The Witch in the Lake Read Free Page B

you do that, you may learn to change its deepest nature. And then, Leo, you will be practising the Metamorphosis of the Pericolo family.’
    Leo glanced around the room, thrumming his fingers on the table. ‘What about Pidgy? Could I change him, say, into a wolf?’
    Leo’s pigeon, which he’d rescued in the forest two years ago, perched on the arm of a chair. He blinked back at Leo, as if amazed at the suggestion.
    â€˜Consequences,’ said Marco. ‘Think of the consequences first. Ask yourself, what will happen if I do this? Would I rather have a pet wolf? Should I take the power of flight from my good friend?’
    Leo watched Pidgy flutter his wings. ‘Oh, no,’ said Leo, in sudden horror. ‘Pidgy would hate being a snarly, earthbound creature. Oh, Pidgy, I wouldn’t do that to you,’ and Leo put out his finger for the bird to perch upon.
    â€˜One of the first things to learn,’ said Marco, his voice suddenly deep and heavy, ‘is that you never use your power for its own sake. It’s not a toy to be played with—and you must never discuss it with anyone. It . . . annoys some people.’
    Leo stared at his father.
    Marco sighed, spreading his hands. ‘There are very few of us. And the authorities fear magic. The Church says we are devil worshippers—’
    â€˜But that’s silly—’
    â€˜
We
know that, but the consequences of being discovered, Leo, could well be death.’
    There was silence for a moment and then Marco leaped up to close the shutters. ‘I think it will take many years before you’ll have the power to perform transformation. And I pray to God that by then you will have the wisdom to use it well.’
    Now that Leo had started looking, he found it hard to stop. He practised ‘seeing’ everywhere, not just on the wooden stool near the fireplace. To his delight, he found it easy. Without even trying he discovered new worlds nestled inside such familiar things. He saw trees that remembered the wind in their branches inside firewood and benches and shelves. He saw little boys curled up in men’s hearts; a disappointing dream in the eyes of his neighbour. Soon it came as naturally as his next breath. But sometimes it was almost too much. He saw double, triple of anything that other people saw—his mind became crowded, his eyes flooded with private truths. Secrets lay there before him like landscapes behind a fog, and he only had to breathe on them for the cloud to clear.
    When Leo was eight, he went with his father to visit a merchant who sold brooms. Marco was looking at a fine, thick straw broom, when Leo whispered into his ear. ‘There’s a hungry wolf in that man’s heart. When he smiles, I can see its teeth bared to bite.’ Marco, who had no money to spare, and didn’t want to get bitten, decided not to do business with the merchant, and later bought a good, cheap broom on his travels to the city.
    Marco was very pleased with Leo. ‘I knew it,’ he exclaimed, ‘you have great talent. Your vision is your strongest magic. I’ve only had a thimbleful. You have a river. Just like your great grandfather—’
    â€˜Who, not Manton?’ Leo shuddered.
    â€˜No,
his
father—Illuminato—he had the twin signs, too.’
    â€˜Did he look like me, what magic did he do?’
    But Marco waved his hand. ‘Let’s walk quickly. Tonight we’ll have supper early, because tomorrow I must leave for Florence at dawn.’ He rubbed his hands together at the thought of it.
    Leo never heard all the history of the great Illuminato, and it is a pity because if he’d known more about him, he might never have thrust himself into danger, unarmed and ignorant, in the years to come.
    Leo’s village was quite a distance from the great walled city of Florence. Most days except Sunday, Leo waved to his father as Marco set off for the two-hour walk