I busily look at the desk manual while perking my ears to eavesdrop.
She says, “I haven’t. If she survives the week, she’ll go back for nine more rounds. Maybe some rings as well if she does particularly well.”
“Either way, she just looks like—she’s… It’s a good look for an apprentice, isn’t it?”
“I don’t find your stammering to be measurably kinder. Just get to your seat.” Mistress Vincenza marches away into the back hallway.
I take the opportunity to intercept Piero. “Hey! Hi. You’re Mistress Vincenza’s friend?”
“Brother. But nice to speak with you… Catarina?”
“Yes, Catarina. She… told you? Wait—“ I blink. “Didn’t you say ‘my mother’ to her at some point?”
“Half, technically. And of course she told me about you; I made her.” He leans on a shelf, rocking it with his laughter.
“So, um…”
This is a lot harder now that they’re related.
I force my tongue to continue, “am I safe? As her apprentice?”
“Mostly. You won’t die.”
“Her last apprentice did.”
His whole body freezes, face going pale.
“I’m sorry! I don’t… Should I not have said that? I don’t know anything about them except that they died and that nobody else wanted to work here and that I’m terrified.”
“...You didn’t know. It’s fine.” He sighs, still uncomfortable. “It was a cancer of the lung.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” He takes a tentative step away. “Don’t invoke the subject with her. And… not me either. It was nice to see you, Catarina.”
“Okay. It—Glad to say hi, Piero.”
Chapter 6
Smoke and Memories
I’ve always lived upwind ofthosefactories. Never smoked. Never even went near something vaguely dusty. Those are jobs for corpses, after all.
But for the last few days, I’ve been watching and feeling each breath. Every little cough became a suspicion—an incorrect suspicion, but a suspicion.
The place is old enough to have its asbestos laced walls crumbling. Non-electric, personal cars sometimes pass by in the streets. The ventilation is poor. And the books are even slightly dusty! All so many ways for me to invent a lung disease.
Yet, those inventions are excuses. I’m not supposed to think about Mistress Vincenza’s last apprentice—I might accidentally bring them up—so I think obsessively over anything else I can.
I put downDialectical Necromancy,reaching for the phone and ringing my mother just to talk to someone who won’t remind me of the dead.
The operator music slowly hums away into my mother’s voice. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mom. Just me.”
“Catie! Where in the Ring have you been? One call is not enough for you to disappear!“ she yells.
“I f-forgot. Sorry. Anyway, I’m coming by in a few hours to grab my stuff. You can make me food orsomething.”
