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When Mr. Scrimm and Hanich arrived back at the Kitchen, the dishes had been washed and dried and put back in their places. The kitchen was clean and quiet. Hanich found no further work to do, so there was nothing more than to return to the nook on the side of the fireplace where his bedroll awaited. It had been a good day, he thought, he had worked harder than he’d ever been allowed to, and also managed to help someone when she was definitely in need.
Miss Sonya had been quite pleased as she returned a third of her pots back to their shelf, and the Constables had sent messengers to the Downtown area so constables there would meet the airship as it arrived. They were confident the remainder of her pilfered pots would find their way back to her shop within a day or two.
He walked back through the dining room, and found Mira sitting at the edge of the table, across from an untouched plate of food which happened to include one of the cookies from earlier in the day.
“Hanich, sit and eat,” she said.
He sat, taking a covert glance at her face. He did not want to embarrass her, but he could not help but look at the girl with the china face. Hanich had wondered at the cause of such an appliance throughout the day, each of his imaginings more exotic than the last. In the end he had no clue.
“Thank you Mira,” he said as he sat down. Even though the food was not warm, it was as delicious as it had smelled all evening, perhaps all the more for the amount of work he had done. “Will we do this again tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow has trouble enough on its own,” she said. Mira seemed far away at the moment, looking off to the wall but really not seeing it.
“Huh?” Hanich asked as he took a bite of bread.
“We will, but tomorrow is an open meal,” she said, returning to the here and now. “Their meal is only on Thursday. That was the league of red-eyed gentlemen and their families. They were once miners in the illuminatanium mines.”
“That’s what made their eyes glow red?” he asked.
“It is,” Mira said. “The mining company discharges them once their eyes turn. They gain sight beyond that of ordinary people, but they cannot gaze too long at any one thing. If they stare too long at something it lights itself on fire. It is not a good situation in a mine.”
“It came in handy tonight,” Hanich said, but thought about it for a moment. There were many circumstances where such ability would be a disadvantage. “But I can see how it could bring about some difficulties.”
“Yes,” Mira said with a slight smile. “If you were so afflicted you would have scorched my face by now.”
“I can’t help but look,” Hanich said. “The decoration on your face is beautiful. I've never seen anything like it.”
Mira looked down, for some reason she did not seem to appreciate that answer. Hanich managed to look contrite, even as he continued to eat. It made little sense to him, why would she wear something and not want anyone to notice it?
“Mr. Scrimm is the one who constructed those glasses for them,” Mira said, continuing on her former conversation. “Between finding the right material and then finding which tinting worked best, it took near a year to work it out. It helps them not to burn everything they look at.”
“And the glasses hide the glow except at night,” Hanich said. “It's very smart. They all call him professor.”
“He was once,” Mira said. “He still dabbles in the sciences; he has a laboratory in the building. Often he is the one to find solutions for problems, like those experienced by those men.”
“But the mine still won’t hire them back,” Hanich said. It was not a question, it was obvious.
“You should be prepared,” she continued. “What we do is important, but it is not always easy, and not always as effective as we would like.”
“Okay,” he said, gulping down a potato.
“The Academia is an epicenter for the most extraordinary events,” she said. “No one knows why. People come to us, some of them with the most unusual problems. Mr. Scrimm tries to help them, he finds the best cures or solutions for them, and if he cannot…”
“He gives them what comfort he can,” Hanich said. “I like that. It seems I have come to be an apprentice in a most unusual place.”
Mira smiled slightly and looked up at him.
“Hanich,” she said. “You are not meant exclusively to be an apprentice here.”
She stood and walked toward the kitchen.
“What do you mean?” Hanich asked.
Mira stopped at the door, holding it open. She looked back at him.
“I think I will call you Itch,” Mira said. “It suits you. You’re a bother, but you’re not very big.”
Extraordinary Circumstances: 1 The League of Red-Eyed Gentlemen Page 5
