Читать книгу The Scepter of Fire - Морган Райс, Morgan Rice - Страница 10

Oliver tumbled out of the portal. Hazel slammed into the back of him. A moment later, Ralph arrived, too, barreling into the others.

“Ow!” they all groaned as they smooshed into one another.

“Is everyone okay?” Oliver asked, concerned for his friends’ well-being.

Hazel nodded, rubbing her elbow that had collided with Ralph. “Yes. But where are we?”

She glanced around her. Ralph, meanwhile, was rubbing his stomach—the corresponding point where Hazel’s elbow had hit.

“Hey!” he said, his eyes widened. “We’ve been here before!”

Confused, Oliver frowned and glanced around him at the buildings. They were all three or four stories tall, crammed shoulder to shoulder, with flat facades and matching burnt umber–colored roofs. The dome roof of a cathedral loomed out behind them, overshadowing everything as a dominating presence. Ralph was right. There was something familiar about the place.

Then Oliver gasped as it dawned on him. “We’re back in Florence.”

Hazel’s eyes widened. “Florence? That must be a mistake. Do you think Professor Amethyst accidentally sent us back through Leonardo da Vinci’s portal?”

Oliver shook his head. “I don’t think so. Da Vinci’s portals were red. Professor Amethyst’s are purple.”

“Well then maybe we’re here because Leonardo will help us again?” Ralph suggested. “Maybe he knows where the Scepter of Fire is? Or he can pause time for us again so we can find it?”

But as Oliver looked around, something dawned on him. “No. There are way more buildings than there were when we came to see Leonardo. It may be the same place, but it’s a different era. We’re not here for Leonardo’s help. We’re here to find someone else.”

For some reason, it felt even stranger to be somewhere they’d been before. They’d walked these streets on their mission with Leonardo da Vinci a matter of hours earlier. But now, they were on the very same streets, years, if not decades, later. There was something truly mind-boggling about that.

“It can’t be much later, though,” Hazel said, tapping her chin. “More buildings but they’re all the same architectural style. I don’t think we’ve landed much further than a hundred years after the point we were last here. What other extraordinary Italians might Professor Amethyst have sent us here to find?”

“Well, beyond da Vinci and Michelangelo,” Oliver began, “there is of course—”

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because at that moment, someone came running round the corner and slammed right into Oliver.

“I’m so sorry!” the young man cried.

Oliver straightened up and smoothed down his rumpled clothes. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Hazel gasped. “Oliver, you’re speaking Italian!”

“I am?” Oliver said.

Before he could get a definitive answer, the young man who’d slammed into him continued speaking.

“I’m late for my class at the Accademia delle Arti del Disegno,” he said. “It’s Professore Galilei’s class.” Then he hurried off.

Oliver turned to his friends. “Was that man speaking Italian?”

They both nodded.

“Yes!” Ralph cried. “And so were you!”

Oliver shook his head. “But I don’t understand. How?”

Then he remembered. Lucia Moretti, the teacher they’d met on their last adventure, had put some of her powers into Oliver’s mind. Perhaps one of the things she’d given him was the Italian language?

“Wait,” Oliver said suddenly. “He said he was going to a lecture by Galileo.”

Hazel’s eyes pinged open. “Of course. Galileo’s a Florentine who came after da Vinci. We must be in sixteenth-century Italy.”

“We should follow him,” Ralph said.

Oliver nodded in agreement, and they all took off after the running man.