Petra, the Great - (Book One)

"Hang him, swaggering rascal!"

Chapter One

"Hang him, swaggering rascal!"

-Henry IV (Act II, Scene IV)

WHAT IS A RAINBOW, BUT a deception of the mind; here but not really here, there but not really there. I am an honest liar, just as a rainbow is an honest lie. It must deceive in order to exist, as I must deceive in order to survive.

As I walk about the market towards the piazza, I too am here but not really here. Disguised by crowds of market goers, I too am there but not really there. With a quick hand I steal the bag of earnings from the fruit man. He does not notice my sleight of hand, too distracted by my smile and the coin I pay into his outstretched palm. He thinks me an honest maiden, paying him for an apple as red as the blood of a freshly slaughtered lamb. Before the fruit vendor could think anything is amiss, I dissolve into the crowds - gone, just like a rainbow when the rains stop falling.

I bite into my stolen apple and let the waves of eager town's people push me further still, until I stand before the condemned. I recognize the poor fool in front of me as Vanecio, the latest of the Mad Queen's fortune tellers. He is an ugly man and although my Grams has often told me to never trust a beautiful face, I do not think I could trust an ugly one such as Vanecio's either. He quivers as if he is in the midst of winter and not standing beneath the blistering sun and illusionary rainbow. The executioner ties the rope around Vanecio's neck and I cringe as the smell of excrement ripens the air around me.

One would think Vanecio il Magnifico would have seen this coming.

I take another bite of my apple. I do not have to be a magician to stay a few steps ahead of the Mad Queen and her guards, but if I am to ever get caught and executed, I wish it would be on a day in which the weather is miserable, so those who come to see me dance the devil's jig would not enjoy it.

The sky will have to be gray with the tears of all those caught before me. The clouds will pour down the sadness of every fraud, thief and criminal, for I - Petra of the Shazastar- was to die and never thieve another day.

"Execute the fraud!" come the calls from those around me and for a moment I believe they are shouting at me.

                "Farlo ballare! Make him dance!"

My heart steadies and I laugh. Only in the kingdom of Florentia are people thirsty for the blood of non-witches.

"No! No! I am not a fraud! Idioti! I do have magic!" Vanecio cries.

What a predicament to be in. Kingdoms far and wide condemn magic, yet how eager they are to be entertained by it. Then again, what is the use of magic if not to aid in situations such as these? I shrug and turn away from Vanecio's losing battle.

"Then disappear!"

"I cannot just disappear!" Vanecio exclaims, his voice dripping with despair.

"And neither can you tell fortunes."

The cool comment comes from up high in the palazzo balcony where the Mad Queen Meridian de Luca sits with her nephew, Giovanni de Luca.

Swarthy with sharp features, he is the sort of man my Grams has warned me to stay away from. Not only because de Luca is the captain of the guard, but according to my Grams trusting a beautiful face is like believing in a mirage.

Giovanni shrugs. "I will give you one more chance to prove yourself. Tell us what is to happen next."

I turn around to face Vanecio. The shamed fortune teller's face blanches, yet he has enough hope to sheepishly ask, "You will set me free, Signore?"

Silence flows throughout the piazza, stilling the air with gleeful anticipation. Will Giovanni de Luca, the orneriest man on the face of the land- will he let poor Vanecio go?

It does not take a fortune teller to know that answer. I turn and walk away from the execution stand. The collective gasp from those around me is more than enough to let me know that Vanecio met his fate.

And as I run straight into the meaty potbelly of Fat Pete, I know that I have met mine.

It is far too crowded for me to run away before the simpleton recognizes me. I keep my head low as I back away from Fat Pete, but fortune is not on my or Vanecio's side this day, for he grabs my hood and pulls me up to his face.

"'Ello, poppet." His pudgy face is even more disgusting up close and his breath - I would rather turn myself in to De Luca and dance alongside Vanecio a thousand times. "Fancy seeing you here."

I try to wiggle out of my cloak, but the fat man has an unrelenting grip on me, as if I am his midafternoon meal.

"A girl cannot enjoy a good execution, Fat Pete? I was coming by your shop by the way."

The agreement I have with Fat Pete is that he pawns my stolen goods and I pay him for keeping his mouth shut. The only problem is that I have fallen back on my payments and Fat Pete is as greedy as he is hungry.

He shakes his ginormous head and smiles a horrid rotting yellow grin.

"No, love. See this?"

He unfurls a parchment and nods at the drawing and the number figure below it.

It is a picture of me: dark hair, dark eyes, and an overconfident flair.

Wanted. Alive. Award 500 Florentines.

"Only five-hundred? Rather skimpy on behalf of the guard, no?" I scan down to the bottom of the parchment and what I read makes me go cold.

Wanted for trans-Kingdom espionage.

Espionage? As in spy?

The Florentian guards believe I am a spy? I slowly look up from the paper to Fat Pete's face. I do not believe that anything could be worse than looking at that horrid man but at that moment - I would have kissed him for my freedom.

He smiles even wider and says, "Looks like we're getting two executions this fine morning. And me a few gold florentines."

No.

I cannot be caught. I am illusive like the rainbow. I look up at the sky. Grey and somber, a sky filled with heavy clouds. Frantically I search for the sun, but it is as if it was never there.

Fat Pete throws me to the ground and I know that it is all over for me; for if the Florentians hang people for being fortune telling frauds, I do not want to think of what they do to spies.

A/N:

What do you think so far? I would love to know! :D