Barbarossa let go of the pigtails as if they had burned him. "Contessa? Valaresso?"

"Of course! The little Contessa often visits her grandfather. Isn't that right, Morosina?" Scipio smiled at her. "But what brings you to this island, Signor Barbarossa? Business?"

"What? Oh...yes, yes." Barbarossa nodded vigorously. "Business." He was still far too bewildered to notice that Morosina was looking at Scipio with just as much confusion.

"Indeed? Well, the Conte asked me to come here and take a look at this merry-go-round." Scipio turned his back on Barbarossa and tugged his earlobes, just like his father always did. "The city may want to buy it. But I'm afraid it's in rather a sorry state. You do recognize it, of course, don't you?"

"Recognize it?" Barbarossa stood next to Scipio -- and suddenly his eyes opened wide. "Of course! Unicorn, mermaid, lion, merman" -- he smacked his forehead -- "...and there's the sea horse. The merry-go-round of the Merciful Sisters! Incredible!" He lowered his voice and gave Scipio a conspiratorial look. "What about all the stories? What people say about it?"

Scipio shrugged. "Do you want to have a go?" he asked with a smile that didn't look at all like Dottor Massimo. Luckily, Barbarossa didn't notice that either.

"Do you know how to start it?" the redbeard asked, already lumbering with some difficulty on to the platform.

"Oh, I have two young helpers with me," Scipio replied. "They must be back there somewhere. Probably trying to dodge work again." He waved Prosper and Renzo out from behind the merry-go-round. "Come on, you two. Signor Barbarossa wants to take a ride."

When he saw Prosper, Barbarossa's eyes immediately narrowed. "What's he doing here?" he growled. He stared suspiciously at Prosper. "I know that boy. He works for -- "

"I work for Dottor Massimo now," Prosper interrupted him as he stood next to Scipio. Morosina ran to her brother and whispered something in his ear. Renzo went pale.

"He gave the dogs poisoned meat!" Renzo shouted. He leaped on to the platform, but Barbarossa just pushed him down again.

"So what? They'll live," he barked. "Was I supposed to let myself be chased by those hounds of hell?"

"Go and give them some ipecac [Traditional Brazilian plant used to induce vomiting in animals as well as humans.]," Renzo said to Morosina without taking his eyes off the redbeard. "There should still be some in the stables somewhere."

Morosina ran off. Barbarossa watched her, looking very self-satisfied.

"Those monsters deserved it, believe me, Dottore," he said to Scipio. "Do you know if it matters which animal one sits on?"

"Take the lion, redbeard!" Renzo stared with loathing at Barbarossa. "That's probably the only one that will take your weight."

Barbarossa looked at him with disdain, but he did waddle over to the lion. As he heaved his huge body onto the figure, the wood groaned as if the beast were coming alive.

"Excellent!" Barbarossa asserted. "I'm ready for a little test-drive."

Scipio placed his hands on Prosper's and Renzo's shoulders. "You know what to do. Give Signor Barbarossa the ride he deserves."

"But just one round, to start with!" Barbarossa shifted his massive body forward a bit further and grabbed the pole with his ringed fingers. "Who knows, if the stories are true ... I mean, I wouldn't like to turn into a little midget like that one there," he said, pointing down at Renzo, "but a few years..." stroking his bald head and laughing "... who wouldn't want to shed a few years, eh, Dottore?"

Scipio answered him with a thin smile.

"Renzo, Prosper, a good shove for Signor Barbarossa!" he ordered.

Prosper and Renzo stepped up to the merry-go-round. Renzo put his hand on the merman's back; Prosper braced himself against the unicorn.

"Hold on, redbeard!" shouted Renzo. "This is going to be the ride of your life!"

The merry-go-round started with a big jolt. It looked as if the unicorn wanted to jump at the lion's neck. Looking worried, Barbarossa clung to the pole. "Hey, not so hard!" he yelled, but the merry-go-round spun around faster and faster.

"Stop!" Barbarossa cried. "Stop! I'm going to be sick!"

But the figures kept spinning around in circles, round after round.

Barbarossa shouted, "Darned contraption!" and it sounded to Prosper as if his voice was already higher-pitched.

"Jump off, redbeard!" Renzo mocked. "Jump, if you dare."

But Barbarossa didn't jump. He screamed, he cried, he hit the pole, and he kicked the lion, as if that could slow down this mad ride.

And then, suddenly, it happened.

In his desperate attempt to find a foothold, Barbarossa pushed his feet against the lion's wings. Scipio, Renzo, and Prosper all heard the old wood splinter. Then there was a terrible shattering sound, as if something alive was breaking apart.

"No!" Prosper heard Renzo scream. But there was nothing to be done.

The wing spun through the air, bounced off the merman, and landed with a loud thump on the platform. From there it slid down and hit Prosper's arm so violently that he doubled up in pain.

The merry-go-round lurched through one final round, and finally the figures shuddered to a sickening halt.

"Madonna!" Prosper heard an unfamiliar voice moaning. "What kind of a nightmarish ride was that?"

A boy slid down with shaking legs from the lion's back. Moaning, he tumbled toward the edge of the wooden platform. He stumbled over his pant legs -- and then stared in disbelief at his fingers: short, little, fat fingers, dimpled with rosy fingernails.

45 A Few Rounds Too Many

"He's broken it!" Renzo cried. He jumped onto the platform, pushed the mini Barbarossa aside so that he nearly fell over, and bent over the lion. Ida's wing was still firmly in its place, but only a stump remained of the other one. Renzo looked in desperation at Prosper and Scipio. Then, as if suddenly remembering the real culprit, he leaped at Barbarossa, who was still staring in shock at his fingers.

"You absolute idiot!" Renzo screamed. He gave Barbarossa a push that made him tumble backward against the sea horse. "You creep onto my island, you poison my dogs, you threaten my sister, and now you've just destroyed what I've spent half my life working for!"

"It wouldn't stop!" Barbarossa cried, holding his arms up protectively. Renzo kept flailing around blindly, until Prosper jumped on to the platform and held him back -- with his one good hand. His other arm still hurt from its encounter with the wing. Renzo let his arms fall without resistance. Then he gazed at the mutilated lion.

Scipio was truly frightened. Slowly, as if he was afraid of what he might find, he walked toward the bush where the wing had landed. He pulled it from the branches.

"We'll have another wing made, Renzo!" he said as he stroked the splintered wood.

Renzo stepped up to the lion and rested his head against the wooden mane. "No," he said. "Why do you think I spent so much time looking for the second wing? I learned that after the thieves had lost the real wing the Conte Valaresso had more than thirty wings carved. But without the original, the merry-go-round is just that -- a merry-go-round."