The Mandala Girl (COMPLETED)

Chapter 13

A thick silence hangs in the air until I finally recruit the courage to break it. "You're Leonardo da Vinci? Like the dude who painted the Mona Lisa—you're that guy?"

He takes a bow. "In the flesh."

TJ leans in close to me. "I don't remember Leonardo da Vinci being a total stud." He's not wrong. The images I've seen of the supposed Leonardo da Vinci portray him to be a scraggly, old man with a beard and a love for berets. But this Leonardo da Vinci, aside from his outdated wardrobe, is mildly attractive: gray eyes, a full head of salt and pepper colored hair, and a jawline that looks as if it will draw blood at the slightest touch. He's older, which isn't a surprise, but there's also a youthful aura about him.

I switch my gaze between the three of them, feeling my brain overload with questions. "Lemme get this straight. We have a Leon, an Ardo, and a Leonardo? Yeah, that's not confusing at all." This is all officially too much for me to accept; I break out into a maniacal laugh. The three of them stare at me as if I'm the crazy one. "You can't be serious?"

Leon snorts. "You've brought paintings to life, traveled inside them, lost a year of your life. How much more proof do you need?"

Leonardo da Vinci steps forward. "Ignore him. He's just being a sourpuss. And please, call me Da Vinci, if nothing else then for the sake of mitigating confusion."

"Okay, Da Vinci. If it really is you, then how did you cheat death?"

He turns his head sideways. "Death? Death!" He then spins around to Leon. "What is she talking about?"

Leon drops his head in his hands, moaning. "We wanted to find the right moment to tell you, master."

"Tell me? Tell me what?"

"You, um, well—"

"Spit it out!"

"Died! You, uh—died."

Da Vinci pats himself with his hands. "I don't feel dead."

"No, not . . . you. The image of . . . you. There's a . . . fake you. And then . . . the real you." Leon stumbles over his words, then takes a deep breath. "When you journeyed inside this painting in the year 1519, you inadvertently disappeared from the real world. The people back home soon wondered where you had gone, so we had to create a cover story for your disappearance. After Ardo and I escaped the painting long ago, we then raised awareness of your death, informing the people you had passed away in your sleep at home. The news caught on and spread rapidly. That's when the two of us made a tribute as a token for people to remember you by for years to come. We knew we couldn't let this painting we're standing in out of our sight, so we forged a duplicate of Mona's portrait and left it inside your home for someone to find. It changed hands over the centuries, but the last time I checked, it was being showcased in a museum in Paris, France. Master, you're famous."

Da Vinci's eyes light up. "Famous? How famous? Like Michelangelo level of famous?"

Leon shakes his head. "Bigger!"

"Ha!" Da Vinci pumps a fist to the air. "I knew I'd one day get the win over that old boy." His face sobers from the sudden excitement. "I wouldn't have disappeared if you two imbeciles hadn't played that trick on me!"

"Yes, again, so sorry, master."

Tricked? Disappeared? Those words get me to thinking. I speak up, "Leon said you got trapped here, that you had been locked inside this painting for over five-hundred-years?"

"Five-hundred-years!" Da Vinci looks at me, perplexed, then turns back to Leon. "Has it really been that long?"

Leon nods. "Good thing time functions differently here in Xerox; otherwise, you would have been bored out of your mind. And dead. You would've been dead. For real this time."