A Magic of Nightfall

Varina ci’Pallo

Had she been forced into a career as a spy, she would have been captured and executed her first day.

Varina leaned against the side of an apothecary at the edge of Oldtown Center, staring out at the crowds gathered in bright sunshine and searching among them for a familiar face, one that she’d lost in the twists and turns of Oldtown. She was panting a little from the effort of trying to catch up to the man after he’d made an abrupt turn-she’d come to the corner to find him gone. Vanished.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The question, coming from behind her, made Varina jump. Varina spun, bringing her hands up, ready to speak a word and release a quick push spell, but a hand grasped her arm as she turned, stopping her from casting the spell, and she was looking into the face for which she’d been searching.

“Karl…”

He released her hand, stepping back. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. “You were following me.” His storm-sea eyes held her.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Why?”

“Because I’m worried about you.”

He sniffed as if amused. That irritated her more than his expression. “You, or Mika?” he barked. “Or maybe Sergei?”

She held his stare defiantly, her chin lifting. She brushed back her hair from her face. “All of us. Everyone who knows you and likes you is concerned about you, Karl, even though you don’t seem to see it. Following you was my idea, though. Not Mika’s. Not Sergei’s. So you can yell at me if you’d like, but not them. They didn’t know.”

“I’m not a child who needs to be watched.”

“Forgive me,” she told him. “I’ll be sure to mention that to Sergei and Ambassador cu’Gorin. They’ll both be pleased to hear how you’ve matured.”

Karl sniffed again. “That was a mistake. I won’t repeat it.”

“Karl, you were convinced that it was the Firenzcians and you were ready to be judge and executioner for them. Now you’re just as convinced it’s a Westlander plot and you’re out chasing Mahri’s ghost. I’m worried about you, yes. Mahri’s dead; you won’t find him. And I’m even more worried about what you’ll do if you do find some Westlander, someone who might be entirely innocent. I don’t know how to say this other than bluntly: do what Sergei told you to do-let them take care of the investigation. You’re not helping them or yourself.”

“And what am I supposed to do, Varina?” he asked. His face was twisted, the skin under his eyes was baggy and dark, and he hadn’t trimmed his beard in days.

“You said that you were interested in what I could show you about enchanting objects. Let me teach you. Let’s work on that, together-I could certainly use your help and your expertise. It might take your mind away…” She glanced around them. “… from this.”

“You can’t understand,” he grated out. “So just leave me alone.” The look of disgust he gave her was like a blow to her face.

“You’ve been hurt enough, Karl. I don’t want to see you make it worse for yourself.”

“I don’t need your pity, Varina, and I don’t want or need your help,” he spat back at her. The words sliced into her. “What do I need to do to make that clear to you?”

“You just have,” she told him. “You’ve made it very clear indeed.” With that, she gestured at the open, sunny expanse of Oldtown Center. “Go on,” she said. “I won’t follow you anymore.”

With that, not daring to look back, she started walking away southward, back toward the Numetodo House. She didn’t look back. She told herself that she didn’t want to see whether he was watching her or not.