A Student's Dream (Twisted Cogs Book 1)

by Hemmings, Malcolm

  Bea was beaming, and even De Luca half-smiled, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

  “I’d be impressed, if this was your typical level of intuition,” he said.

  “Every single studio has to make choice in the students they accept. Garzoni whose Storm is better suited for art, balanced with the garzoni whose Storm is better suited for battle...it’s a little barbaric, but it means all eight studios are in a constant state of flux, each of them having their time to shine over the years,” the buzz of the Storm had faded, but it had helped enough for Elena to continue the thought process on her own. She was so awestruck that she was almost whispering. “You keep the provisionals in the dark for the first two months to see if they’re better suited for art or for combat. Why did I never question how Niccolo became a full garzoni in an art studio?”

  “Because, on your own and without your Storm, you’re an incredibly unobservant girl,” De Luca chuckled, “it’s a touch ironic.”

  “But I don’t understand, what does this mean?” Elena asked. “I’m...I’m a Fabera. I build things. Like Pietro said, ‘a Fabera can make a nice table’.”

  “I’ve been away, Elena, so I’m afraid I’ve not seen your work, but I somehow doubt that ‘building tables’ is the extent of your Storm. In fact, I would bet that you haven’t built anything overly complicated at all.”

  “I made Frederica new knives that were better than her old ones!” Elena protested.

  “Made them yourself? Built with your own two hands?”

  “Not exactly...but I designed them myself, and fixed everything that was wrong with the old ones-”

  “So you built them in your mind then?” The question stopped Elena up short as De Luca continued. “The Storm is subtle in its touches, Elena. Subtle enough that one rarely sees two people touched the same way. Yet even so, your Storm happens to be quite unique.”

  “Special. Twisted,” Elena murmured to herself, remembering her dream.

  “Some Faberi might have skill at furniture-making, but I assure you that such a Faberi would have no place in my studio, unlike yourself.”

  Elena pondered the statement for a few moments before its full meaning sunk in.

  “I can stay?” she gasped, “I’m a full garzona?”

  “You are nothing of the kind,” De Luca said severely, “but yes, at least until we whittle our garzoni down to four, you can stay.”

  Elena’s legs were so weak that if she had been standing, she would’ve collapsed. As it was she slumped in the chair, shaking with relief.

  “Now, if there is no more discussion, I’ve had a very long trip and would like to sleep,” De Luca waved a hand to dismiss her.

  “I just had one more question Master De Luca,” Elena ventured.

  “I somehow doubt that, but go ahead.”

  “How do you know so much about how the Storm touched me?”

  De Luca’s face was impassive, but out of the corner of her eye Elena noticed Bea glance for a split-second at the neat stack of scrolls on the edge of his desk. It happened so fast that she might’ve imagined it, and Bea’s face became just as impassive as De Luca’s.

  “I may be an Artifex, Elena, but I am above all a Master Stormtouched,” De Luca replied with dignity, “if I wasn’t able to help Stormtouched other than Artifexes, there would be no reason for them to attend my studio. Now, really I must insist, to bed with you.”

  Elena stood on wobbly feet and made her way to the door, a silent Ele behind her. At the doorway she turned.

  “Oh, Master De Luca?”

  “I knew that wasn’t your last question.”

  “Sorry sir. I just wondered...why do they all have code-names? Names like ‘Maple’ and ‘Hundred Eye’ and things like that? Isn’t it easy to find out who they really are?”

  “They all have code-names,” Master De Luca gave a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes, “because they are melodramatic, silly young adults for whom art and war are apparently not exciting enough. I don’t know when the tradition started, but I’m hardly going to prohibit them from it. I’m sure you’ll come up with something equally ridiculous when it’s time. ‘Builder Girl’ or ‘Faberulous’ or something. Now please, Elena for the love of all that is sacred get out of here.”

  “Constructor,” Ele said as they walked through the hallways back to their room.

  “Hmm?”

  “As a code-name. You should go with ‘Constructor’. Oh, no wait, what about ‘Design’?”

  “No,” Elena shook her head, struggling to keep her eyes open for the brief way they had to walk, “I already know what my code-name will be. I had a dream about it.”

  “Oh? Well don’t take my input or anything,” Ele grumbled, “what is it?”

  “‘Cog’. I think I like ‘Cog’.”

  Chapter XXV

  Venomous Slug

  The heavy autumn heat had finally broken, and the air was crisp and cool as it blew through the open courtyard of Bernardo De Luca’s Studio. The skies were a cloudless blue, the leaves had turned their bright oranges and yellows, and the courtyard was filled with the sound of laughter.

  “Look, I’m trying to have an adult conversation here, and just because you all took it the wrong way doesn’t mean you should laugh at me,” Carlo had to raise his voice to be heard over Niccolo, Nicci, Vittoria and Vi’s mirth as Elena approached the group, a small wooden case beneath her arm.

  “You...you can’t seriously expect us to believe that you didn’t know how that would sound,” Niccolo gasped for air between laughs.

  “It wasn’t so bad...or at least it wouldn’t have sounded that bad if you weren’t so dirty-minded,” Carlo retorted.

  “What’s so funny?” Elena asked as she joined the group.

  “Elena, perfect timing,” Niccolo waved, “alright Carlo, we’ll put it to the test.”

  “Or we could just drop the whole thing,” Carla seemed much less amused at Carlo’s discomfort, but Niccolo shook his head.

  “No no, Carlo thinks we’re such dirty-minded creatures, and maybe he’s right. Why don’t you say to Elena what you said to us, she’s about the purest girl in the world, if she finds it dirty you know it was a poor choice of words.”

  “I’m not that pure,” Elena protested, although she wasn’t entirely sure why she took it as an insult. Maybe it was Vittoria’s comment from a few weeks ago about her ‘possibly underage bum’.

  “Look, you see? She’s literally blushing at the very thought of being impure, you can’t have a more clean slate to test than that. Go ahead, Carlo,” Niccolo challenged, “share your horrible smutty thoughts with this beacon of innocence.”

  “I was just saying,” Carlo didn’t meet Elena’s eyes as he spoke, “that Cross hadn’t been beaten before, so she might have a grudge against you because you were the first person to get her coin, that’s it.”

  “That doesn’t sound dirty at all,” Elena said, confused.

  “Now tell her in the exact words you used,” Niccolo prodded.

  “I think I said something like ‘Elena was Cross’ first...” Carlo blushed furiously, and Vittoria and Vi began giggling again.

  “The words he actually used,” Nicci said, “were ‘I hope Cross doesn’t get as obsessed with Elena as I was with my first, you know how intense the first time can be’.”

  “Oh wow, Carlo,” Elena tried to hold back a laugh.

  “It didn’t sound so bad in my head...”

  “What’s in the box, Elena?” Despite the fact that she had been spending even more time with the full time garzoni over the past week, Elena still couldn’t tell the difference between Vittoria and Vi, but one of them turned to her to ask, still smiling.

  “Oh! That’s actually why I came out here in the first place!” Elena opened the box with a flourish. Carefully nestled inside was a set of brushes, each a light wood with little green swirls painted along their handles. “I know it’s not a huge surprise since I made a set of brushes for Carlo, but I made these f
or you, Vittoria.”

  She held the box out towards her best guess at the right girl. The pair exchanged a glance, and Vittoria kindly reached across and took the box from Elena.

  “They’re lovely, Elena, thank you,” she smiled.

  “I wish they were better,” Elena mumbled.

  “Frederica’s knives actually solved problems for her,” Ele explained, “but as far as we know you and Carlo weren’t having trouble with your old brushes...so it was a bit of a pointless project.” He gave Elena a look.

  “Nonsense, these are works of art in their own right,” Vittoria said. “Even if they weren’t, I like them more than my old brushes because they were a gift designed by a fellow teammate.”

  “You consider me a teammate?” Elena asked with surprise.

  “Of course! You’re by our side every day, you’re one of De Luca’s garzoni, why wouldn’t we consider you a teammate?”

  “Well...you could say the same of the other provisional garzoni, couldn’t you?”

  “I suppose I could call them teammates, in a way...” Vittoria said thoughtfully, “...but it’s so much easier to be around you when we don’t have to guard what we say.”

  “I didn’t know you considered us teammates...I-I don’t know what to say-” Elena stammered.

  “A teammate we still won’t be taking out to raid this week,” Niccolo cut in.

  “Even though I could help you?” Elena wheedled, “I could be the deciding factor some time, you never know! I did get a coin last time.”

  “Look at the little provisional, she gets one coin and suddenly she’s all full of herself!” Niccolo said. Elena stuck out her tongue at him, and he grinned. “You got a coin by accident, my favorite little Fabera, and your last little sojourn cost the studio far more than you gained.”

  “Which wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you hadn’t been so cloak and dagger about everything,” Elena grumbled, “I wouldn’t have smashed the arrows on the roof if I had known we were supposed to be all nice and friendly when we fought.”

  “I think technically they’re called ‘bolts’, not ‘arrows’.”

  “I know, I know, Cross told me.”

  “Well how do you like this?” Niccolo looked past her and raised his voice, “speak of the arrow-wielding devil!” Elena turned to door that led to the studio’s foyer and entrance to see where he was indicating.

  Cross looked younger without the green mask covering her upper face, perhaps due to her wide eyes or her thin eyebrows. The difference made Elena suddenly realize how much older the girl’s Echo was, seeing both the young blonde girl and the huge black man standing side by side. Cross held the handle of a low cart with wheels, on which sat a large chest. A large purple and black bruise adorned her right eye and half of her right cheek

  “I should go back to my work,” Vittoria quietly excused herself, and Carlo and Carla followed her and Vi without a word, but Niccolo and Nicci stayed.

  “I know you know the difference between arrows and bolts, Balance,” Cross folded her arms and frowned.

  “What, just because I carry a bow you think I’m supposed to know all the minutiae of every ranged weapon?”

  “No, just because you’re being annoying, I think you’re doing it on purpose. Also I just heard you telling the new girl that they’re bolts.”

  “She’s figured out my secret weapon, Cog, annoyance,” Niccolo grinned. Elena felt a thrill run down her spine when casually called her ‘Cog’. Master De Luca could say what he liked about it being melodramatic, Elena loved having a code-name.

  “You’re not going to bait me that easily,” Cross said.

  “Alright, alright,” Niccolo said, “you seem rather on-edge today Miss Cross.”

  “No, I don’t think ‘on-edge’ is the best phrase to use to describe Cross, Niccolo,” Nicci said.

  “No you’re right, she seems more...Cross seems agitated.”

  “Cross is grumpy, perhaps?”

  “Cross is annoyed?”

  “Cross is irritated?”

  “I get it,” Cross snapped, “I’m cross and my name is Cross, you’re definitely the first people to ever have made that joke. And if I seem irritated, it’s because I have to spend my Tuesday afternoon escorting a chest of coin away from our studio.”

  “A chest of coin?” Elena glanced from Cross to her Echo Bello, “why is Gritti giving us a chest of coin?”

  “Oh, and to top off the whole afternoon, the little new girl is here,” Cross glowered.

  “Cross, I’m sorry, I really didn’t know what was happening-”

  “You didn’t know how things worked, I know.” Cross folded her arms, “De Luca’s little marble boy explained things to us when he brought the coin. That doesn’t mean I was punished any less for losing the bolts. They’re worth a lot, and our studio doesn’t have that kind of money to burn.”

  “Master Gritti did that to you as punishment?” Elena gasped.

  “No,” Cross’ hand flew to her face, gingerly resting on the bruises for a moment, “Slug took the loss of his handcrafted bolts a little worse than Master Gritti did. He felt that Gritti’s punishment wasn’t quite enough to stick in my mind.”

  “If your studio is short on money, why exactly are you returning the fine De Luca paid?” Niccolo had grown uncharacteristically serious again, “and don’t tell me it was Slug.”

  “That was Master Gritti,” Cross said, “although partly due to Slug I suppose...but that’s none of your business. We don’t want the fine payment, we’re not accepting it, so just take it back and count yourselves richer and luckier. I wouldn’t even be here returning it if I wasn’t in the doghouse right now.”

  Now that she knew what the money was for, Elena took a second look at the chest. It was huge, large enough that she doubted Cross could’ve carried it if it hadn’t had wheels. The fact that De Luca had been willing to pay so much to make up for Elena’s reckless behavior worried at her stomach.

  “That’s how much the bolts were worth?” Ele muttered, clearly thinking the same thing she was, “I don’t care what they used instead of glass, De Luca was overpaying.”

  “The cost probably has more to do with what’s inside than the bolts themselves,” Niccolo answered quietly, “it’s hard to put a price on a Machinator’s work. It tends to be one-of-a-kind, so they can charge what they want. Especially if they’re full of themselves...Slug wouldn’t happen to have a large ego, would he?”

  “I already told you I’m not rising to your bait, Balance,” Cross said wearily, “I’m not telling you anything you could use against Slug, and I’m definitely not giving you any ammo to use to sow contention in our ranks. We don’t turn on each other that easy.”

  “If your eye is a sign of ‘not turning’, I’d hate to see the Gritti clan when they get contentious,” Niccolo paused for a few moments, allowing his words to sink in before he continued, “now if your Echo is done memorizing the layout of the courtyard, you’ve done what you needed to do and I think it’s time you left.”

  “Can’t blame a man for taking an opportunity when he’s offered,” Bello smiled without humor.

  “I defend from that window there,” Niccolo pointed, meeting and holding Bello’s gaze, “I’ll look forward to seeing you.”

  Bello grunted and turned to leave. Cross looked as if she was about to say something, but instead turned and wordlessly followed, and the gnawing in Elena’s stomach grew more pronounced.

  “This whole thing is all my fault,” she said quietly as the door closed behind Cross.

  “No Elena that’s not-” Niccolo began as Ele at the same time said “Don’t be silly, you-”

  “Stop, please just...just stop. If I wasn’t so reckless, if I had actually listened to Ele’s advice, then Cross wouldn’t have gotten in trouble or gotten hurt, De Luca wouldn’t have had to offer such a huge amount of money.”

  “Well as long as you’ve learned your lesson, namely that you should listen to my advic
e, you should be fine in the future,” Ele joked, but Elena wasn’t in the mood.

  “That doesn’t help Cross.”

  “Come on, Elena,” Niccolo said gently, “let’s get some lunch from the kitchens, I heard Cook in there and you know he’ll give you a sweet roll if you ask him, he loves you.”

  “I will,” Elena glanced towards the door of the courtyard, “but there’s something I have to do first. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Make sure you do,” Niccolo called after her as she ran for the door, “lord knows Cook won’t give me a sweet roll unless you’re there! I like sweet rolls!”

  “What are we doing?” Ele asked as the pair ran through the hallway and out into the street.

  “I can’t leave it like this. I have to make things right somehow,” Elena replied. She caught sight of Cross and Bello turning the corner, and ran again at a full tilt to catch up. “Cross!” She yelled, and the girl turned and frowned. Before she could say anything, Elena began rambling. “Cross, I meant what I said back there, I’m so sorry I got you in trouble with Master Gritti, and I’m so sorry I made Slug mad at you...I’m just sorry for everything.”

  “You didn’t do it on purpose, I get that,” Cross said begrudgingly. “You didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I meant or not, what matters is what happened. Here,” Elena dug through her pockets and brought out the coin, silver and engraved with the words “Cross, Year One, Studio Gritti” around the edge, an image of a stylized cross in the middle. “It’s not fair of me to keep this when I wasn’t playing by the rules.”

  “Do you know what that’s worth?” Despite her protests Cross accepted the coin, but she stared at the girl with a bewildered expression. “You didn’t know the rules when you took this, you couldn’t have played by them, why would you give me this?”

  “All the more reason it’s not fair of me to keep it,” Elena said awkwardly. She was suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands, and she stuffed them in her pockets to avoid thinking about it. “I don’t deserve it...I don’t care what it’s worth, I just want you to know how sorry I am.”