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e had reported finding on Grandier's body during torture, died later in "terrible delirium," as the monk described it. The account ended there, before the plague and the other horrific disasters now attributed to the outlaw sorcerer.
If he wasn't working dark magic before the trial, Thomas thought, he is now.
* * *
The afternoon at the Mummer's Mask passed slowly as the tavernkeepers recovered from the night before and the acting troupe prepared for the night to come. Baraselli and his assistants sat at a big round table on the tavern's main floor arguing over which characters they would use tonight, while the actors lounged nearby feigning disinterest. Shafts of sunlight from the cracked windows glittered off the dust in the air and the various paraphernalia of the stage that had been hauled out for inspection.
Silvetta, the actress who played one of the heroines, said, "What did you say your name was?"
There was a moment of hesitation before the woman who had been hired for the Columbine mask answered, "It's Kade." She was sitting on top of one of the wine-stained tables, her legs folded beneath her skirt in a position that most women of better breeding would have found difficult if not impossible. The playing cards she shuffled were a tattered pack belonging to the tavern.
"Really? Don't tell Baraselli." Silvetta shuddered, rolling her eyes in a gesture better suited for the stage. "Bad luck, ill omens, that's all he talks about. But they don't give children that name here anymore, do they? Except in the country. Are you from the country?"
"Yes."
"When did you learn Commedia?"
"I traveled around with one for a while and learned the Columbine mask. That was after I got out of the convent," Kade told her.
Silvetta leaned forward. "Why were you in a convent?"
"My wicked stepmother sent me there."
"Oh, you're telling me a tale." Personal questions out of the way, she said, "Do my fortune again."
Kade's brow