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FLORIANA STARED AT the night sky through the window of the private jet flying them back to Malta. They were surrounded by darkness, as they were flying above the Atlantic Ocean, far from any civilization. Weary as she was, she had spent the first couple hours of the flight sleeping. When she awakened, she saw Eric sitting in the seat beside her, looking at her in a loving and gentle manner.
“Welcome back,” he told her and caressed her hand with his finger. “How are you?” he asked solicitously.
“I have been better,” she replied softly but bitterly.
“Vittor reported me everything that happened in Millville. You have been very brave.” Eric smiled.
“Oh, well, I had to take care of myself since you were not there to save me,” Floriana teased as she stretched her arms. “Did Vittor tell you everything that happened with our mom?” Her eyes fell into shadow.
“He did. I am sorry you had to go through this.” Eric clasped her hand in his.
“That person, she was not really my mom. I mean, physically she was my mom, although her appearance had slightly changed. She was older, with small wrinkles on her face, and her once chestnut hair was silver white. However, she was not the person she used to be. My mom, as I remember her from my childhood, was not in that woman’s body. Since we left D.C., I have been trying to bring back into memory any event from my childhood that could have indicated she was mentally ill. Unfortunately, I cannot remember any. Maybe it was because I was a happy child dreaming of pink clouds and unicorns.” She sighed.
“Or maybe it was because your mother became aware of her illness and she tried to fight it. Maybe when she realized that she had lost the battle against her madness, she decided to fake her death and disappear from your life. Maybe that was her gift to you. The chance to live a life without the consequences of having a mentally unstable parent,” Eric reasoned.
Floriana turned her gaze to the dark sky once more. “Too many maybes ... And maybe I have to pick up the option that is the most comfortable to live with for the rest of my life.”
Eric tightened his grasp. “You are not alone in this. You have Vittor. And you have Ganni. And you have me.”
“Do I have you?” Floriana wondered.
“You know you will always have me.” He grinned and clutched her hand tightly.
Floriana peered at him. “I cannot stop thinking of Norchelle and the pain she felt for Duclan’s loss. When she found out he was dead, she did not know yet whether he was innocent or guilty of helping with the Empire’s atrocities. However, the doubt did not lessen the pain of his loss. Was that what you felt when Maite died?” asked Floriana.
Eric frowned at the memory of his ex-girlfriend, whose loss and deceit he had fought hard to overcome.
“In a way, it was. We had a passionate relationship, although deep inside I knew I should not trust her. On the contrary, I think that what Duclan and Norchelle shared was a real love,” he finally said.
“Have you ever felt this kind of love?” Floriana bit her lip.
“Not yet. But I hope I will,” he said, gazing at her, tightening his grip, and making her heart flutter. “But enough about me.” He changed subject abruptly. “The Master is waiting for us to join him. We should not leave him waiting any longer,” he said and gallantly helped her up.
The Master and Vittor were waiting for them at a small table across the flight cabin with mugs of steaming tea in front of them. Vittor’s hollow eyes showed that he had not slept during the flight, while the Master’s serious look indicated he’d had a hard time as well.
“It was a hard day for all of us,” the Master said when Floriana and Eric took their seats around the table. “Not only did we face a global terrorist attack, but we experienced an unforeseen family tragedy and lost a prominent member of the Washington Rose. Let me start with the operational part of the events. We moved fast and efficiently, despite the fact we had to reveal our tactics to the most powerful person in the world. The Empire had plotted a plan to unleash ten attacks simultaneously across the US, and we managed to stop them right after they launched the second one. Thanks to the antidote Duclan created, the losses from the second attack were limited. The disadvantage is that we made ourselves known to the current President of the United States, but I hope we will have a nice and functional relationship with her that won’t lead us to take any actions against her.”
“What you mean by actions?” asked Floriana.
“Let’s just say that the last time a US President chose to confront us, he resigned from office.” The Master smirked. “For the time being, President Alvarez seems to take our intel seriously. While the FBI operation was in progress, she fired her Chief of Staff, the Secretary of Health, and the CIA Director. She guaranteed her administration wouldn’t interfere with our underground operations in exchange for us sharing important intel directly with her. I also need to point out that, despite the pain of her personal loss, Master Norchelle acted within the highest standards of professionalism.”
“There is something Duclan asked me to covey,” Floriana added. “He reassured me that the Empire had not figured out he was a double agent. He also confessed that he was responsible for the death of a corrupt Romanian detective called Dumitrescu. Poor Duclan, he died hoping that Akio Sato was still alive. However, there was something else he said to me. He said that their branch had received information of a Withered Rose working in the ranks of the Empire. A withered rose. He said you know what that means,” Floriana said firmly, despite the painful memories the narration brought back.
“A withered rose. Yes. In the beginning, I thought the withered rose was Duclan. Withered rose is the code name for a member of the Order of the Black Rose who is corrupt or acts as a double agent. However, your mother was the Withered Rose.”
Floriana swallowed hard against the sob that was rising in her throat. She closed her big green eyes tightly, so her tears would not roll down her face. She was hurt inside. However, she did not want to let the others see how overwhelmed she was. Besides, they could easily guess.
“There is something else,” Vittor’s hesitant voice made her open her eyes again.
“Mother told us that you could have saved Father from death. She said a powerful medicine called the Water of Life was in your possession, but you denied Father it. Why the heck did you do that? Why didn’t you save our father? Your own son?”
It was the first time Floriana had heard her brother raise his voice to their grandfather, who was taken by surprise by Vittor’s uncharacteristic display of boldness.
“Well,” the Master cleared his throat, “I never expected that this would come up. Actually, I had even forgotten about it. It was part of an unreasonable confrontation that I had with your mother when your father was infected by that deadly virus. She never mentioned it again, so I assumed she was satisfied by my explanation. It seems now to me that my failure to provide my dying son a treatment that would have saved his life...it was the beginning of the end of your family. Maybe it was what triggered Althea’s madness.” His shoulders drooped, and he sighed.
“During my stay in Millville, I found out that during World War II, under Adolf Hitler’s command, Dr. Foulkaneli created a life-prolonging serum called the Water of Life. Mother was convinced that you still have the formula for that serum,” Vittor said in a probing tone.
“Indeed, he created a life-prolonging serum, and I was the one it was tested on,” the Master admitted calmly. “I was a young, enthusiastic scientist, and I would do anything for science. Apparently, it runs in the family.” He winked. “When he was sure I had survived the test, Dr. Foulkaneli took the medicine himself. We took a few grams of it every day until the war ended. You can see the serum results right in front of you. I am turning 100 in a couple years, and I still look like I am in my seventies. Unfortunately, I did not get to see Dr. Foulkaneli again, but from what I was told, he looked pretty robust for a man who has lived for more than a hundred years. When he fled Berlin, following the Allies’ invasion, Foulkaneli vanished from the face of Earth, and most of his secrets vanished with him. The Water of Life formula was not one of the secrets we have been able to recover. Althea, your mother thought I had the formula hidden, and she urged me to use it to save my son’s life. She never believed I did not have it in my possession. She was convinced I had let my own son die in order to be faithful to the Order’s principles. She never believed that I would rather give up my post as Great Master than watch my only son suffer a painful death.” His voice cracked as he emphasized every word.
An uneasy silence filled the flight cabin until the Master spoke again with a cracking voice. “I know that I have not been the best grandparent in the world. I had always put the needs of the Order before my family duties. But I want you both to know that I never did anything to force your mother leave you. I never made her chose between you two. The choice was all hers, and she made me believe back then that it was because of her concerns about your safety. She believed that if you grew up separately, you would be safer. I never agreed with her, and I had expressed my disagreement. It seems it was then that the first seeds of her illness were planted in her disturbed mind. However, I am devastated that I failed to protect you. I failed to find out that Althea was still alive, and I failed to keep you safe.”
“I played my part in that,” Vittor muttered, his head down. “If I had told you that she had come back from the dead when she first met me, then none of this would have taken place.”
“Could we please stop talking about that,” Floriana grumbled as tears filled her eyes. “I really am not ready to analyze our family issues right now. It will take us much time to process it all.”
“And a bunch of money for therapists,” Vittor added, making them crack a smile.
“However, you have to admit that you, the De Pauls, have never been a boring family.” Eric tried to lighten the mood.
“Yes, we all have skeletons in our closets. Speaking of which, young lady, could you please tell us what on earth you were doing in my crypt? If you had not found the way to sneak in, maybe Duclan would not have gotten the chance to kidnap you,” the Master pointed out with a smirk.
“Yes, Floriana, you need to stop being abducted all the time.” Eric laughed cunningly.
“Well, sir, I was working undercover on your behalf when I discovered the key to the crypt.” She faked annoyance.
“Wait, what crypt?” asked Vittor, making all smile at his ignorance.
“Apparently the House of the Rose has some secrets hidden even from those of us who live there. I did not know about that either,” Eric quipped.
“So, you two have just teamed up and already are working against me,” the Master concluded, his face emotionless, not giving away his thoughts.
“Eric wanted to know more about his family history, and I wanted to thank him for accepting our partnership by tracing his family tree. I hoped I could find something useful in the books on your bookcase, but somehow, I stumbled and accidentally fell on the table corner, making the door to the crypt to open by itself,” said Floriana. “It is amazing. Like a museum full of artifacts from different periods of history. I was looking at a marvelous baculus with flashing emerald gems when Duclan attacked me.”
“Did you see the baculus?” asked the Master, surprised.
“Yes, it was in a glass display, hidden behind an old typewriter.”
“And was it flashing?” Ganni asked astounded.
“Yes, it had four flashing emerald gems on the hilt,” Floriana explained, baffled by her grandfather’s surprise.
“Well, what is it?” Eric asked impatiently.
“I thought we all agreed that the root of this family’s problems lay in secrecy. Maybe it is time to change that. Grandpa, what is that baculus used for?” Vittor requested boldly, surprising his sister with his nerve at raising his voice to the Grand Master twice within a few minutes.
Floriana gave thumbs-up to Vittor before she repeated his question. “Yes, Grandpa, why was that baculus flashing?”
“Well,” the Master sighed, “the baculus is not really a DePaul family responsibility. But after what we have been through and all the horrible things secrecy caused our family, I am going to share a piece of confidential information with you. Besides, the baculus is part of the history of Eric’s family, and since he moved to Malta, Eric has been like an adopted grandson.”
Eric’s eyes glowed playfully, forming an expression unlike any other Floriana had ever seen on his always ready for action face.
“It is the pastoral staff the Grand Master of the Templars once bore as a mark of his jurisdictional power. It has a golden rod with a cross pattée on the hilt and four emerald stones decorating each of the four corners of the cross pattée, the distinguished Christian cross of the Knight Templars. It does not belong to the Grand Master of the Order of the Black Rose, as it is passed from generation to generation of the ancient Maltese family of the Miscalefs. And you, Eric, are a Miscallef yourself.”
“Sounds good,” Eric responded, flattered.
“It is nice indeed, as the name Miscallef means judge. The Miscallefs have always been those who were called to make critical decisions in great historical moments,” explained the Master.
“What kind of historical moments?” Eric beamed in enthusiasm.
“I cannot answer that, as it has never happened in my tenure as Grand Master. It is the baculus that decides when the time has come and that time is when its gems flash. And they had never flashed in my lifetime before Floriana saw them do so,” the Master said, worried. “That is the reason the baculus is kept in the crypt of the House of the Rose. Its awakening signifies a major historical moment. Only the descendants of the Miscallef family can handle the baculus, yet it does not belong to them. It is property of the Order of the Black Rose.”
“And how do the Miscallefs handle the baculus?” Eric asked with sparkling eyes.
“I haven’t the slightest idea.” The Master shook his head in ignorance. And that was the first time in his long life that Ganni DePaul didn’t have an answer to a question regarding the Order of the Black Rose.