“The reason we raided Claude’s Paris showroom. And his factory floor. And everything in between, including tracking down samples of his new line that he gave to friends.”
I looked at the cloak some more. I didn’t get it. “Why? There’s plenty of spells that can do that, or something like it. If you’re talking about espionage—”
“That was the original idea, yes. Anthony feared that certain members of his senate were conspiring against him, and wanted to find out if it was true. But the usual surveillance spells can be counteracted, which people planning to overthrow their consul would certainly take care to do. He needed something new.”
“This?” It still looked like a wearable TV to me.
But Mircea nodded. “Claude is Anthony’s couturier, and he is known for using old—in some cases very old—spells as inspiration for his collections. In this case, he came across one not seen in five centuries: Nodo D’Amore.”
“Lover’s Knot,” I translated.
Another nod. “It was used during the Renaissance, in the wars that took place between vampire factions following the consul’s accession. Some masters did not like the new laws and tighter oversight that she was putting in place, and wanted to overthrow her, or at least to carve out independent fiefdoms for themselves. She . . . demurred.”
I bet. The consul didn’t share power. Some things never changed.
“Claude came across an old spell book from that time,” Mircea continued. “One we missed when Lover’s Knot was outlawed, and fell in love with its complexity—”
“Outlawed? But why was it—”
“I’m getting there,” he promised. “Claude broke the spell into its component parts, using one strand in his fashion. It caused an item of clothing—the receiver—to reflect an image of whatever another item—the sender—had in front of it. Claude was even planning to add sound, giving Anthony eyes and ears that looked like nothing more than a handkerchief or a forgotten jacket. Anthony intended to leave pieces of the spelled clothing at the homes of the suspected conspirators, in an attempt to discover their plans.”
“But wouldn’t the counterspells stop that?”
He shook his head. “The spell in question was so old, and so long forgotten, that the newer counterspells had no defense against it. Anthony thought he had found his perfect spy device.” Mircea smiled slightly. “But someone else had found it, too.”
It took me a moment; it really had been a long day. “Jonathan.”
“Yes. As usual with him, he had seen something in Claude’s work that the man himself had not. You see, the original use for Nodo D’Amore was in battle.”
“In battle?” I didn’t see how that worked.
But Mircea nodded. “When I was a newly
turned vampire living in Venice, I encountered a group of kidnapped witches. They were being transported through the port, but their real destination was the war raging in what is now Romania. They were to be used by the consul’s enemies to give magical abilities to vampires in the field—”
“What?” My confusion was growing. “But vampires can’t perform human magic. Once a magic worker is Changed, he loses the ability.”
That was why masters employed mages instead of simply Changing them and adding them to the family that way. They’d have preferred the latter, since a Child would be much more reliable and much longer-lived than a human, whom vampires always viewed with suspicion. Free will meant possible spies or turncoats, but a vampire, especially a newly Changed one, would do whatever he or she was asked without question.
They wouldn’t have a choice.
But Mircea didn’t seem to agree. “Not entirely.”
“What do you mean, not entirely? Because I’ve never heard—”
“It’s not common knowledge,” he agreed. “The first instance I know of was in fifteenth-century Genoa. There was a master in the city in those days, very old and very powerful. And very paranoid.”
“Aren’t they all.”
He smiled slightly. “With reason in his case. He called himself Roberto, but the rumor was that his real name was Riacus, and that he had originally been brought to Rome as a slave after the empire conquered Gaul. In any case, he practically ran Genoa, which was one of the premier seaports in Italy at the time. He was hugely rich—”
“And rich men have enemies.”
“As you say. There were two factions fighting for control of the city, and Roberto’s was winning. His opponents knew that the only way to change that was to assassinate him, but they couldn’t get anywhere near him. His family was huge and his human servants were utterly loyal, not that he had many of them. He had so many masters that he did not need anyone to help guard his sanctum during the day. It seemed impregnable.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t.”
“Nothing is truly impregnable, as we discovered today,” Mircea said dryly. “But attempt after attempt merely resulted in the would-be assassins meeting a gruesome end. Until a group of Roberto’s enemies sent in a baby vampire with terms for a truce.”