The True Adventures of Nicolo Zen Read Online Free Page A

Bishop’s residence with our brethren.”
    I began to panic. My mouth went dry. And it took all my energy to appear calm. Christmas was nine months off, but if the Master should mention to Father Michele that a girl named Nicolà Vitale, who sang in his choir, had recently joined the orchestra at the Ospedale, and Father Michele replied, as he must, that he had never heard of such a girl, the game would be up. At best, I would appear to be a conniving and deceitful girl; at worst,I would be exposed as a brash impostor. Either way, it would result in my expulsion from the Ospedale.
    “After choir practice at my church,” I continued, “I attempted to play the hymns we sang on my clarinet. When troubadours visited Mazzorbo, I played along with them from a distance—where they couldn’t hear me. I also went into the woods each day and echoed the birdsongs, note for note.”
    “Birdsongs?”
    “Yes, the sparrows and starlings and the wild canaries, with their high pitch.”
    The Master smiled. “And in what key do the sparrows sing, Nicolà?”
    “G major, usually.”
    He tucked his thumbs into his vest pockets and studied me more closely. “So you’re another Orpheus, eh? Do you know who Orpheus was?”
    I shook my head.
    “No? Well, tell me about your family. Luca said they died in the epidemic. I am sorry to hear it. You had brothers and sisters?”
    “Three sisters. And a brother, Alessandro,” I added hastily, thinking I had better make sure to establish that there was a boy in the Zen family of Mazzorbo, in case inquiries were made. Except that the inquiries—and who exactly did I imagine would be making them?—would be about the
Vitale
family, Nicolà’s family, which did not exist; the only Zen on Mazzorbo with a name like Nicolà was one Nicolò Zen, who had disappeared. It was all very confusing. After having convinced myself there was only one lie I could be caught out in, I quickly discovered that one lie leads toanother, and another, and another, until finally it’s not just the truth, but your own lies that you can’t keep straight.
    “You must miss your family,” the Master said.
    “I do,” I replied, trying not to fidget with my dress, but relieved that at last I was speaking honestly.
    “You have a home here now. You will live in good clean quarters, be provided with clothing and necessities, eat hot meals, and otherwise be protected from the hardships and dangers of the world. You will play the clarinet in our orchestra. We have two flautists, and until I begin inserting parts for the clarinet, you will also play the flute parts in the scores. Genevieve is currently first flautist, and I can tell you honestly that your musicianship is as good as hers, if not better. Like the other girls, you will practice every day for five hours after receiving lessons from the nuns in mathematics, Latin, history, and catechism. And you will obey the rules. Two hundred girls live in the Ospedale. But there are only forty of you in the elite orchestra and choir, and you must set an example. Do you understand?”
    “Yes, Master.”
    “Luca will take you up to the dormitory, where you will be in the charge of Signora Marta.”
    “Thank you a million times over.”
    He put up his hand, then gestured toward the door.
    I tried not to walk too quickly in my dress, which was difficult, excited as I was, and more than that, eager to escape the Master’s presence.
    “Nicolà,” he called out, and I froze.
    “Don’t you want to know who Orpheus was?” He was already bent over his sheet music again, quill in hand.
    I swallowed hard. “Yes, I do.”
    “He was the greatest musician that ever lived. He played a pipe made of reeds, like those that grow in the Lagoon. He liked to play as he walked, and his music was so beautiful it enchanted wild animals, and even the rocks in the fields, and animals and rocks alike followed him wherever he went. Can you imagine what that music must have sounded like?”
    I