Magicians of Caprona - Diana Wynne Jones [23]
Benvenuto advanced to rub himself around the stranger’s legs.
“No,” said the man. “I beg you. Your hairs come off.”
And Benvenuto stopped, without abating an ounce of his uncommon politeness.
By this time, Tonino was extremely resentful. This was the first time for years that Benvenuto had behaved as if anyone mattered more than Tonino. He raised his eyes accusingly to the stranger’s. He met eyes even darker than his own, which seemed to spill brilliance over the rest of the man’s smooth dark face. They gave Tonino a jolt, worse than the time the horses turned back to cardboard. He knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that he was looking at a powerful enchanter.
“How do you do?” said the man. “No, despite your accusing glare, young man, I have never been able to understand cats—or not more than in the most general way. I wonder if you would be kind enough to translate for me what Benvenuto is saying.”
Tonino listened to Benvenuto. “He says he’s very pleased to see you again and welcome to the Casa Montana, sir.” The sir was from Benvenuto, not Tonino. Tonino was not sure he cared for strange enchanters who walked into the Casa and took up Benvenuto’s attention.
“Thank you, Benvenuto,” said the enchanter. “I’m very pleased to be back. Though, frankly, I’ve seldom had such a difficult journey. Did you know your borders with Florence and Pisa were closed?” he asked Tonino. “I had to come in by sea from Genoa in the end.”
“Did you?” Tonino said, wondering if the man thought it was his fault. “Where did you come from then?”
“Oh, England,” said the man.
Tonino warmed to that. This then could not be the enchanter the Duke had talked about. Or could he? Tonino was not sure how far away enchanters could work from.
“Makes you feel better?” asked the man.
“Mother’s English,” Tonino admitted, feeling he was giving altogether too much away.
“Ah!” said the enchanter. “Now I know who you are. You’re Antonio the Younger, aren’t you? You were a baby when I saw you last, Tonino.”
Since there is no reply to that kind of remark, Tonino was glad to see Old Niccolo hastening across the yard, followed by Aunt Francesca and Uncle Lorenzo, with Antonio and several more of the family hurrying behind them. They closed round the enchanter, leaving Tonino and Benvenuto beyond, by the gate.
“Yes, I’ve just come from the Casa Petrocchi,” Tonino heard the stranger say. To his surprise, everyone accepted it, as if it were the most natural thing for the stranger to have done—as natural as the way he took off his ridiculous English hat to Aunt Francesca.
“But you’ll stay the night with us,” said Aunt Francesca.
“If it’s not too much trouble,” the stranger said.
In the distance, as if they already knew—as they unquestionably did in a place like the Casa Montana—Aunt Maria and Aunt Anna went clambering up the gallery steps to prepare the guest-room above. Aunt Gina emerged from the kitchen, held her hands up to Heaven, and dashed indoors again. Thoughtfully, Tonino gathered up Benvenuto and asked exactly who this stranger was.
Chrestomanci, of course, he was told. The most powerful enchanter in the world.
“Is he the one who’s spoiling our spells?” Tonino asked suspiciously.
Chrestomanci, he was told—impatiently, be cause Benvenuto evidently thought Tonino was being very stupid—is always on our side.
Tonino looked at the stranger again—or rather, at his smooth dark head sticking out from among the shorter Montanas—and understood that Chrestomanci’s coming meant there was a crisis indeed.
The stranger must have said something about him. Tonino found them all looking at him, his family smiling lovingly. He smiled back shyly.
“Oh, he’s a good boy,” said Aunt Francesca.
Then they all surged, talking, across the yard. “What makes it particularly difficult,” Tonino heard Chrestomanci saying, “is that I am, first and foremost, an employee of the British Government. And Britain is keeping out of Italian affairs. But luckily I have a fairly wide brief.”
Almost at once, Aunt Gina shot out of the kitchen