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“Get lost!” Tonelli shouted, kicking them away.
Dante and Gaetano crossed to the horses, exchanging looks.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
Lucia streaked across the countryside in the darkness, her path lit by moonshine. She had to catch up with Dante in his quest to find his father and Enrico Tonelli. She couldn’t imagine why Baron Pisani had let him go so far. She honestly didn’t know what men were up to. Women had so much more sense.
Her long white hair flew behind her, and her bag bounced across her body. She rode bareback, having learned to ride on the wild mules and donkeys roaming Sicily. Nor did she accept any bridle, grabbing the coarse black mane. Her horse was as black as midnight, named Mezzanotte.
Lucia galloped nimbly, making her way on terrain she knew better than her own body. She’d been to the mining region in Caltanissetta province, so she wasn’t surprised when the elevation changed, the air smelled drier, and the vegetation turned scrubbier. The ground hardened, and each hoofstrike traveled up Mezzanotte’s legs, roughening her ride.
Finally, she spotted Mussomeli in the distance. The sun was beginning to rise, lightening the sky to pinkish gray. If Dante was already there, she wouldn’t be that far behind. She couldn’t wait to see him again.
Suddenly, two wolves leapt from the underbrush, their fangs a whiteblur. Lucia screamed. She fumbled for her knife bag, but Mezzanotte reared, neighing and pawing the air.
Lucia flew off his back. The wolves kept coming. Mezzanotte galloped away, his hoofs thundering.
Lucia landed on the hard ground, striking her head on a rock. Pain arced through her skull. She felt stunned. She raised her hands against the wolves. She heard growling and felt the heat of their breath.
She lost consciousness.
When she woke up, shewas looking at a wizard.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR
Lucia lay on her back, looking up at the wizard. He peered down at her, holding an oil lamp. His long white hair hung down, and his hooded eyes were animated with concern. He had wispy white eyebrows, a lined face, and a long white beard. He looked thin, little, and ancient in an old shirt and pants.
Lucia blinked, bewildered. “Are you awizard?”
“No, I’m an old man. Are you a golem?”
“No, I’m a young woman. I don’t know what a golem is.” Lucia shifted to a sitting position and touched her head, which ached. Blood warmed her fingers, glistening darkly. She was on the cold floor of a cave. She remembered she had fallen off Mezzanotte when wolves attacked them. “My name is Lucia.”
“Mine’s Alfredo.”
“What happened to the wolves?”
“I distracted them with some rabbits I had. I was out hunting when I saw your horse spook and the wolves attack. I had caught a few rabbits, so I threw them to the wolves and got you out of there.”
“How?” Lucia asked, astounded.
“I put you on my cloak and dragged you here.”
“How ingenious! You saved my life,” Lucia told him, overwhelmed with gratitude. “They would have killed me.”
“They would have, yes. They were hungry.” Alfredo set down the lamp. “Why are you so white? I thought it was clay.”
“I have a medical condition.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Only my eyes, when it’s bright, but I have dark spectacles now.”
“How nice.” Alfredo offered her a pouch of water. “Would you like a drink?”
“Yes, thank you.” Lucia sipped some, passing it back.
“I have your horse. He’s outside. He came to me, a very fine fellow. Unfortunately, he’s lame behind.”
