Rebel Genius by Michael Dante Dimartino

Author:Michael Dante Dimartino [Michael Dante Dimartino]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626723368
Publisher: Roaring Brook Press
Published: 2016-10-04T04:00:00+00:00

The picture changed again. The thick black outline of a cube appeared, the hexagon-star’s faded image still visible behind it. Several more images followed, showing the different shapes that could be drawn from the blueprint of the original symbol.

Then a familiar shape appeared—the mandorla. As Giacomo stared at its lines, they began to waver and vibrate. Then his head pounded. His vision blurred. The temperature inside the box plunged to freezing and Giacomo shivered uncontrollably. Streams of color shot out of the mandorla’s eye, slamming into him like a tempest. Deafening low booms rattled his bones and shook skin from muscle.

Giacomo kicked the door over and over, trying to break his way out, but it refused to yield. Yellows, reds, and blues swirled around him, obscuring the walls of the box. The force of the winds picked him up and spun him.

He was back in the Wellspring.

Mico whipped past, caught in the storm’s grip. Giacomo reached out, but each time his fingers nearly wrapped around Mico, the wind whirled them again, and they drifted farther apart.

Another wave of color crashed over him, and Giacomo lost sight of Mico altogether. The cold developed into searing heat. Fearing he’d be lost in the Wellspring forever, Giacomo frantically tried to figure out a way to escape. But fighting the storm only made it worse. The deafening bangs transformed into a loud, droning buzz. Giacomo could barely think. His senses overwhelmed, he tried to focus on a peaceful image. Something that could ground him amid the madness.

He pictured his hideout in Virenzia’s sewers, then his comfortable room in Baldassare’s villa, and finally Pietro’s studio. None of the places offered any relief. Then the image of the Cave of Alessio popped into his mind. He could hear the gentle rush of the river, touch the rough bark of the ancient tree, and feel the cool mist from the waterfall.

Gradually, the wind died down and the temperature evened out. The loud drone transformed into the sound of rushing water. When Giacomo opened his eyes, his feet were on the ground, and he was pushed up against the gnarled tree. He was panting and sweaty, but otherwise all right. Mico lay across a branch, feathers askew, chirping woozily.

It had worked! He’d tamed the Wellspring, at least for the moment. The storm dwindled into a fog of color, like a painter’s smeared palette.

Once the immediate danger passed, the shock of what just happened sunk in—somehow the duke’s bizarre box hadn’t only opened the Wellspring; it had physically transported Giacomo somewhere else. But he wasn’t yet sure if the Cave of Alessio was real, or another Wellspring-induced vision.

He took a step, but jumped back when he noticed the baby creature had come through with him. It crawled around, touching whatever was in its path, uttering weird wheezing sounds. Its behavior reminded him of a curious child, eager to explore its new surroundings. When it came upon a pile of rocks, the creature stuffed one into its mouth and ate it, crunching it between its sharp teeth.

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