A Student's Dream (Twisted Cogs Book 1) (17 page)

He talked to Carla...

“
Marchelli is a Stormtouched!” she said.

“
One of the great mysteries of Milia,” Niccolo nodded sagely, “no one knows how the Storm touched him. No one has seen his Echo. No one knows what made him give up the Storm to turn to cooking.”

“
Elena knew he was Stormtouched just from hearing him speak?” Joanna asked. “Is there some sign or mannerism that you all pick up on?”

“
Ah, my apologies, you wouldn’t know. He spoke to Carlo’s Echo, you see, and as you know, Mortalis cannot see or hear Echoes.”

“
Echoes?” Joanna sounded confused, and Elena’s stomach dropped.

“
It doesn’t really matter, Mama-” she tried to head the conversation off, but Niccolo was already talking.

“
People who exist solely in the sight and hearing of Stormtouched? Surely Elena must’ve told you about Ele, each of us have a companion like that.”

Joanna opened and closed her mouth a few times. After a few strangled attempts, she turned in her chair to face Niccolo.

“
You can see Ele?” she asked, studying his face as if he might be joking.

“
Of course I can, all Stormtouched can,” Niccolo looked back and forth between Joanna and Elena, “what, did you think Elena was making him up?”

“
I thought...I just assumed she was being stubborn...she always had spells of spitefulness like that...I thought she was being childish,” Joanna stammered.

“
Wait,
that’s
why you forbid her from talking to him?” Niccolo asked incredulously. “You stopped her from talking to her lifelong companion because you thought she was being
childish
?”

“
I...I didn’t know. How was I to know?” Joanna turned back to her daughter, and Elena was surprised to see tears welling in her mother’s eyes, “and I punished you!” she gasped, her eyes wide with horror. “I punished you for talking to your friend!
Ah deos
, Elena...”

“
This is too perfect,” Ele commented from next to Elena, watching the scene unfold. “I never thought I’d see this day. Joanna Lucciano, displaying self-awareness?”

“
Elena...” her mother continued, unaware of Ele’s commentary, “...I can’t believe you would do that to me!”

“
What?” Niccolo looked startled.

“
Ah, that’s more like normal,” Ele sighed.

“
All that time, and you didn’t once explain the truth to me!” Joanna continued. “You could’ve just told me it was due to your Storm, you could’ve said something, and I wouldn’t be feeling so horrible right now!”

“
I didn’t know, Mama I swear!” Elena protested, but her mother was actually crying now, fumbling with a handkerchief.

“
I can’t remember ever feeling so low! Did you really hate me that much, that you would let me punish you for something you had no control over? Was it because you
wanted
to cast me in the role of the villain? Oh, Elena why did you make me think it was just childishness? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“
It wasn’t my fault,” Elena mumbled at the table. If her mother’s tears made her uncomfortable, the presence of the other garzoni at the table made her feel ten times worse. Of all the things they could find out about her, she would’ve wished anything but finding out how much her mother struggled with her.

“
No, you’re right, it was mine. I should have been able to tell what my own daughter was thinking. I’ve been such a bad mother to you, E-e-elena!” Joanna sobbed into her handkerchief.

“
No! Mama no, don’t say that,” Elena wrapped her arms around her mother, trying to console her while at the same time feeling as if her heart might break.

“
Of course not, lots of wonderful mothers break their daughters’ wrists,” Ele said bitterly. Elena whirled on him, her grief turning to anger in a second.

“
You’ve said quite enough, Ele!” In her sudden rage she didn’t even realize that it was the first time she’d talked openly to him in front of her mother in eight years, “why can’t you leave well enough alone?”

“
She broke your wrist?” Niccolo had been silent up until this point, but his voice had a strange tone to it now. Elena didn’t like how he was looking at her mother, although for different reasons than before.

“
No, it wasn’t like that, Niccolo, it was just a mistake,” Elena said, “I was being obstinate, and it made her frustrated, and sometimes she doesn’t know her own strength-”

“
When I say this is the best food in all of Milia, you may rest assured it is only because-oh my, do not cry lovely lady!” Marchelli gasped, setting the tray of bruschetta down and hovering around Joanna like a fly, “I know it was hard to wait, but the food is here now!”

“
Marchelli, you must forgive me,” Niccolo stood suddenly, kicking his chair back. Elena suddenly noticed how he towered above them, and how dark his eyes were. The arrows in his quiver and the knife at his belt seemed more ominous, and for the first time she wondered why he always carried them. She wondered how often he had used them. A shiver ran down her spine as he continued, his voice low. “You know how much it takes to turn my stomach, so you’ll appreciate it when I say I’ve lost my appetite.”

“
Quae est ista licet,
my friend, I get paid either way. Next time perhaps,” Marchelli seemed truly concerned for Niccolo as the Saggitari walked towards the door. In the doorway he stopped and turned, so suddenly that Nicci accidentally stepped through him and paused on the other side.

“
You’re not a bad mother, Miss Lucciano,” Niccolo said over his shoulder, “you’re a bad human being.”

“
Niccolo!” Elena gasped, but he was gone, and Nicci followed. There was a brief and awkward pause as Marchelli looked back and forth between the guests at the table.

“
Kitchens,” Carla said quietly to Carlo, and the pair stood and left without a word.

“
Eat what you will, Niccolo’s garzona friend,” Marchelli said, not unkindly, although he ignored her mother, “I will have the remainder sent on to Master De Luca’s studio for them to use in the kitchens. And the bill.” He walked back to the kitchen with just a little more haste in his waddle than he had before.

“
Mama...please eat, Mama, the food is good, and it can be just the two of us.”

“
You don’t...you don’t agree with him, do you?” Joanna sniffled into her handkerchief. “You don’t think I’m a bad mother do you, Elena?” Ele opened his mouth as if he might speak, and Elena shot him a furious look of warning.

“
No, Mama, of course not,” she reassured. The food did smell good, and Elena pulled a plate toward her mother and piled it with the best-looking pieces of bruschetta.

“
I’ve always loved you and only wanted what’s best for you, you know that don’t you?”

“
I’ve always known that, Mama. I love you too.”

The Luccianos spent the rest of their meal in silence.

“
It’s almost a shame that we’ll be using these up,” Elena smiled as she emptied the box of cylinders onto her workstation. The little silver tubes jangled musically as they rattled across the desk.

“
What else are we going to do with them, besides using them up?” Ele stood next to her, leaning with his back against the bench so that he could view the entire workshop. His arms were crossed, and his gaze flicked back and forth across the room, settling on each garzoni for just a few moments before it moved to the next. It was rare for all of the garzoni to occupy the room at the same time, and the subtle hum of eight craftsmen working with their various projects was comforting to Elena. For Ele it seemed to have the opposite effect, and he had been on-edge for the entire afternoon.

“
I just like how it sounds when I play with them. They’re like tiny bells,” Elena rolled the cylinders back and forth, smiling at their melodic jingling. She glanced at Ele, his arms crossed, a scowl on his face. “You don’t have to be so cranky,” she murmured, quietly enough that the other students couldn’t hear her, “you’ll have to get used to other garzoni being around sooner or later.”

“
It’s not them being around that’s bothering me, and I’m not cranky,” Ele didn’t turn to her as he spoke, softly, barely moving his lips, “I’m
high-strung
, because something bad’s coming.”

“
What do you mean ‘something bad’?”

“
I don’t know how to explain it. I just just smell it on the air, like a storm about to break. I can feel it. Something bad.”

Elena gave him a look of exasperation as she began sorting the metal tubes on her desk, organizing them into small groups by type and by size. “Honestly Ele could you be any more cliched? ‘You feel it in the air’, what garbage.”

The brush handles were
not
the right sizes, and Elena frowned as she held the thin pieces up against the tubes. Most of the tubes she could force into place on the end of the handles, but a full quarter of them would have to be cut down to size.

“
Do you think we could get Frederica to carve the ends of these down to fit the silver caps?” she asked Ele, holding up the ill-fitting tubes and the brush handles that were supposed to slide right into them.

“
You think she’s going to help you make brushes for Carlo and Vittoria?” Ele raised an eyebrow. “Something that makes one garzona look good and helps two garzoni produce better work? She’s smart enough to not help her competition, so no, I don’t think we could get her to.”

“
We’ll just have to re-order them then.
Adtono
,” Elena swore, “well we can make the smaller brushes at least.”

“
Because apparently, unlike Frederica, we’re not smart enough not to help our competition.”

Elena didn’t answer for a few moments, instead focusing on carefully twisting bunches of bristles into groups. When she was done, she would slide the bristles into the other end of the tubes, then crimp the tube on both sides. She’d never made paintbrushes before, but the buzzing along her fingertips told her she was on the right track.

“
This is what I do, Ele,” she finally replied, just as quietly.

“
I know it’s what you do, you’re a Fabera, I’m just asking if you have to do it for
them
.”

“
No, I mean helping them is what I do. I can’t be mean like you and Leanarda want me to be, it’s just not who I am. I want to help people, I want my work to be useful, and even more I want to see the beautiful things other people can make. Don’t you? Doesn’t everyone? Isn’t that why we’re all here, because we were inspired by the beautiful art people make?”

“
Naive,” Ele said. “I want to see pretty art too, but not if it’s Carlo painting it while we’re seeing it from the street.”

“
We’ll be more valuable to Master De Luca if he sees us helping all of his other garzoni,” Elena replied confidently, “he’s been missing out on a good Fabera in his studio, so it’s up to us to show him what a good Fabera can do. A Fabera in his studio will help every other garzoni’s work.”

“
Or he’ll decide that we can’t produce anything of our own and wonder what we contribute to art.”

“
Your arguments would hold a lot more weight if you weren’t this pessimistic all the time.”

“
I’m not pessimistic, I’m realistic.”

“
You mean like ‘something bad is going to happen’?” Elena teased. “Was that ‘realistic’, or just you being-”

“
Maledictus a matre
!” Frederica shrieked the curse above the quiet murmur of the workshop, and work ceased as the assembled garzoni turned to look at her, startled. “Who did this? Which one of you pathetic, ignorant, Storm-forsaken
perniciosu stulti
did this?” Elena paled at the look on the older girl’s face, contorted in such rage that it was almost unrecognizable.

In Frederica’s outstretched hand lay a small bird carved from maple wood. It was almost complete, from its lifelike beak to the small delicate cuts that defined the feathers, a tiny and beautiful little masterpiece. It was marred only by the fact that one of its fragile wings had fractured, and lay separate in her hand.

“
Frederica,” Vittoria approached with a gentle tone. Elena didn’t know whether to admire the girl’s bravery or warn her away, since Frederica still held the small detailing knife in her other hand. It didn’t seem to bother Vittoria, her face serene as she rested a hand on the Caelator’s arm, “you don’t know that someone did this on purpose. Maybe someone was just admiring your work and accidentally dropped it, something of that nature.”

“
Knife marks,” Frederica held up the severed wing as she spat the words, “this wasn’t an accident, it was sabotage, and someone used my own tools to do it. Which of you was it?” She gestured with her other hand, pointing across the room with her knife to indicate Lorenzo, Leanarda, Mella and Elena. “Which one of you thought they were being clever?”

No one answered, even as the silence began to stretch. It was a different kind of silence than Elena was normally used to in the workshop, one not of solitude but of high tension.

“
Whoever did this, it’s only going to go worse for you from here on out,” Fred seemed much calmer than his counterpart, but his hands were clenched in tight fists, “Master De Luca
will
be back in a few days, and if the culprit hasn’t stepped forward by then we’ll have no choice but to bring the bird to him. We’re not stupid, we know what this is.”

“
Maybe I’m stupid, ‘cause I’m not sure I do,” Niccolo had been silent up until that point, resting his arm on his knee and watching the scene unfold, “what is it you think ‘this’ is, Fred?”

“
It’s the provisionals trying to look good to Master De Luca,” Frederica was the one to answer, “they think if I have one less project to show him that’ll make them look that much better.”

“
Why are you so sure it a provisional garzoni?” Leanarda finally spoke up. Frederica’s gaze snapped to where she sat, the knife pointing in her direction as if Frederica wasn’t even aware of it.

“
It was. I know it was. Probably you, Leanarda. Did you do this?” Frederica’s voice was slowly growing quieter, but that only made the hum of anger in it even worse somehow.

“
I was just asking. You seem pretty quick to rule out Carlo, Vittoria, and Niccolo.”

“
Leanarda’s right!” Mella was usually one of the most quiet in the group, but she spoke up now with a kind of terrified defiance. “You’re so sure it was one of us trying to get ahead, but all eight of us are competing for the four spots. It could’ve been one of them,” she pointed back across the room.

“
It’s not one of them. They wouldn’t...” Frederica paused as if choosing her words carefully. “They’ve got better things to do with their time than try to mess with me, and they know that the second Master De Luca finds out who did this they’re out of the studio.”

“
I’m honestly curious now,” Leanarda had noticed Frederica’s hesitancy, “you have some reason for trusting Vittoria, Carlo, and Niccolo, and if you don’t want to tell any of us that’s fine. Just ask yourself how strong that reason is, Frederica. Whatever you think is stopping them from turning on you, is it more important to them than staying garzoni?”

“
You’re trying to manipulate me, but it’s pathetic,” Frederica scoffed, “you don’t know anything, so you don’t know how transparent you sound.” Frederica turned and threw the broken bird into the crate beneath her desk. “I
will
be telling De Luca you did this.”

“
You don’t know it was me!” Leanarda protested as Frederica turned her back. “Even if you’re oh-so-trustful of those three, it could’ve been someone else-”

“
Who? Mella?” Frederica didn’t turn around, “she wouldn’t have the spine to use my knives without permission, let alone do that. If it was Mella, you told her to. And stupid as this plan is, Lorenzo’s too stupid to come up with it. No offense, Lorenzo.”

“
Hmm?” Lorenzo looked up from the set of three discs he had been fiddling with. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. What are we talking about?”

“
So Elena is among your list of trusted friends and allies then?” Leanarda challenged, her eyes narrowing.

“
Elena is too naive to be this nasty, and too mousy to be this aggressive.”

“
Hey-” Elena was grateful that Frederica didn’t think her capable of ruining the bird, but she wasn’t quite sure she liked the reasons. Frederica spoke right over her protests.

“
More importantly, Elena understands that the ART. COMES. FIRST.” Frederica’s shoulders shook with emotion, but her voice was quiet when she continued. “Sure, Elena is a know-nothing annoying little puke, just like the rest of you. And sure, she probably hates me just as much as the rest of you too. But she made these,” Frederica held up one of her new knives with the lilium designs, “because she respects the art. She knows that whatever other little games you all want to play, the art comes first. She knows that however she might feel about me, the art comes first. That makes her worth a thousand of you.”

Elena turned back to her desk, more to avoid Leanarda’s gaze than to continue with her work. It was hard to dissect the emotions she was feeling towards Frederica at the moment. On the one hand, she shouldn’t be surprised that Frederica didn’t much care for her. On the other, it
did
sound like she almost...respected her? Surely that was better, or perhaps nearly as good... Elena shook her head, trying to sort out the new information.

“
Meis auditaque
, Frederica, don’t make the provisionals feel so welcome, they’ll get too comfortable,” Niccolo muttered, resuming running his knife along the edge of a small stone.

“
Do I look like I give a Storm’s tingle about making them feel welcome?” Frederica gestured to the crate of scraps where she’d thrown the bird, “maybe next time they won’t damage my craft.”

“
As you’ve all decided to talk about us as if we aren’t here anyway, I’m going for a walk.” Leanarda stood and set her brush down carefully, “Mella, Lorenzo, would you like to join me?” The fact that she hadn’t invited Elena was obviously intentional, but Leanarda’s feelings for her hadn’t been in question for a while. Leanarda and Mella neither liked nor respected her.

“
Hmm? Ah, no thank you, I’m quite busy with this,” Lorenzo said, and Mella and Leanarda departed without another word. The workshop was once again quiet but for the scraping of Niccolo’s knife on his whetstone. Elena suddenly wondered if she should buy a small chest for her projects, one she could lock up at night. If it was true that Leanarda was the saboteur, Elena’s work was probably fairly high on the list of targets.

“
You figured out what I needed in a knife just by looking, Elena,” Frederica broke the silence again, abruptly, “can you do that with other stuff?”

“
I...I’m not sure,” Elena was caught off guard by the seemingly random question.

“
I’m buying a block of maple today. It’s important, and you could help.”

“
But I don’t know anything about wood.”

“
You said you didn’t know anything about carving either, but you had all of those ‘flashes of inspiration’.”

“
I guess so...but I can’t force them to come to me. I just know how some things are put together.”

“
Hmm,” Frederica grunted, then stood, “come with me.”

“
Where are we going?”

“
I told you, I’ve got a block of maple to buy. You have to help me with all my supplies, so you’re coming to help,” without so much as a backward glance, Frederica walked out of the room.

“
I guess I owe you an apology, Ele,” Elena brushed the cylinders, brush handles, and bristles into the corner of her desk and hid them with a rag, making a mental note to buy a chest with a lock. “You were right about something bad happening. That ‘storm about to break’.”