A Magic of Dawn

Varina ca’Pallo

“How have you been recovering?” Sergei asked her. “You certainly look well, like you’re a decade younger than you are.”

Sergei had come to the Numetodo House, and Johannes had escorted him down to Varina’s workroom. Varina saw him eyeing the sparkwheel prototype she had set in a vise, pointing at the straw dummy at the far end of the room. This version of the sparkwheel had a significantly longer barrel; she had wondered whether that might improve the accuracy of the shot. Varina flipped a sheet over the apparatus as she laughed at the blatant compliment. “I have to believe that your eyes are failing in your old age then, Sergei. But thank you for the lie.”

“Karl saw your beauty, as I do-though it took him longer than it should have.”

She managed to smile at that, remembering. In the midst of the war, in the midst of death and terror, there had been Karl, and that had made it all bearable. Yet now it seemed those times were to return, and Karl was gone. She didn’t know how she was going to live through another war and more battles.

She wasn’t certain she wanted to.

“The Morellis are becoming more than a simple nuisance, I’m afraid,” Sergei was saying. “Unfortunately, I need to leave the city again, so I can’t join the hunt for Morel himself. However, I’ll make certain that Commandant cu’Ingres understands the importance both the Kraljica and I place on tracking down the man. You were lucky that you were with your people. I understand it was your magic that killed one of them-I hope that you’re not too upset by that. You truly had no choice.” She thought that his gaze was strangely intense on her as he said the last, as if he were watching her for a reaction. She wondered what he’d heard, what he suspected. She forced herself not to look at the covered sparkwheel.

Not magic. Something more dangerous.

“I regret that it came to that,” she told him, truthfully. “If I could have avoided it, I would have. But…” She lifted a shoulder. Over her warped reflection in his nose, Sergei’s gaze flicked to the sheet on the table and back again. He leaned heavily on his cane, his back bowed.

“You wouldn’t be who you are if you didn’t feel that way,” Sergei said, “but I assure you that no one blames you in the slightest. The man brought his death upon himself. He has no one to blame but himself and his actions, and-you’ll pardon my saying this here-Cenzi will give him the eternal punishment he deserves.”

“Mentioning Cenzi in the Numetodo House seems almost sacrilegious.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” he answered, chuckling. “I’ll admit I was surprised to find you here. I called at your house, and your house servant said that you’d been working here for the last several days and often staying overnight. I worry about you, Varina, especially after what you’ve been through.”

“A few aches and pains is all,” she told him, “and I had those in plenty before the attack. It comes with age, you know.”

“As we both know.” His gaze went back to the covered apparatus again. “Varina, I think you should leave Nessantico. Go north, perhaps. Maybe go to Il Trebbio. Or even go visit Karl’s homeland. I hear the Isle of Paeti is gorgeous.”

“You think it’s going to be that bad, Sergei?”

His fingers tightened around the knob of his cane. His tongue licked his upper lip. “Yes,” he said. “And no. When Jan brings the Firenzcian army, we should prevail, but that still won’t be without loss and it won’t be without hardship, and it may be that the battle will take place here again, in Nessantico. I hope not, but if the Tehuantin ships move quickly…” He nodded, as if he were agreeing with a new thought he’d had. “I think it would be best if you were gone from here.”

“If the battle does come here, then here is where I’m needed.”

He glanced at the sheet again with that. “Talbot could be A’Morce Numetodo for the time being. He can lead and direct them. Unless… Unless there is something that only you can do.”

“You’re not very subtle, Sergei.”

“And you’re not very good at keeping secrets, Varina.”

She stared at him blandly. “The Numetodo don’t keep secrets. We want knowledge to flourish. I gave the formula for black sand to you and the Kraljica, if you remember. Freely.”

“Yes, you did. And Nico Morel stole some and used it against you.”

Varina flushed at the memory. “It’s ignorance and secrecy that causes problems with the world,” she said. “Not knowledge.”

“What causes problems is what people do with the knowledge.”

“Strange how often it’s the ca’-and-cu’ who always say that. It’s underneath half the platitudes I hear from the rich: they feel that the lower ranks should be kept uneducated and ignorant.”

Sergei’s eyebrows rose at that. “What strange philosophies have you been listening to, Varina? Next I know, you’ll be claiming that the peasants should enjoy everything that the ca’-and-cu’ have.”

“I grew up in a ce’ family,” she answered. “I know what it’s like to be on the bottom of society.”

“And now you’re ca’, and you also know that it’s possible to be rewarded for your hard work and your intelligence. You’re an example of what every unranked and ce’ person can aspire to accomplish.”

“Possible, perhaps,” she said, “but I would argue that I am the exception rather than the rule, and that there are many unranked and ce’ who deserve better, and ca’-andcu’ who deserve less.”

Sergei lifted a hand. “No doubt. But who is to determine which? We have to leave that to Cenzi-ah, sorry. There I go again-or, as I suppose you would say, to an accident of fate.” He chuckled again. “And this is an argument neither of us will win, and I’ve no desire to leave you in a poorer mood than I found you. Varina, promise me that you’ll consider leaving the city.”

“I will consider it,” she told him. She didn’t tell him that she had already considered it and made up her mind. Instead, she smiled and put her own hands atop his. Her hands were like his: knobby and wrinkled, the flesh loose on the bones; the hands of an ancient. “Come,” she told him. “Let’s go upstairs where it’s more comfortable, and we can continue our talk over tea and scones.”

Gently, she ushered him from the workroom, locking the door behind them.