ignoring the puddles of water that I trudged through to meet him in the middle of the riverbed.

He reached me at last and swept me into his arms, kissing my cheeks, my eyes, my hair. “Gabriella, Gabriella,” he moaned. He pulled back and stared at me, as if he thought I was a ghost. “You returned,” he said softly, cradling my cheeks in his hands. “You returned,” he repeated in a whisper.

“Yes,” I said, grinning.

“You are well? Whole? Healed?”

“Completely.”

“God on high be praised. I prayed for it, every waking hour of every day.” He kissed me then, shortly, his lips lingering on mine for a moment. The men hooted and teased Marcello. Luca was there, then, as were my sister and mother.

But I didn’t miss the fact that two men took up a protective stance on their mounts on each side of us, forming a barrier. Danger was clearly all about.

Marcello seemed to remember himself. We stepped apart, and he bowed toward my mother. “Lady Betarrini, I presume. Your daughters favor your beauty. I would’ve known you anywhere. I am Sir Marcello Forelli. This is my cousin and captain, Luca Forelli.”

“Sir Marcello and Sir Luca,” she said with a regal nod that made her look every inch a true lady. “My daughters told me of your kind hospitality when they were here last. I am most indebted to you.”

“It is I who am indebted to you, m’lady,” he said with a bow. “You have allowed Lady Gabriella to return. Kindly accept our escort and shelter at Castello Forelli again. It would honor us greatly.”

“You are most kind,” she said. “We accept.”

“M’lady,” Marcello said to Mom. “May I have a moment with Lady Gabriella?”

Mom paused for a second, and her eyes flicked back and forth between us. She gave a long, slow nod, and I had to wonder a bit about her. Since when did she have a dramatic side? Or was she just playing up the whole Mom role because I hadn’t asked permission for this Seriously Dating thing?

Marcello smiled and set my hand atop his. We walked down a small deer path and past some trees. When we had a measure of privacy, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me, slowly, then more searchingly. Carefully, as if he suspected I was still injured. Then he pulled me close and asked, “Was it a horrible ordeal, Gabriella? Did your doctors find a way to heal you?”

“Nay,” I said, pulling back enough to look up and into his eyes. “There’s something about the portal that heals, Marcello. The poison, the wound, the bleeding when I left…it was all as if it had happened years before. As soon as I arrived it was gone. I could still see the blood upon my gown, and there is a scar, but I suffered no longer. All was well.”

“’Tis a miracle,” he said, stroking my hair. He lifted my hands to his lips and kissed them, staring into my eyes. “You are a miracle. Here. Now. God has been gracious to return you to me.”

I smiled and nodded. How else could I explain it?

“You are here for good, Gabriella?” he asked. His brown eyes, so warm, so searching, begged me to make the promise. I wanted to. Everything in me said I had to stay with this man forever, every minute of every day I could spare. There was no other place I wanted to be.

“I do not know,” I said, forcing the words from my lips.

He frowned. “How can you not know? You have your sister, your mother. Me. What else do you need?”

“It is not I who would need anything more,” I said. “But Mom—my mother—and Lia…Marcello, it’s a lot to ask of them.”

“We will simply have to convince them that the Ladies Betarrini belong here.”

I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my lips again. “And you think that an easy task, then? Choosing to move to another era?”

“I can be quite charming,” he said smugly. His eyes narrowed. “Mayhap you’ve missed that.”

I laughed under my breath. Hardly. “Nay, m’lord. I have not.”

“Excellent. Then we shall simply turn our efforts toward your sister and mother. Together, we shall convince them that this is where you belong.”

He wasn’t going to get an argument from me. He leaned down and closed his eyes, gently kissing me, then broke it off just when I wanted to pull him closer. “Come, m’lady. We must get to the castello. I have neglected your security in a selfish desire to have you to myself.”

“Those men we saw…”

“Spies from Firenze. They’ve been relentless since you’ve been gone. We’ve caught several of them. But still they come, seeking to find the weakness that will bring us down. Our days of battle are far from over. And you, my love, are at the heart of it. I’ve heard that men of Firenze have searched from Napoli to Venezia for the Ladies Betarrini.”

“Us?” I said. “What do they want from us?” I glanced toward my mom and sister as they came into view, taking comfort in the sight of Marcello’s men still acting all commando around them.

“Nothing good, I can assure you,” he said, pulling me into an embrace that spoke of shielding, shelter.

Nothing good. “I’m fairly adept at making friends, but it seems even better at making mortal enemies, no?”

Marcello pulled back and smiled at me with that grin I loved, his eyes glinting. “All fine leaders tend to have such effect. But now I must insist we take our conversation to the safety of the castello.”

I stifled a sigh as we moved back to the path and rejoined the group on the road. Luca was making Lia giggle.

“Mayhap we shall have assistance in our quest to convince your family to remain,” Marcello said in my ear.

“Mayhap,” I said. But I knew it’d be tough to sell either of them on the idea. Mom would probably want to try to reach Etruscan times. Seriously, how could she pass it up? My only hope was to get her all intrigued with medieval society and the history on the verge of the Renaissance, a tall order. But my sister? She wanted life as we’d always known it. Safe, secure, easy. And if Mom or I were in danger…if we neared death again? It’d be all over. She’d lose it, totally lose it.

He gestured to his men, and two brought horses forward. Luca reluctantly lifted Lia up behind Giovanni, looking like he wished he was to be the one to bring her to the castello. Another knight lifted my mother atop of Pietro’s mount as Marcello helped me to the back of his and then carefully rose to his own saddle so as to not unseat me. I wrapped my arms around his waist, inhaling the scent of him—all forest and spice and everything nice.…

I wasn’t dreaming. We’d made it. “How long have we been gone?” I whispered, remembering that I’d need to know such facts.

“Almost three months,” he said lowly over his shoulder. “Every hour seemed like a day to me.” We rode in silence for a bit. “It is good you returned with your mother in tow. We told everyone that after seeking out a doctor, you had gone in search of her. Which, of course, was what sent our enemy to seeking you as well.”

“Perfetto,” I said, pulling a bit closer to him and resting my cheek against the breadth of his back. “At least it kept a few of them busy and away from you.”

Too soon for my taste we arrived at the castle. It felt too good to be holding onto Marcello to let go just yet.

Guards, twice the number as there had been when we left, lowered their bows when they saw the Forelli gold. One shouted his greeting: “Caught yourself some pretty Ghibellines, m’lord?”

“Nay, even better,” Marcello shouted back. “Guelph, through and through.”

One shouted our names when he recognized us. “The Ladies Betarrini!”

“None other,” Marcello said. “Open the gates!”

“Open the gates!” repeated the guard.

We heard the metallic slide of the giant reinforced crossbeam. Marcello, out on patrol. Gates, sealed up tight. Double the normal guards at the parapets. I shivered. “You are expecting a battle today, even after chasing those spies out?”

“The Fiorentini do not mount an all-out war, but they poke at us, constantly. We have to be ever at the ready. We’ve lost five men.”

“And the Fiorentini?”

I could feel the laughter rumble in his chest. “Far more.”

“What of Siena? They are coming to your aid?”

“There is a contingent in Castello Paratore and another beyond Castello Forelli. Truly, we are on the brink of war if this continues. But rest assured—we are far from alone.”

That comforted me. The night we’d taken Castello Paratore and freed Lia had been a brutal one. I’d hate to encounter twice the number of enemies without twice the number of allies.

I smiled as the courtyard came into my view, bustling with activity. Clearly, there were many visitors from Siena and beyond. As one of the most northernmost outposts for the Commune of Siena, Castello Forelli was destined to be a hub for politicians, soldiers, and merchants alike. Far more than when I first arrived. But it’s been three months.

We pulled to a stop. Marcello dismounted, then reached for me. I took his arm, barely able to keep myself from grinning.

And then I saw her, across the clearing, on the arm of another, dimly familiar man. Heading our way.

Lady Romana Rossi.

Marcello’s intended. Possible assassin. Had she tried to poison me?

I stopped and glanced at Marcello.

His brows lowered over his handsome brown eyes. “I shall explain.” He shook his head. “Please. Tread carefully. Our betrothal pledge has been broken. But other alliances had to be considered.”

I looked from him to the diminutive woman approaching. What did he mean, it was broken? Then why was she still here?

“Lady Betarrini,” she said, smiling just a bit too sweetly. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Lady Rossi,” I said, trying my best to give her a civil nod. Had she known? Given the doctor the directive to poison me? Or had she been an innocent pawn?

“We welcome your return,” said the man beside her.

My eyes shifted to him and then widened. “Fortino!” I grinned. He’d changed so much, I hadn’t recognized him. He’d gained a good twenty pounds and had a healthy pink tinge to his cheeks. Now he was clearly Marcello’s brother, similar in stature, although Marcello was taller and slightly broader. “It is good to see you so well, m’lord.”

“It is good to be so well,” he returned with a nod. “We have continued the treatments you prescribed, and I have enjoyed far better health.”

“I am so glad,” I said. I wished I could go to him and hug him. It was a miracle, to leave him sicker than I’d ever seen anyone and find him well just hours later.

“You were reunited with your mother?” he asked, looking beyond me to Lia and Mom, who came up behind us.

“Indeed. M’lord, may I present Lady Betarrini?”

“M’lady, it is a distinct pleasure,” Fortino said, bowing. On his arm, Romana curtsied prettily, the very picture of femininity. “This is my wife-to-be, Lady Romana Rossi.”

I stiffened.

Fortino? With Romana? Other alliances had to be considered.

Lady Rossi turned her catlike eyes to me. “Lord Marcello was quite taken with you, Lady Betarrini,” she said, barely covering the jealousy in her tone. “It left us at significant odds, as you can imagine, with both houses so intent upon our union. Thank the saints that you proved to be as adept a healer as you were a…” She smiled demurely, apparently catching herself from saying something nasty. “Figurehead,” she finished. “Fortino made such excellent gains on his health.” She smiled up at him, and he smiled down at her. “We’d always been fond of each other. It wasn’t long before Fortino arrived at the perfect solution.”

Fortino. Yeah, right, it was all his idea. Sure. The chick had seen that Fortino was going to recover and become lord of the castle so she went for him instead. It probably would’ve happened even if I had never showed up, if Fortino had improved. This girl was all about the power.

My mom and I shared a look, and that second of silent understanding, connection, took me back. How long had it been since we’d done that? For years, the most I’d seen of my mother’s eyes was in the rearview mirror on the way to a dig site. Well, except for when my dad died. That’d brought all three of us together in a new way. Not close, exactly. But closer. For the worst reasons I could’ve imagined.

Thoughts of Dad made me think of Lord Forelli. I hadn’t seen him since we arrived. “And what of your father, Marcello?” I asked carefully, already guessing the answer.

“His weak heart gave way a fortnight after you departed,” he said.

Everyone crossed themselves, like they were warding off evil spirits or something. Awkwardly, my mom, sister, and I did the same, a second too late to really blend in.

“What of Lady Rossi’s trusted doctor?” I asked lightly, speaking my true intent—you know, the guy who poisoned me?—to him with my eyes. “Was he ever found?”

“He was a blackguard. An agent of the Fiorentini,” Marcello said levelly, silently asking me with slightly widened eyes to let it go. I’ll fill you in later, he seemed to be saying.

“My father discovered the treachery,” Lady Rossi said. “He went to Marcello, and they captured both the doctor and Lord Foraboschi as they tried to escape to Firenze.”

“Trust me when I say that they paid for their crimes,” Fortino said. “Men shall think twice before aiding our enemy.”

But the doctor and Lord Foraboschi had been close to the Rossis for years. My eyes flicked over Romana, who was adoringly looking up at Fortino. How could her father, one of the ruling Nine, be so duped?

I wasn’t buying it, but Fortino seemed earnest, like he was trying to reassure me with this news. Perhaps Romana was innocent after all…and I was being overly suspicious. “I am glad to hear that they faced justice and are dead,” I said to Fortino. “I confess, I worried they might still be about.”

Mom tucked her head, frowning at my radical words. It’d take her a little while to get into this It’s Us or Them mind-set. Not that I was eager for her to know that the Fiorentini were on an all-out search for me and Lia. Marcello’s odd hesitation, and the look I’d caught the brothers sharing, made me return my attention to him.

Marcello edged closer. He shook his head a little. “Gabriella, they were tortured and imprisoned. But they were recently traded for Sienese prisoners.”

He took my hand, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught Romana stiffening. “They are far from here, Gabriella. No one shall harm you again. Not if I can help it.”

They were beautiful, warm words. But I knew that no person could protect another from death. Life was life—temporary, a blip on the screen. The doctor had poisoned me while Marcello danced with Romana in the same room! And Dad had died on a road not two miles from our apartment, maybe ten minutes after talking to Mom on the phone.

My eyes moved to Romana. Castello Forelli still might have a devil within her gates, a serious threat. Staring at her—pretty, demure, all Girl in Love—I knew I had to be right.

Or was I just jealous, wanting her gone from my life? This woman who almost became Marcello’s wife?