Ink, Iron, and Glass (Ink, Iron, and Glass #1)(38)

Elsa kept her questions inside, and so they went unanswered.

The Italian transportation system’s procedures for dealing with broken-down trains left something to be desired, so they were lucky to get a cab ride back to La Spezia in time to catch the last train departing for Pisa. More than once, Elsa weighed the merits of using the doorbook to port directly back to Casa della Pazzia, but she decided not to antagonize Leo with yet another invention. By the time they rolled into the Pisa station, it was well past dark.

Leo silently helped her with the carpetbag full of books, and they stepped out onto the dimly lit platform. The night had turned cool, and aside from the other passengers departing from the train from La Spezia, the station looked deserted.

Elsa opened her mouth to apologize, but all that came out was, “Do you think we’ll be able to catch a hansom cab at this hour?”

Leo snorted. “Maybe in Paris. I hope your feet aren’t tired yet, because it’s a long walk.”

He still held the carpetbag, so as a courtesy she declined to point out that she was accustomed to walking all day through the wild terrain of Veldana.

“You ought to be able to summon the spider hansom to you,” Elsa mused.

“Well, I can’t,” Leo snapped.

She sighed. She hadn’t meant it as a criticism. “I know. I simply meant it was theoretically possible, if it can navigate back to Casa della Pazzia on its own. An idle thought, that’s all.”

“Oh, yes—I’ll get right on it,” he said sarcastically. “Perfecting the hansom is, clearly, a top priority.”

Elsa held her tongue and walked ahead.

Leo pushed out a noisy breath of frustration. “It’s just that we don’t even know what happened back there on the train. We have bigger concerns at the moment.”

They arrived at Casa della Pazzia long minutes later, both of them exhausted. Porzia appeared in the entry hall as soon as they were through the front doors; she took one look at them and clicked her tongue against her teeth disapprovingly.

“You’re late. And filthy. What did you do, walk all the way back from La Spezia? Casa, please prepare baths for the both of them.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Elsa said, grabbing the carpetbag out of Leo’s hand. “I need to check the worldbooks.”

“You look exhausted,” Porzia replied, hands on hips, a pose that made her look every inch the daughter of Signora Pisano. “We’ll all need our wits about us to explore the worldbooks. It isn’t the sort of thing one should do in the middle of the night after a full day of traveling.”

Elsa frowned. “I’m fine. It’s not your concern.”

Porzia put an arm around her shoulders and guided her up the stairs. “You won’t do your mother any good if you get trapped in a broken world, or disintegrated in a patch of Edgemist, or eaten by a scribed creature.”

Without saying a single word, Leo stalked past them, taking the stairs two at a time.

As soon as Leo was out of earshot, Porzia leaned toward Elsa confidentially. “He’s in quite a state. What’s wrong with him?”

Dryly, Elsa replied, “I’ve been compiling a list. Would you care to see?”

Porzia rolled her eyes. “I meant what happened? Did he have some trouble getting the restoration machine working?”

“No, that part went smoothly. But the train back from Cinque Terre was sabotaged, and that was troublesome.”

“Sabotaged!” Porzia stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed Elsa by the shoulders. “This is important, Elsa: Did Leo think it was a coincidence, or was the saboteur targeting you specifically?”

Elsa shrugged off the other girl’s grip. “I don’t know, he didn’t mention any theories either way.”

“Hmm.” Porzia went quiet, seemingly lost in thought as they went down the hall. But when they reached Elsa’s rooms, she bent down and deftly pulled the carpetbag out of Elsa’s grasp.

“Hey!” Elsa protested, too surprised to keep ahold of the worldbooks. “What are you doing?”

“Confiscating these until you’re well rested. Reckless mistakes get people killed, and I have a house full of orphans to prove it.”

“I need those books—there could be a clue to my mother’s whereabouts in one of them.”

Porzia tilted her chin down and gave Elsa a maternal glare. “Sleep first.”

“I can’t believe you!” Elsa protested, but Porzia was already striding down the corridor toward her own rooms, taking the stolen carpetbag of books with her.

“Good night, Elsa,” she called over her shoulder.

Elsa heaved a frustrated sigh, planted her hands on her hips, and stood there in the hallway debating the merits of chasing after Porzia for a confrontation. Porzia had acted out of concern, and whether or not Elsa liked to admit it, investigating the contents of the worldbooks in her current state of exhaustion could be dangerous.

Porzia was certainly right about one thing: her clothes were filthy—coated in a layer of coal dust, and speckled with solder and lubricant from the process of constructing the freeze ray. Elsa went down the hall to the bathroom, struggled out of the dress, and grudgingly accepted the bath Casa had prepared for her. Back in her rooms, she had to pull all the covers off the bed again (one of the house-bots kept sneaking in to make the bed) so she could curl up on the floor.