Nineteen

They planned the break-in for the first night of Carnival. Ava had never celebrated this holiday back home in America, but Layla explained that the festive run-up to Lent was a huge deal in Venice and begrudgingly suggested it would be the safest night for mischief. Tourists poured into the city to dress up in masks and costumes and to stroll the streets or party along the Grand Canal. There were fancy balls and competitions for the best costume, outdoor bands, and parades.

Even the Accademia took part in Carnival, which Ms. Clio pointed out had pre-Christian origins in the celebration of winter’s end and the coming of spring. Mr. Orion held a masquerade ball for the entire school, and this year he planned to personally chaperone the event. Best of all, instead of in the Great Hall, the ball was being held on the top floor in Ms. Atalanta’s rooftop gym. She had allowed Ms. Terpsichore, the muse of dance, to turn it into a glass-enclosed, panoramic disco. This meant the party would take place as far away as possible from Mr. Orion’s office.

On the morning of the ball, they picked out Carnival masks at the school store. They purposely stuck to the most popular choices: Fia chose the black-and-white mask of Harlequin, the crafty mime; Arnold chose a long, curved beak, which made him look like a bird although Layla said it was the mask worn by medieval plague doctors; Layla herself wore a Volto or ghost mask, which was white with red painted lips; Ava already had the cat mask she’d bought with her mom. Later that evening, the girls paired their masks with colorful, floor-length ball gowns they had rented at the store: Fia’s green, Layla’s gold, and Ava’s blue.

“I wish I could change the color of my hair like you,” Fia said to Layla as she inspected herself in the mirror.

“You can,” Layla said. “It’s called hair dye.”

Layla was grumpy, but at least she seemed to realize that she couldn’t talk them out of their plan. Fia, on the other hand, was so excited that tiny sparks kept shooting out from behind her mask. She carefully positioned a black veil over her orange hair.

“It’s like being friends with a sparkler,” Layla grumbled.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. “What?” Layla shouted. The door opened and Arnold’s enormous beak poked through the opening. He had added a broad-brimmed black hat and a cape, which he attempted to sweep around himself dramatically but instead tripped over. Ava hoped she’d made the right decision by choosing him as her accomplice.

“You okay?” she asked as he caught himself.

Arnold slid his beak to one side. “Yeah,” he said. “Just a little nervous.”

“If you’re too nervous, I could go,” Fia said.

“No!” Ava and Layla said at the same time.

A half hour later, exactly as they had planned, they entered the rooftop disco. Ava had to admit that Ms. Terpsichore had done a magnificent job. Sparkling disco balls zoomed overhead; lively music—probably in a multitude of languages but sounding English to Ava—blared from invisible speakers; tables heaped with plates of lasagna and raviolis, sugar-dusted doughnuts and ricotta-filled cannoli, were constantly replenished as if by invisible hands. A hot chocolate fountain burbled merrily in the center of the dance floor; jets of milk and chocolate obediently arcing into students’ uplifted mugs. Harlequins, jesters, plague doctors, and other carnival figures stood in little groups, eating or talking; a small contingent of cats danced together, their ball gowns swishing to the beat. The only person Ava recognized was Mr. Orion, who stood on a riser surveying the party. Even though he wore a creepy, black mouthless mask and a ruffled seventeenth-century suit, his hulking form was unmistakable.

Since they had previously agreed that it was best to fan out so Mr. Orion wouldn’t see them as a group, Ava immediately left the others and helped herself to some lasagna. As she nervously picked at it, she started to recognize some of the other students. The devil with three legs was obviously Arata, who’d grown an extra limb to show off on the dance floor. The tall Harlequin had to be Lindiwe; the jester leading a pack of cats in the Macarena had to be Mathias. And she easily recognized Jax, who was dressed in a mask similar to Arnold’s, as he toasted the gods over hot chocolate with his friends.

“Enjoying yourself, Gorgon girl?” A cold, white face stared at her, then turned slightly, revealing a second face. Then the two-faced mask hissed in her ear, “You’re the biggest monster here.”

“At least I don’t act like one,” Ava said.

Both faces seemed to be glaring at her. “What did you say!?”

Ava stared down at her plate. It was the wrong night to antagonize Zale. It was bad enough that he was able to recognize her behind her mask.

“Nothing,” she said.

The two-faced mask loomed over her. “That’s what I thought.”

By 10:00 p.m., the dance floor was packed. Even Zale was out there, stomping around next to Anahita, whose constant whirling made her easy to identify behind her Harlequin mask. Ava made sure both his faces were looking the other way before she slipped out of the ball and raced down the stairs to Mr. Orion’s office. Arnold was supposed to meet her there, but the hallway was empty. Ava stood in the shadows, waiting. Where was he?

At last, she heard feet tiptoeing down the stairwell.

“Ava, are you there?” a voice quivered.

She could smell him in the darkness. He had to be sweating buckets. Someone really had to buy him some deodorant.

“Where were you?” Ava asked.

“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t explain.

Ava pulled a set of lockpicks Fia had borrowed from Mr. Heff’s workshop out of her pocket, then crouched beside the door. Arnold pulled up his bird mask and watched her with his big, blinking eyes.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

Ava had similar doubts—how many strikes was breaking into Mr. Orion’s office worth?—but she pushed them aside. She needed to understand what had happened to her mom at the Accademia.

“We’ll be fine. Now I just have to . . .”

She placed her ear next to the lock, listening for the snap of the mechanism.

“Layla thinks it’s a mistake,” he whispered.

“Forget Layla. Don’t you want to find out who you are?”

He nodded, then glanced back at the staircase. “Zale once told me Mr. Orion kept monsters in his office. Maybe they protect it from intruders—”

“You don’t need to be afraid of monsters, Arnold. We are monsters.”

“There!” Ava turned the doorknob and gently pushed the door open. “Come on.”

Arnold’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Ava. I can’t.” His face scrunched like he was going to cry. “I know I’m acting like a chicken. I’m even dressed like one.”

“Arnold! You’re not—”

But he had already turned and was loping back down the hall. She heard him trip in the stairwell, probably over his cape again, and keep going.

It was just as well, Ava thought with a sigh. Arnold was so nervous he’d probably be more of a liability than a help. And at least the air quality had improved. She would reassure him that it wasn’t a big deal later. She could check out his file without him.

But as she stepped into Mr. Orion’s darkened office, she couldn’t help wishing she wasn’t all alone.