Page 12 of No Escape

He laughed. “No. Just an educated guess. I figure you also researched local spiders and various insects, too. Come on, tell me I’m wrong.”

He wasn’t. He knew me better than I cared to admit. Even though I’d spent significant time in a jungle and a rain forest, I hadn’t bonded with any of the reptiles or insects.

The boat had started to move at a decent clip now, and the wind whipped my hair into my eyes. Slash stayed as solid as a rock behind me.

“The island is small, just over seven kilometers, or four and a half miles, from point to point,” he said. “It contains beautiful, ancient trees, foliage, and flowers, not to mention dangerous cliffs and drop-offs, from which, given your tendency toward tripping, I intend to keep you far away. As you’ve likely already uncovered in your research, there are two kinds of venomous snakes present on the island,Vipera aspisandVipera berus. The statistical probability that you will come across one of them on the island is less than .000003 percent. But even if you did and were bit by one, their hemotoxic venom is much less dangerous than, say, the neurotoxic venom of a cobra. So you can stop worrying about that.”

“Ha. Just because I know the stats doesn’t make me feel any better.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, the castle is the only significant building on the island and is powered by generators. In addition to the purportedly elaborate escape rooms, the castle supposedly has a ballroom, pool, library, game room, and a beautiful garden, as well as several guest rooms, bathrooms, and staff quarters, all of which have been renovated and made available to Zachetti’s personal guests.”

“Have you ever seen a photo of Dante Zachetti?” I asked. “I searched online but couldn’t find a single photo of him or his father anywhere.”

“No. As I mentioned before, the family is extremely reclusive,” Slash replied. “In fact, I’m still surprised he agreed to host us.”

“It had to be something Father Armando said,” I mused. “I can’t think of why else he’d agree, and why he’d refuse payment.”

“It is odd,” Slash mused. “I don’t think Father Armando knows Zachetti, and I don’t believe Zachetti is a practicing Catholic. If he is, he keeps it very low profile. Anyway, I don’t see why he’d feel he’d have to agree to inviting us. But you never know. Perhaps we’ll find out when we get there.”

“Perhaps. Regardless, we must thank him, since Gio is beyond excited at the prospect, and he thinks you’re responsible for it.”

Slash didn’t offer further comment. I couldn’t see the dock anymore, so I tried to keep a fixed-point stare on the horizon, which is supposed to help with nausea. But other than the faint glow of the moon and the lights from the boat, it had become almost entirely dark on the water. I couldn’t see anything to focus on. “Maybe there’s a catch, Slash. Zachetti sponsoring the entire wedding party seems less like altruism and more like there’s something in it for him. What if there are some weird conditions we don’t know about?”

Slash’s arms tightened around me. “If we’re uncomfortable in any way, we leave. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

The wind whipped my hair in a frenzy around my face, and the spray of the water misted us, so several strands plastered to my cheeks. I was certain to arrive looking like something the cat dragged in.

“There’s the castle,” Slash said pointing.

In the distance, atop a large rise, I could see lights shining.

“That’s Castrum Augustus,” he said.

As the boat moved closer, I got a better look. The structure loomed above the jagged cliffs, lights dotting the windows. Below the castle the red and green twinkling of buoys in the water signaled the safe path to the shore, or at least I hoped it did. The boathouse and dock came into view as we rounded a small outcropping. The boathouse and dock were lighted by several overhead lights positioned so they wouldn’t interfere with the pilot’s night vision. It was too dark to see much else beyond the pools of light at the dock and the dim pearls of luminescence that likely marked the path up from the boathouse.

We sensed rather than saw the breakwater and low cliffs on either side of the boat as we headed for a small dock. Behind us, we could hear the crashing of the waves on the looming cliffs, where huge sprays of water smashed violently against the rocks. There was a lone figure waiting at the dock, and as we got closer, he grabbed a tethering rope that was tossed to him by the captain. As we were maneuvered closer to the dock, my parents came up from below. Once the boat was secured, the captain illuminated the deck with overhead boat lights and prepared to transfer our luggage ashore.

“Good heavens, Lexi,” my mom said when she saw me in the harsh white boat light. “What happened to you? Was it raining out here?”

I tried without success to smooth down my hair. “No, Mom. The sea was a little rough and we got sprayed. I’m fine.” Since I’d gone the entire ride without hurling over the side even once, I considered the trip a full success, despite the current state of my hair and clothing.

Slash helped the captain and the man waiting at the dock unload our luggage. After our suitcases stood side by side on the dock, the captain informed us he’d be returning to the mainland and would come back for us in three days. Slash spoke with him for a minute, then unfastened and tossed him the tether as the boat pulled away, turning off its overhead lights.

As we watched the boat disappear, Slash turned to me. “So, what did you say to the captain earlier?”

“Nothing much. I practiced my Italian on him. I greeted him and said it was a beautiful evening.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, I think he asked me what brought me to Italy, and I told him I’d come for a wedding.”

“How exactly did you say that?”

I thought back for a moment. “Sono allupata.”

Slash choked and then started laughing. “No wonder.”

“No wonder what? What’s so funny? Did I say it wrong?”

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