A Student's Dream (Twisted Cogs Book 1)

by Hemmings, Malcolm

  Her Storm buzzed in her temples and fingertips, the reminder of her failure an insult added to the injury of having to leave the Studio. The bread was made with oregano, tarragon and rosemary, little bits of sausage baked inside and garlicky butter melted across the top. For it to be this warm, it would’ve had to be baked less than an hour ago, fresh from the oven. There was no way it had accidentally been made for supper. Stepping forward and carefully holding the bread away at a safe angle, she pressed the large man into a hug. He squeezed her back, tightly, then stepped away and cleared his throat.

  “We will miss little garzona. Jakob, he crying, like baby. But I will miss as well.”

  “I’m going to miss you too, Cook,” Elena had thus far been handling herself well, helped along by the feeling that it was all unreal, but it was hard to pretend to herself that the large man standing in front of her, twisting the end of his apron nervously and blinking rapidly, wasn’t real.

  “Well. I must go back to kitchens now, much to prepare. We will... I would say for you to have the luck, but...you will have luck. Goodbye, little Elena.”

  “Goodbye, Cook.” Elena’s vision was blurry as she watched him walk away, and she wiped her eyes on the hem of her sleeve.

  “I didn’t realize the two of you were so close,” Niccolo said, “I spent some time in the kitchens, but I don’t think we ever got along that well.”

  “To be fair, you were pretty lazy when you worked in the kitchens,” Nicci pointed out.

  “He’s a good man, he and Jakob both are,” Elena sniffed.

  “Don’t say anything. Don’t say a single word,” Frederica’s voice wasn’t particularly loud, but it broke across the courtyard with fervor that was startling. Elena turned to find the Caelator striding towards her, looking angry and tired. Elena opened her mouth to speak, but Frederica held up a finger and she paused. “I mean it,” Frederica snapped. “I don’t like it when people say goodbye and get weepy and distressed. I had about enough of that when I left home, I don’t need more of it now that I’m here. Here.” She thrust a small box into Elena’s hands.

  “Thank you-” Elena began, but quieted again at the look Frederica gave her. She carefully unlatched the box and opened the lid. Sitting within, nestled in a little layer of white cloth, lay a small ermine carved from maple wood, about the length of Elena’s hand. It looked up at her and blinked little wooden eyes, cocking its head to one side with interest. “Dio carino peloso meo,” Elena gasped, staying silent forgotten in the face of the tiny creature.

  “Her name is Frell,” Frederica said as if issuing a challenge, “I stayed up all night to make sure it was done. Making something for Vittoria and Carlo too, but I didn’t know if you were leaving Milia or not.” Frell yawned and stretched tiny paws, then scampered up Elena’s arm to sit on her shoulder. Elena was so delighted that she almost dropped the box. The detail in the ermine’s face made her look clever and curious, and its movements were smooth and lifelike.

  “She’s beautiful,” Elena breathed, “she’s so pretty!”

  “How many of those did you have to make?” Niccolo asked.

  “About a couple more than ‘none of your business’,” Frederica replied. “Are you leaving Milia, Elena? No one I’ve talked to knows.”

  “Even I don’t know yet,” Elena dragged her attention away from Frell. “I want to send a letter to my mama, and see what she thinks. Now that I know I won’t be a De Luca garzona, I don’t...I don’t really know what to do with myself.”

  “What about all of those plans you came up with the first time you didn’t get in?” Ele broke in. “What about starting up a mercantile shop? Apprenticing with some other craftsman?”

  “Just because you’re not a De Luca garzona doesn’t mean you can’t become a very successful Fabera, Elena,” Niccolo had been carrying her large bag for her, containing all of her possessions which amounted to a few changes of clothes and a little bit of money, but he set it down now. “The other studios usually leap at the chance to get De Luca students, even when they don’t make it through to become full garzoni.”

  Even though he had put it gently, Elena winced.

  Failures, you mean.

  “I...I really don’t know what I’m doing yet,” she repeated. “I just need to spend a day or two at the inn, and then when I hear back from my mama I’ll know-”

  “What has Joanna ever done to help you that wasn’t also helping her?” Ele demanded angrily.

  “Ele please, please not this discussion. We haven’t had this fight for months, I don’t need you disparaging my mother at a time when I really need her help.”

  “You don’t need your mother’s help, and the past two months have proved it! How much money has your mother made from you, selling all of your crafts over the years?”

  Elena pressed her knuckles to the bridge of her nose, feeling so overwhelmed that she could barely think. Frell nudged at her from her shoulder, and Elena let the creature nuzzle at her cheek while she tried to unwind all of the pieces in her mind.

  “I’ve been in the care of De Luca, the past couple of months,” she finally responded, “without mama or De Luca I don’t even...I don’t know how to be. I need her advice, I’m going to get her advice, that’s the last I’m going to talk about it.”

  “At least look at the other studios. It’s not that different from what you wanted before, at least see what they have to offer.”

  “I’m writing to my mother.”

  “Someday, at some point, I hold out hope that you’ll actually listen to my advice,” Ele said through clenched teeth.

  “I am listening to you, and I’ll look at the other studios, but first I’m going to write to my mother.”

  “When my advice is to make the choice without your mother’s input, writing to her is not listening.”

  “My mother has helped me, she deserves the right to give me advice.”

  “I’VE HELPED YOU!” Ele yelled. Elena flinched, and immediately clenched her own teeth, her hands balling into fists at his outburst. As if picking up on her anger, Ele grew quieter, although his eyes still flashed. “Every step of your life here in Milia I’ve helped you. Every decision, every project, I’ve been by your side, and I’ve not steered you wrong once. You’ve ignored my advice time and time again, refusing to see reason, refusing to learn that maybe you should listen to me just once, even when ignoring my advice results in disaster.”

  “I’m sorry that I’m so stupid that I can’t make smart decisions on my own,” Elena said bitterly, “but every ‘disaster’ here has been the result of someone else, or pure bad luck! I’d like to hear one example where your precious oh-so-wise advice would’ve prevented a disaster!”

  “Maybe if you had listened to me, you would’ve had time to figure out your Storm and not get kicked out of the studio!”

  Elena took an involuntary step back, as if he had slapped her in the face. The courtyard rang in the silence that followed Ele’s retort, his voice reverberating on the marble tiles. Elena’s mind spun as even the echoes of the Echo died away, leaving them in complete silence. She couldn’t even begin to formulate a response, her throat locked with grief and anger and betrayal.

  “Listen, you two-” Niccolo began.

  “Niccolo, Frederica, there you are!” Pietro bustled across the frosty floor of the courtyard, a small stack of papers in his hand. “Master De Luca would like to see all of the full garzoni in his office, if you would be so kind.” The marble boy gave a polite nod in Elena’s direction, but didn’t seem overly friendly.

  “Are you going to be okay? Where can I find you, after this meeting is over?” Niccolo rested a hand on Elena’s shoulder, and although it was comforting she could barely process what he was saying through the haze of anger.

  “The...I’ll be at the Inn of Gold,” she finally stammered, “I stayed there with my mother when we first arrived in Milia.”

  “The Inn of Gold, I’ll remember. Hang in there Elena, it’s going to be
alright, I promise you.” Niccolo leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead, and for the half-second Elena was able to forget the anger rage and hurt that threatened to overwhelm her.

  ***

  Elena had never been reminded so much of her old life as she was on the walk to the Inn of Gold from De Luca’s studio. She kept her gaze locked forward, pretending that Ele wasn’t walking a few steps behind her, trying to think of how best she could phrase her situation to her mother so that Joanna wouldn’t be angry at her. No way was perfect, of course, but if she could word her failure just right, she might avoid a particularly harsh punishment.

  The entire way to the Inn, Elena half-hoped that Ele would say something, just so that she could make a point of not answering or responding. For his part he stayed silent, and whenever she stole a glance at him he seemed more interested in staring at the ground a little ways in front of his feet.

  Halfway between the studio and the Inn, Elena noticed Cross sitting in one of the streetside cafes, dressed in the green-and-white of Gritti’s studio. The gazes of the two Stormtouched met, and Cross’ eyes widened in recognition, but Elena ducked into an alleyway before the other girl could get up from her chair. She didn’t have the mental or emotional energy to deal with being yelled at for Slug’s death, and if she could avoid interacting with any of the garzoni of any studio she would. Ele opened his mouth as if to say something, but remained quiet.

  I don’t want to interact with anyone, Elena thought, as they reached the small inn which somehow seemed even smaller than the last time she had been inside it. I don’t want to do anything, or talk to anyone.

  She paid for the room and went straight up the stairs, closing the door in Ele’s face and locking it as he silently walked through the wood. The room had a single desk with paper and ink, enough to begin writing the letter to her mother, but instead Elena threw herself onto the bed, clamping her eyes shut and trying to pretend that the past few days were only a bad dream.

  None of it happened. None of it was real. Today feels like a dream because it was, that’s all it was, she repeated to herself.

  When she opened her eyes, blue light shone through the cracks in her puzzle-piece skin.

  Chapter XL

  Twisted Dreams

  The small, dark hallway was lit by a blue glow that emanated from Elena’s skin. The outlines of the puzzle pieces were eerie, and gave Elena the feeling that she might fall apart if she moved too quickly or accidentally bumped into something. The hallway was long but narrow, dark enough that she couldn’t make out any of its features, and it was the first time she’d arrived at the dreamworld without someone there to meet her. Ele sat beside her, taking in their surroundings and looking at the pattern of light that shone through the cracks in her skin with interest. The weight of exhaustion Elena had felt when awake was gone now, and she seemed to be much less angry at him without it, but out of stubbornness or principle she turned away from him.

  A few doors were scattered along both walls of the hall, and Elena picked the one closest to her and stepped through. She held the door open for Ele, feeling just a twinge of guilt for the way she had treated him.

  The door led out onto a balcony made of pale blue stone with moss growing between the cracks. Empty chairs and a large wooden table lay on one side of the balcony, and all along the railings grew ivy with little twists of pale pink and lavender flowers. In the night sky hung a colossal full moon, one that should’ve been blindingly bright but instead gave off just enough illumination to bathe the balcony in moonlight. The air was warmer than it was in Milia, just a little too hot for comfort but with a cool breeze that made it perfect.

  “Twisted Dreamer sure knows how to make himself a world,” Ele put his hands in his pockets, craning his neck to look up at the stars which shone bright in multiple colours overhead.

  “I always thought of him as ‘Black Furs’,” Elena said, before remembering that she wasn’t speaking to him. Now that she had broken her silence, she continued, “I wonder how he does this all? What kind of Storm lets you share your dreams?”

  “He’s probably a Machinator who build some kind of dream machine,” Ele said. “What I wonder is how far the dream goes. Does he do the landscapes as well? What’s the view like from up here?” The pair walked towards the railing in concert, leaning over to look down at ground far beneath them.

  “Dio mio,” Elena breathed.

  There was no ground beneath them. The tower that they stood upon was many stories high, the highest that Elena had ever seen, but at its base where it should’ve connected to the ground there was instead a...something. At first glance it simply looked like a field of angry grey thunderclouds, but upon closer inspection Elena couldn’t help but feel as if there was a mass there, just beneath the clouds, something with enough presence and weight that she could sense it even as far above it as she was.

  Arcs of lightning flashed beneath the surface of it, in strange symbolic patterns that looked more like design than like random chance. The sight of the roiling clouds made Elena feel uneasy for some reason, as if it were watching her. She turned her gaze back towards the sky, reveling in the beauty instead of the eerie scene below.

  “You seem a little more relaxed, here,” Ele commented, somewhat cautiously. Elena took mental stock, looking around her at the other tower spires she could see from the balcony.

  “It’s a little harder to think here,” she said finally, “everything is a little bit fuzzy and a little bit more dim around the edges. It’s a nice feeling, when everything outside is so frightening and stressful.”

  “For me it’s the opposite,” Ele furrowed his brow, his gaze locked on the clouds far beneath them. “This place sets my teeth on edge. But I am glad it’s having this effect on you. You could use some time where you’re less stressed.”

  “I’m sorry for not listening to you,” Elena said quietly. “It’s not because I don’t care about you, you know.”

  “I know. It’s because you’re impulsive and stubborn and think you know everything,” Ele grinned to show he was joking. “And I’m sorry I scolded you. It can just be frustrating, not being able to help. I think the two of us make a pretty good team, when we work together.”

  “We do. I promise, I’ll try to take your advice into account when making decisions in the future.”

  “I would appreciate that.” The silence between the two was much more comfortable after that, Elena trying to look for familiar constellations in the colorful stars, Ele staring off into the grey clouds as if lost in thought. “I wonder where the Twisted are,” Ele finally said, “didn’t you say there were always around as soon as you fell asleep?”

  “They have been...but I’ve only met with them twice so far,” Elena said, “I don’t know how this whole thing works. I don’t mind waiting for them. If I can enjoy this place for a few hours while I nap, I can think about what to do without too much stress going along with it.”

  “I thought you’d already decided you were waiting for your mother to tell you what to do.” Ele’s voice was a little bitter, but Elena ignored it.

  “I said I would listen to your advice, and I meant it,” she said. “If you have a plan of action, we can try it, and I’ll just write my mother to tell her we were expelled from Studio De Luca. I won’t leave her in the dark, but I’ll listen to your advice, is that an acceptable compromise?”

  “I would be alright with that,” Ele smiled. “I was thinking we could apply to other Studios. Spending any time in De Luca’s will make you more attractive to other studios, I think, and we can still learn a lot, even in other studios. Who knows, we might find one with another Faberi who can mentor you.”

  “I can do that,” Elena said cautiously, “but I don’t want to apply to Studio Gritti. Not after what happened to Slug.” Just thinking about the venomous Machinator made her feel uneasy, and she glanced over her shoulder.

  “Alright. We’ve probably missed our window for today, but that’s fine. After you wak
e up, you can get something to eat, we can try to build something in our room, and bright and early tomorrow morning we’ll set out to the other studios.”

  “We don’t know how time works, here,” Elena pointed out, “sometimes in a dream hours and hours pass when only minutes pass in real life, or the other way ‘round. It might be that I’ve only been sleeping for twenty minutes, and when I wake up it’ll still be in the afternoon.”

  “No,” the voice was muted and neutral, but Elena hadn’t been expecting it so close, and she jumped. Standing next to her, just barely tall enough to rest her arms on the railing, the little girl with hair made of gold looked up at the moon. “You must’ve slept through the evening,” she continued, ignoring Elena’s reaction, “because I didn’t go to bed until eleven of the clock. It’s definitely night time.”

  “I didn’t hear you arrive,” Elena said, her heart still racing.

  “No,” the golden-haired girl agreed, “you didn’t.”

  “It’s...it’s nice to see you again,” Elena ventured, feeling a bit foolish.

  “The others prefer that I do not lie to you, so I won’t say the same.”

  “Oh.” Elena lapsed into an awkward silence.

  “What did we do to make you dislike us so much?” Ele asked.

  “Do?” the girl with golden hair finally turned towards them, tilting her head. Now that she was close, Elena could see that her eyes were made of gold as well, pupilless and smooth. It was impossible to tell if she was looking at Ele or Elena, but her comment seemed to be directed at both of them. “You did nothing. I simply have no reason to trust you. My companions seem to believe that just because you are Twisted, you are necessarily trustworthy. I have been harmed enough to know that harm may come from all angles, from any direction.”

  Elena wasn’t quite sure how to take the girl’s stance. It was even more paranoid than Ele’s way of thinking, and it was so out of Elena’s experience that she couldn’t quite figure it out. It seemed sad that a child could be so cynical.