Varina ci’Pallo
VARINA?”
She was with Karl, and he looked so sad that she wanted to reach out and touch him, but whenever she stretched out her arm, he seemed to recede from her, just out of reach. She thought she heard someone calling her name, but now it was dark where she was, so dark she couldn’t even see Karl, and she was confused.
“Varina!”
With the near-shout, she came awake with a start, realizing that she was at her desk in the Numetodo House. Two glass globes sat on the table in front of her as she blinked into the lamplight. She could see a trail of saliva pooled on the desk’s surface, and she wiped at her mouth as she turned, embarrassed to be found this way. Especially to be found this way by Karl. “What?”
Karl stood next to her desk in the little room; the door was open behind him. He was peering down at her. “I called; you didn’t answer. I even shook you.” His eyes narrowed; she wasn’t sure if it was concern or anger, and she told herself that she didn’t really care which.
“I was working on the Westlander technique late last night. It exhausted me so much I must have fallen asleep.” She brushed her hair with her fingers, angry with herself for letting herself succumb to her weariness and angry with him for having caught her in this state.
Angry at both herself and him because neither of them had apologized for their words the last time, and now it was too late. The words still stood between them, like an invisible wall.
“Are you all right?” She could hear concern in his voice, and rather than satisfying her, it made her feel even more angry. “All this work, and these spells you’re attempting. Maybe you should—”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, cutting him off. “You don’t have to worry about me.” But she felt physically sick. Her mouth tasted of something moldy and horrible. Her bladder was too full. Her eyelids were so heavy that they might as well have iron weights attached to them, and her left eye didn’t seem to want to focus at all; she blinked again—that didn’t seem to help. She wondered if she looked as horrible as she felt. “What did you want?” she asked. The words seemed slightly slurred, as if her mouth and tongue didn’t want to cooperate. The left side of her whole face seemed to sag.
“I found him,” he said.
“Who?” she asked. She wiped at her left eye; his figure was still blurred. “Oh,” she said, realizing who he meant. “Your Westlander. Is he still alive?”
The words came out more harshly than she meant them to, and she saw him lift a shoulder, even if she couldn’t quite make out his expression. “Yes, but the man attacked me magically. Varina, he had spells stored in his walking stick.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” she said. “An object you can carry around with you each and every day, that no one would think a second time about . . .” She wiped at her eyes again; his face cleared somewhat. “Are you all right?” She realized the question was tardy; from his expression, so did he.
“Only because I managed to deflect the worst of it. The houses near me weren’t quite so lucky. He took off, but I know about where he lives—in Oldtown. His name’s Talis. He lives with a woman named Serafina, and there’s a young boy with them—his name’s Nico. It shouldn’t take long to find exactly where they live. I’ll ask Sergei to help me find them.” He seemed to sigh. “I thought . . . I thought you might be willing to help me.”
“Help you what?” she asked. “Do you know this Talis was responsible for Ana’s death?”
“No,” Karl admitted. “But I certainly suspect it. He attacked me as soon as I made the accusation. Called her his enemy, said he considered himself at war.” Karl’s lips pressed together grimly. “Varina, I don’t think Talis will let himself be caught without a fight. I’m going to need help, the kind of help the Numetodo can provide. We all saw what he could do in the temple, and a few Garde Kralji with swords and pikes aren’t going to help much. You . . . You’re the best asset we have.”
Yes, I’ll help you, she wanted to say, if only to see a smile brighten his face or to chip away at the wall between them. But she couldn’t. “I won’t go after someone you just suspect, Karl. I especially won’t do it when there’s potentially an innocent woman and a child involved. Sorry.”
She thought he’d be angry, but he only nodded, almost sadly, as if that was the answer he’d expected her to give. If it was, it still wasn’t enough for him to apologize. The wall seemed to grow taller in her mind. “I understand,” he said. “Varina, I want to—”
That was as far as he got. They both heard running footsteps in the corridor outside, and a panting Mika came to the open door. “Good,” he said. “You’re both here. There’s news. Bad news, I’m afraid. It’s the Regent. Sergei. The Council of Ca’ has ordered him to be taken. He’s in the Bastida.”
Nessantico Cycle #02 - A Magic of Nightfall
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