Carpathian 00 - The Scarletti Curse

group, wary of outsiders. They were all aware that other children much like Nicoletta had been born to different families throughout their history. Each of them had ancestors who had been burned in the not-so-distant past as witches or devil-worshipers, so they carefully maintained their image as a devout, pious people completely loyal to their don.
    "Be cautious, Maria Pia. The don is…" Nicoletta trailed off, unsure how to put her feelings into words.
    She suspected the don was as "different" as she was—not in the same manner but in ways far more dangerous than the older woman could conceive.
    "I have heard the rumors and have met his famiglia. I do not speak unless spoken to, and Mirella will be too frightened to open her mouth. She is much older and remembers the days gone by."
    "What does she remember?" Nicoletta asked, curious. Among the villagers it was very difficult to separate fact from fiction, rumor from the truth. The Scarletti family history was shrouded in curses and dark mysteries spoken of only in whispers.
    "It is said that Don Scarletti's grandfather strangled his wife with his bare hands." Maria Pia whispered the words softly so the wind could not whisk them to other ears. "Mirella knew her well, served her faithfully. She is convinced the crime was committed and the don's padre covered up the evidence. Three murders in less than two years, all women, and no one did anything."
    Nicoletta had heard the dark whispers of the don's grandfather strangling his wife yet never being punished. The woman had died around the same time as Nicoletta's mother and aunt, and many believed the elder Scarletti had committed more than one crime. But the don's family had closed ranks, and no one was powerful enough to cross them. Nicoletta could almost believe such things of the eldest Scarletti; he certainly seemed to despise females. She could not imagine any woman being chained to such a terrible man.
    'The good Madonna will look after us, Nicoletta, and you will stay out of trouble and out of sight." Maria Pia made it a decree.
    Nicoletta allowed her smile to reach her dark eyes, lighting her face. "Ketsia will watch over me while I rest.'"
    Ketsia nodded solemnly, pleased with the responsibility. She straightened her shoulders and looked quite proud. Nicoletta and the little girl watched Maria Pia begin the trek down the mountain.
    Nicoletta put an arm around Ketsia's shoulders. "I wanted to look at a patch of plants I moved from the far side of the mountain. Sometimes if I move them from below, they struggle with the new elements, at first, and I must instruct them how to grow."
    Ketsia's small mouth formed an O. "You talk to plants?" She looked around to make certain they were alone. Talking to plants didn't sound like something Maria Pia would approve of.
    "Of course. Some of them like me to sing to them." Nicoletta winked at Ketsia. "Like this." She hummed softly, then tried to yodel.
    Ketsia dissolved into a fit of giggles. "I knew you did not really talk to plants." She skipped to keep up Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    with Nicoletta. She had to stop once to pick up the shoes that slipped from Nicoletta's hands onto the path winding up the hill.
    The ocean came into view far below them. The deep blue sea was breaking on the rocks in plumes of white foam. Nicoletta paused to look at the breathtakingly beautiful vista. "You see this, Ketsia? This is what life is about. Not being closed up inside, but free like the birds all around us."
    "Nicoletta, do not go too close to the edge," Ketsia scolded, mimicking Maria Pia almost perfectly.
    "You could fall." She tugged at the wide skirt until Nicoletta reluctantly moved away from the cliff's edge, smiling at the little girl taking her job so seriously.
    Nicoletta loved her life and loved the children who often followed her as she roamed the mountains and valleys in search of the rare, precious plants she needed. She had endless patience, finding the children to be great company on her excursions. And her guardianship of the little ones aided the women in the village while they were tending the sheep or weaving cloth.
    Ketsia and Nicoletta spent the next couple of hours with their hands buried deep in the rich soil.
    Nicoletta did talk to her plants, her soft, crooning, murmurings often making E
    Ketsia laugh helplessly. She nurtured and encouraged the drooping stalks. For some she added mixtures into the soil;