Free The True Adventures of Nicolo Zen by Nicholas Christopher Page A

“And you’ll pay for this.”
    Aldo immediately understood what had happened. “It’s you!” he cried, lunging at me with outstretched arms.
    I jumped from the chair, avoiding his grasp. “Don’t touch me, you pig. Did you really think I would bring Adriana here?”
    Aldo was livid, but didn’t lose sight of his objective, which was to corner me. Just as with every other room in the Ospedale, he had the wine cellar mapped out in his head to the last detail. It was unnerving to watch him move about as if he could see. Nomatter how much I backpedaled, ducked, or skipped this way and that, he kept closing in on me.
    “Adriana’s not here,” he said, “but you are. And I’m going to give you a beating you’ll never forget.”
    “I’ll tell Luca what you’ve been doing down here.”
    “Luca!” he laughed. “That’s a good one. Don’t forget to tell him who you really are.”
    That laugh took the heart out of me. I realized that, even if I managed to get out of that cellar in one piece, the repercussions of my having come there would be dire. I had hoped that, by threatening Aldo with exposure, I could preserve my secret and remain at the Ospedale. What was I thinking? Even with my limited knowledge of the world, I ought to have realized that only a fool would attempt to blackmail a blackmailer.
    Aldo had finally pushed me up against the wall, and dropping his shoulder, charged forward and knocked the wind out of me. Then he came at me with his fists. Having been around rough men, my father had taught me the rudiments of defending myself:
Keep your hands up and wait for an opening
. Aldo swung wildly at first, and I was able to avoid the blows, but then he caught me on the ear and hit me in the mouth, cutting my lip. He reared back to punch me again, but tried packing so much into it that he tottered, slightly off balance, and I saw my opening: I landed a punch squarely on his jaw, so hard that I thought I had broken my knuckles. I followed this with a kick to his shin, and another to his groin that doubled him over, but didn’t stop him. Cursing loudly, he started swinging again for my head. It was terrifying to fight someone who was blind, yet could move so swiftly and strikeblows so precisely. Every time I attempted to circle around to the door, he cut me off. If he was able to pounce on me again, I knew he wouldn’t let go until he had really hurt me. So, lowering my head, I took him by surprise, bolting right past him and pushing one of the chairs into his path. When he stumbled over it, I picked up the other chair and swung it as hard as I could, catching him on the shoulder and the head.
    Staggered, but staying on his feet, he shouted, “You little bastard,” and lunged at me.
    I ran to the door and threw it open and plunged into the hallway, right into the hands of someone who lifted me off the ground.
    “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled, shaking me so hard I thought he would crack my spine.
    It was Luca.
    All I managed to say was “I can’t explain, but thank god you’re here, signor.”
    Luca ignored me and glared at Aldo. “What goes on?” he demanded.
    “He’s an impostor,” Aldo shouted.
    “He?”
    “Look at him.”
    It took Luca a moment to understand. He tore my dress open completely. “Who the devil are you?”
    “Let me go,” I said, trying to break free.
    “Look what you did to me,” Aldo shouted, feeling blood trickling from a gash in his temple. “I’ll kill you.”
    “You’ll shut your mouth,” Luca snapped. “Who else knows about this?”
    Aldo hesitated. “Nobody.”
    Luca squeezed my arm and shook me again. “Does anyone know you’re down here?”
    I shook my head.
    “Speak!”
    “No.”
    “What is your real name?”
    “Nicolò.”
    “Very clever. Well, Nicolò, you’re going right back where I found you.”
    “I want to see the Master,” I said.
    “You’ve got nerve,” Luca said, shoving me back into the wine cellar and slamming