A Student's Dream (Twisted Cogs Book 1) (9 page)

“
The kitchens are cooler than I remember them being in the tour,” Elena said.

“
Well, it
is
the morning. They probably heat up over the course of the day.”

Elena and Ele stood in the doorway, watching the coordinated chaos of the two cooks within. One of them was very large and bald, the other thin and elderly, but the two of them moved quickly and efficiently around the kitchen. Behind them, the pale girl who had volunteered and her Echo watched over their shoulders.

“
You’ve been here before? I thought you only got here today,” she said.

Before either of them could answer, the fat cook pointed a wire whisk at the group in the door. “Which of you is garzona who help us for next few months?”

“
That’s me,” Elena replied, “and this is...Leanarda, right?”

“
Leanarda and Leo,” Leanarda nodded.

“
We never learn names until the provisionals leave,” the cook briskly passed them two small wooden bowls and a glass bottle of cream. “Whip until is foam. Whisks on wall behind you. Please to stay out of underfoot.”

Elena couldn’t quite place the cook’s accent, but his instructions were at least clear. Elena and Leanarda found small stools in the corner, split the cream between them, and began whisking. Ele leaned against the wall with his arms folded, watching the kitchen, and as if taking his cue Leanarda’s Echo waited in silence as well, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Leanarda.

The two cooks moved with the ease of dancers, and Elena was so fascinated watching them that she had to remind herself to keep whisking. Despite their complete differences they coordinated as if they had practiced for years.

They ducked around each other, passing items and mixing ingredients. At one point the fat man tossed a heavy cast-iron skillet across the room without a word of warning, and the older cook snatched it from the air and placed it on the stone stovetop.

“
You said your name was Elena?” Leanarda prodded.

“
Oh, yes I’m Elena and this is Ele. Thank you for helping me today, by the way. I know you didn’t have to do that.”

“
It’s alright, it was an excuse to get out of that room. We don’t really have anything to do yet, so the three of us provisional garzoni were just sort of sitting around awkwardly. Besides, it can’t hurt to help out a fellow garzona,” Leanarda flashed a quick smile.

“
I got the impression that most of our fellow garzoni would disagree,” Elena murmured, “the full garzoni all seemed a little...moody, didn’t they? Like they were angry at me.”

“
Can you blame them? Four of us are going to be turned out into the streets in a few months, that doesn’t exactly engender a helpful community spirit.”

“
Isn’t this place supposed to be about art? About learning to make things of beauty?”

“
We can’t learn if we’re not here. When it comes down to it, one more garzona means one more person they have to fight to keep their place.”

“
But I don’t want to fight anyone!”

“
They’ll fight you, though.” They had been talking quietly, but Leanarda lowered her voice further, “listen, Elena, I know you have to have dreams of being a wonderful Artifex or Caelator or...” she paused to let Elena supply the word, but Elena blushed and kept silent. Pietro’s attitude had told her what people thought of Fabera. After a moment, Leanarda continued, “the rest dream too. If they have to take you down to reach their dreams they’re not going to play nice, they’ll do it in an instant.”

“
Why are you telling us this?” Ele challenged. “If you’re so sure it’ll be ruthless here then why warn us?”

“
Because maybe fighting isn’t the best way to get ahead,” Leanarda said carefully, “instead of tearing each other down, a few of us could work together to lift each other up. I’ve tried the ‘enemies’ thing, allies is easier.”

Elena considered the implied offer for a few minutes, while Leanarda lapsed into silence. She hated that her simple presence in the studio had earned her seven new rivals, and she couldn’t deny the appeal of...what exactly? Friends? Allies?

“
Right now you’re wondering whether or not you can trust me,” Leanarda guessed.

“
Sort of. I guess I’m wondering what exactly you’re offering here.”

“
Nothing sinister. I get the feeling there are going to be a lot of opportunities to screw each other over while we’re here. You and I could agree to not take those opportunities. Maybe keep other people from taking those opportunities.”

“
I think that’s the strangest way I’ve ever been asked to be friends.”

Leanarda grinned.

“
I’m
wondering whether or not we can trust you,” Ele broke in, “you were a supplicant, this is your first day here, but you seem to have given this an awful lot of thought. No offense intended, but it makes you sound a little manipulative.”

“
I
am
a little manipulative,” Leanarda leaned forward so she could address both Elena and Ele. “A lot manipulative. I’m also a little egotistical, too prideful, and I hold grudges for longer than is healthy. But I don’t try to deny who I am, and I don’t lie to get what I want when the truth will work.”

“
And you think the truth will work here?”

“
Elena doesn’t seem like the type of girl who would like the nastiness of tearing people down. Maybe I’m wrong about her, but if I’m not, it means they’re going to eat her alive. I’m offering her a...an alliance, I guess. She doesn’t need to play nasty, and I’ll look out for her. All I’m asking is that she watches my back in return.”

“
I would do that for you without the speech,” Elena broke in, “who wouldn’t speak up if they saw someone doing something nasty? You didn’t need to convince me to look out for you, all you needed to do was ask.”

Leanarda stared at her for a moment, clearly dumbfounded.

“
Well if that’s the case, I’m glad I got to you first,” she muttered, turning back to her bowl, “you’ll
need
someone looking after you with that kind of naive attitude.”

“
Is good for now. Tomorrow you will make more help, today you take easy.” The older cook was suddenly in front of them, taking the wooden bowls out of their hands. Elena hadn’t even noticed that she had whipped her cream into stiff foamy peaks. “You go wash, meet others at table. Master De Luca does not like for garzoni being late.”

***

“
I don’t like that woman.” Ele had been silent after Leanarda and Elena parted ways to wash up, but he broke the silence with a sour expression.

“
Are you back to being all moody?” Elena looked up from the washbasin for a towel, and Ele pointed.

“
It’s not ‘moodiness’, it’s caution. You’re always so trusting of everyone, and I’m the one who has to keep an eye out.”

“
Paranoid.”

“
You say I’m paranoid, but every time you ignore my advice something bad happens. Remember when I told you not to bring up that Christmas gift from the neighbor boy in front of your mother?”

“
Let’s not talk about Pasaulo,” Elena mumbled, her stomach lurching at the memory, “do you remember where the dining room is?”

Ele led the way, still talking. He spoke quietly, clearly trying to get used to the thought that others might be listening now.

“
I’m always wary of people who have to tell you upfront how trustworthy or untrustworthy they are. I’m also nervous around people who feel the need to point out how much you need them. There are a bunch of reasons I don’t like Leanarda, and allying with her makes me worry for you.”

“
What is there to worry about?” Elena couldn’t seem to muster up half the amount of concern that Ele had. The huge windows that lined one wall of the hallway were letting the morning’s light in, casting blues and whites onto the walls, and the fresh air filled her lungs. Despite the hard road ahead of her, she was a garzona to Bernardo De Luca, at least for now. She was on her way to everything she had wanted, and who knew...maybe in five years’ time she would be a part of the Milian Court, making art for the Prince of Milia himself.

“
Elena, you’re daydreaming! Have you not been listening to a word I’ve been saying?”

“
I mean, so what if you don’t trust her? I wasn’t planning on doing anything nasty, not to anyone. So all this means is that she
knows
I won’t do anything nasty, and I don’t have to change my plan at all.”

“
Maybe knowing that is enough to take advantage of you,” Ele said darkly. “Even Leanarda thinks you’re being naive.”

“
Are you sure you just don’t like her because she’s so much like you, Ele?” Elena teased, “maybe you’re jealous because you’re not the only one who wants to look out for me anymore.”

“
Fatuus.
The dining room was through here.”

Somewhere in the studio, a bell began chiming the hour as Elena swung the heavy door open. The room was dominated by two long tables of a dark wood; at one table sat the garzoni with Master De Luca at the head, at the other Bea presided over the Echoes. Every single seat was occupied except for Elena’s and Ele’s.

“
Don’t worry, you haven’t officially arrived late,” Master De Luca said over the bell chimes with a friendly smile, “my timepieces are exact. Which means you have until the clock has finished ringing.” Although his smile didn’t change, the entire room seemed to drop by a few degrees, and Elena hurried to her seat, sitting down just as the last stroke of the bell ended.

“
I have so little time with my garzoni,” Master De Luca spoke as if he were beginning a speech, each word clear and crisp. The cooks entered with large wooden platters filled with eggs and ham, and loaves of bread so fresh that they still steamed as he continued. “My work in the Milian court takes me away from my little studio for weeks at a time, and when I return all of the work that has accumulated takes up my attention. I probably interact less with my garzoni than any other master in this city.”

He seemed a little sad, staring at his plate as the cooks served him. Frederica, Carlo, Vittoria and Niccolo, the four garzoni who had been in the studio for some time, began digging into their food with relish, and the new garzoni hesitantly followed their example.

“
Please, eat, I don’t worry about manners here,” Master De Luca came out of his stupor with a weary wave, “in the studio, meals are the only place we care more about function than form.” The smell of the eggs and ham made Elena’s stomach queasy, and she regretted the fruit wine from the night before, but she couldn’t deny she was hungry. “Miss Lucciano, you in particular will enjoy the hot drink,” De Luca lifted his own small wooden cup in indication, “it’s quite good for the morning after a night of drunkenness.”

The excitement Elena felt that he remembered her name was quickly squashed by shame. The other garzoni were all focused on her, and she looked down at her plate, preferring to imagine their looks of contempt rather than face them.

“
Master De Luca, doesn’t the studio have very strict rules on drinking?” Elena would’ve thought Frederica was asking the question innocently, if not for the glare that accompanied the brunette’s expression. It was quite clear that she knew exactly what the rules were, and she resented Elena for breaking them.

Note to self, Frederica is not my friend,
Elena thought. If what Leanarda had said was true and there really were garzoni out to get her, she would have to start keeping track of who was who. She glanced at the other table, trying to identify which Echo belonged to Frederica. The man at the Echo’s table looked so similar to her that they might’ve been siblings, and his frown matched his Stormtouched’s.

“
Yes, very strict rules,” Master De Luca agreed, “but I’m sure little Elena will have more control of herself now that she is one of us. Mella, I must say that in my long life I have never encountered an Artifex who used your particular medium. What was it you called your tools?” The topic change was jarring, as if the Master had suddenly lost interest in Elena and moved on to his next target.

“
Pencil, Master De Luca. It’s like charcoal in many ways, but I have more control over the finer lines,” Mella gulped down a mouthful of food to answer. She sat across from Elena, and her shocks of red hair bounced whenever she moved her head, “I haven’t met any other Artifexes like me either, that probably makes me more valuable.” Mella managed an expression halfway between hope and terror, and Master De Luca smiled back in response.

“
It’s a good talent, to know your own worth,” he nodded, “I’ve had garzoni in the past who steadfastly refused to acknowledge their value, and there are few things more frustrating.”

“
What’s wrong with a student who doesn’t know their own worth?” Elena asked. The rest of the garzoni were silent, but if was true that Master De Luca had so little time, Elena wanted to take advantage of all that she could. The Master didn’t seem to mind.