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.
Nico Morel
They snuggled together in the bed, and Nico kissed the slope of Liana’s shoulder, tasting the salt of her sweat. Her arms and her legs clutched him tightly, as if she wanted to hold him there forever, though he was held back by the surprising mound of her stomach. He laughed, stroking her hair and staring into her eyes. They were the color of rich earth after a rain, and he could see his own thin, bearded face reflected in them.
For a moment, his vision blurred and darkened, and it was as though there were a third person in the room with them: small and frail, a heart that could be heard above the pounding of his heart and Liana’s, and he thought he saw a form drifting away from them, leaving the room: a child’s form. A girl. He could feel the cold heat that he associated with Cenzi at the same moment. He closed his eyes, opened them again.
“Nico?” Liana asked him. She sounded worried. “You were so far away…”
Her arms had loosened around him. He tried to smile at her. “I’m sorry. It’s just…”
“What did you see?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Or rather, I don’t know.” He stroked Liana’s abdomen. “I thought I saw… her.”
“Her?”
Nico gave a small nod. “Her.” He tried to smile, but found it difficult. Something about the brief vision bothered him. Why was the child leaving? Why did she vanish? Why did he not see either himself or Liana in the vision?
“A girl.”
Liana was suddenly weeping, but it was a cry of joy. She flung herself at him, her arms going around his neck as she kissed him. “A girl. Are you happy?” she asked. “Is that what you wanted?”
“No,” he said, then laughed at the face she made. “I mean, it doesn’t matter at all to me. Son or a daughter. All that matters is that the child is ours.” He gestured at the shabby room around them, another in the sequence of houses they’d fled to in Oldtown. “I have so little to offer you,” he said, and now it was Liana who laughed.
“Do you think that’s of any consequence to me?” she told him. “If you do, then Cenzi didn’t tell you everything.” Her arms gathered him to her again. “You offer me all that I want. I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy,” she whispered into his ear. “That’s all.”
“And I am,” he told her. “Liana, we should marry. I will ask Ancel-”
She surprised him then. “No,” she told him, shaking her head. Her hair drifted around her shoulders with the motion. “We should not.”
“Liana?”
She leaned back slightly, still holding him. Her gaze was serious and unblinking. “I know you love me, Nico. I know because you would never lie-not to me, not to anyone. You’ve no guile in you at all. I’m content with your love. And it may be that the Absolute-especially if he becomes what I believe Cenzi intends him to become-may need to marry someone for reasons other than love. He may have to do as the Archigi have done before, and marry to keep the Faith safe.”
He was shaking his head, but he could hear Cenzi inside his head: a deep, low approval, and he knew that she was right. Marriage could wait; it made no difference to his commitment to Liana or their child.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said to her, and she laughed.
“Perhaps not, but you have me, Nico, and I don’t intend to let you go.”
There were a half dozen of the war-teni of Nessantico gathered in the room, as well as a double-handful of the other teni from the city’s three temples. Most of them were young, most of them were e’teni, though a few,
