Needlework is a kind of meditation too. When the thread is curving into an intricate ornament and the whisper of silk is mingling with soft laughter, one inevitably feels at ease. Aunt Assunta was generous enough to bring us cookies with sweet wine – so that people wouldn`t gossip that Granacci's family doesn't know how to welcome guests! We could enjoy the freshness and cheerful sounds from the Grand canal through the balcony arch. The warm wind made light curtains flutter. A tiny sunbeam pierced inside to examine the room. Slowly, it counted all the marble tiles of the floor, flashed bright red on the mural in the corner, slid across a polished mirror of the table to break in a sparky dance on the edge of the glass of wine.

The four of us were sitting in the salon. Slowly, inch by inch, the lace was unfolding and so was our conversation. I knew, of course, that the ladies didn't come to please me. All of them were closely connected with Arsago's family, and everyone was curious to learn more about the girl the Count had chosen for his son, as well as to establish friendly relations if the marriage did take place.

When you can`t think of any suitable topic, children and pets can always save the conversation. Joanna was carrying a dog Picoletto everywhere with her – a nimble fluffy ball of unknown breed. Not a single grain of brain as it attacked the old chest of drawers before hiding cowardly under the owner's skirts and then with a sense of a pride stretched on the floor like a little mat of snow-white fur and dozed off. When we got bored of Picoletto, the conversation switched to the upcoming Day of Exile and a burning question of all women in the world: what shall they wear at the ceremony?

A sudden gust of the wind interrupted our relaxing conversation. A low deep sound like someone`s sigh echoed down the street and its fragments hid in the dark corners of the house. For a moment I felt a presence of something strange and that gave me creeps, especially when paurozo`s long song continued that out-of-the world melody of the unknown. We all shuddered and looked at each other.

I put the lace aside and went to close the balcony doors.

“I guess that`s sirocco. I can feel that right here,” Joanna gently punched herself on the velvet bodice with a shimmering pearl necklace.

“Yesterday I had such a strange dream...”

“Mother, you shouldn`t…”

Ines`s voice sounded with reproof but I really wanted to hear that story, and so did Bianca.

“What was it about?”

“Well, I dreamt of coming to the Prosecutor's Gallery at dusk to meet with... well, it doesn`t really matter. I clearly remember that there was no one on the portico. The moon was shining and the seagulls were squawking...”

Joanna stopped for a moment. She was probably reliving that moment again.

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“And what happened next?”

It was strange that the vision chose Joanna. I wished it had chosen me instead…

“Just when I was about to leave, I heard a strange sound. A kind of rustling, you know. Though that wasn`t autumn for sure, and there were no leaves. But I felt scared. And lonely. But when I turned and took just one step, something hit my face. That was a seagull. There were dozens, hundreds of them! All flying between the arches like dark bats. Something was wrong. I tried to brush them off with a shawl, then I started to run. I was running so fast, I couldn't feel my feet! And something was crunching under my shoes. Then I realized what was wrong with those birds, and where that strange rustle came from: they were all dead! All the seagulls were dead and I was running on their dry bones…”

Everyone was silent for a while. Then Bianca sighed and got back to her embroidery.

“That was just a nightmare. I guess, you had eaten lobsters for dinner. I would fire a cook if I were you. Or go for a walk” and she looked out the window. The day was really wonderful.

“A little promenade will dispel any nightmares!”

But Joanna Sacchetti shook her head.

“Don Arsago and the Council of Ten shouldn't have touched those-who-live-in-the-sea,” she said, hinting at my "gift". “Of course, signor Arsago has always been a little obsessed with the magic of chiamata. Especially when they found that mural...”

“Mother!" Ines warned again, but to no avail.

“They found a mural, really? When?” I asked, trying to sound as innocent as I could.

“Many years ago. You were just a little baby then! They found it when Arsago bought a house on the Grande. The old plaster was removed, and underneath there was a great picture of Viadora − like a queen in luxury clothes, with her eyes narrowed. The count was young and arrogant. He believed that it was a sign for their family to revive old magic. But he didn`t have a daughter, and as for Enrique – well, he didn`t get any talent to the sea spell…”

There was a gloat in her voice, carefully disguised as false sympathy. She didn`t forgive don Arsago. Oh, she really hated him! People say that there is no greater threat than a revenge of a broken woman. Suddenly I remembered signor Sacchetti's cunning sharp-nosey face. I wondered how he had survived the news about his wife's affair... Did he find solace in friendship, like a true philosopher, or concealed his anger for the time being?

“No wonder that Enrique isn`t good at magic. No one ever heard about a man with chiamata,” Bianca said.

“Well, actually... there were rumors...”

“Mother, please!” this time something in her daughter`s voice finally made Joanna cease talking.

“Right, I shouldn`t have talked so much,” she murmured. “That`s all because of sirocco. All these dreams and worries... Can I have another cup of tea, darling, please?”

Bianca put aside her needlework and stretched gracefully like a cat.

“Oh, Julie, look at your lace. What a tangled story!” she laughed.

I was so busy with Joanna`s dream that completely forgot about the lace pattern. What a stupid thing to do. Let`s just throw it away!

“I`m tired of my embroidery too,” Bianca added. “Why don`t we get a gondola and take some fresh air? The day is lovely and I want to enjoy it. It`s spring, after all!”

Everyone agreed and I called the maid to get our gondola ready. My guests were glad to change the scenery. They were talking lively while putting their needlework in the baskets. Ines did very well with her embroidery while her mother's piece of lace was even less impressive than mine. However, I learned more about the Count`s family in just one hour than if I had spent a whole week asking careful questions. Joanna Sacchetti was a truly priceless source of information. If you knew how to separate the truth from gossip, of course.