Page 53 of In the Garden of Monsters

A servant turned off the lights, and we were suddenly doused in a flickering dimness, lit only by a pair of candelabras in different corners of the room.

Ignazio capped the brandy and set it aside. He handed Gala a matchbox, and she gleefully struck a match against its side, then lit the bowl on fire. It glowed blue as the alcohol burned.

“Now we snatch away. The person who eats the most wins,” Gala declared. “Ignazio, will you keep track for us?”

He nodded. “Of course, Signora Dalí. I would be happy to track all your fiery snacks.” His eyes caught mine, and he winked, then retrieved a pad and pen from the credenza.

“What will we win?” Lillian asked.

“A hundred and fifteen thousand lire,” Dalí declared.

“Dio mio,”Paolo breathed.

I sucked in a breath and glanced at Lillian. She nodded at me, her eyes wide.

“But,” Dalí added with great dramatic flair, “if Gala or I win, you get nothing.”

I had the sneaking suspicion that this game had nothing to do with the money—it was merely a convenient way to get me to eat a pomegranate seed.

“And we commence.” Dalí clapped his hands together very fast.

Having played the game before, he and Gala did not hesitate to stick their hands in the flaming dish, pluck out fiery fruits and pop them into their mouths. Dalí’s morsel was still lit with blue flames, and I couldn’t understand how he wasn’t worried about his mustache catching fire. Jack and Lillian quickly mastered the game, too, but Paolo and I were more tentative—he because of the fire, me because of the damn seeds.

The first morsel I took was a fig. It was boozy and warm but didn’t burn my fingers or my tongue. But, as I was about to grab a second piece, Ignazio tossed something into the flames and the fire flared up gold and bright, causing us all to jump back.

“Just a little salt.” He grinned. In the firelight, he looked almost demonic, his mouth in a sly smile, one eyebrow arched, his pale eyes boring into me, making my heart race.

Over and over, our hands danced in and out of the flames. If it weren’t for my fear of consuming another pomegranate seed, I think I would have had a wonderful time. The game was dangerous, adventurous, and a tad ridiculous.

Soon I was moving fast, my hand flying into the blue flames. I didn’t drop any, trusting that this wouldn’t have been a game that families and their children played over the centuries if it was that hazardous. Each time I stuck my hand into the flickering blue, I became more confident that I could avoid the pomegranate seeds.

Until I didn’t.

As soon as it hit my tongue, my stomach flipped. I looked up to find Ignazio staring at me, his eyes anticipating what I already knew, and I decided I wasn’t going to swallow it. The room was dark, and the atmosphere chaotic. Sure I could get away with hiding the seed, I tucked it under my tongue and went for the next piece. It was an almond. I chewed the nut with my tongue sealed to the bottom of my mouth, the pomegranate seed safely nestled beneath. But Ignazio never took his eyes off me. I had no clue when I would be able to throw away the seed, and I hoped the awkwardness of it being under my tongue when I spoke wouldn’t make anyone ask if I was feeling all right.

The fire eventually died down, and the remaining pomegranate seeds and currants sat at the bottom, the almonds, figs, and raisins snapped up by virtue of their size. All eyes turned to Ignazio for the final tally. He gave me yet another long look, and I was positive he knew I’d never swallowed the seed. My cheeks burned with crimson heat. He was going to say something, I was sure of it. He would tell them I cheated. But instead, he turned the notepad around so we could see the scores.

“Julia has won, by one piece over Signora Dalí,” he announced. Gala scowled.

Lillian let out a little shout of excitement and gave me a big hug.

“Dang nabbit. I really thought I had that one.” Jack snapped his fingers in disappointment.

“Wow,” I said, careful to keep my tongue in place. “I can’t believe it.” It was only a few words, and everyone was talking simultaneously, so they missed the slight shift in my speech.

“What a gas,” Lillian exclaimed. “And no one got burned.” She sat down next to me and reached for her glass of wine. “A toast to our winner.”

“Yes.” Ignazio took up the carafe of wine and began refilling our glasses. “It will help wash down what is left of the flames.” He was joking, of course, but the look he gave me when he refilled my wine made it clear that he expected me to wash down something more.

I took a sip and spit the pomegranate seed into my glass. Then I set the goblet down in front of Lillian. I nudged her with my knee, then tapped the glass with my finger, hoping she would get the hint before anyone noticed the seed floating in my wine. She did, and she immediately drained my goblet, seed and all.

Just as she set it back down on the table, a massive crack of thunder sounded overhead. It was so loud none of us even realized at first that it was thunder. Instead, we all dropped to the floor to put the table above us, the survival training of the War still so instinctively drilled into us.

From my vantage point on the tiles, I saw Ignazio storming out of the salon. At the door, he turned and gazed down at where we huddled, his eyes catching mine. The anger there set my heart to even more furious pounding. He’d done this, I was suddenly sure. He knew I hadn’t eaten the seed, and he’d brought on this storm with his rage.

My ghost—for that was how I had begun to think of her—appeared a few feet away from where Ignazio’s stare burned into me. This me wore a gown from the previous century, with an Empire-style waistline and her blond hair piled high upon her head. Like the other ghosts, she held up three fingers. Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the darkest corners of the room. Then the ghost was gone, winking out at the moment the heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind Ignazio, a simultaneous crack of thunder rattling the windows.

Lillian crawled out from under the table first. She reached a hand down and pulled me out.

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