majestic and terrifying animal didn't seem to be truly evil, nor did it seem to be bothered by Marco's attack. The true enemy seemed to be hiding elsewhere, menacing and horrific, in the darkness. Every time, in the dream, when he tried to reach his brother's hand from the eagle's back, he sensed an evil gaze that was watching him from far away and that followed his movements attentively and obsessively. At the same time, though, he sensed a mysterious presence around him that filled him with serenity and courage—and he knew that this presence was connected in some way with both the eagle and Tommaso. This presence had no form or shape whatsoever but, rather often during the day, the faded image –or was it only an idea?—of a woman's smiling face remained engraved in Marco's memory.

Marco stayed seated on his bed for a few more minutes, letting himself be lulled by the piano music that had the power to calm him and to guide him on the slow but inexorable journey back to reality. Tommaso was not around anymore and hadn't been for some time now. That was the only reality; and there was nothing that he could do about it. It was better to pull himself