“Liquid nitrogen.” She sighed. “I’m afraid it’s probably fractured the casing of the firebox, but—”
“Only an alchemist should have thought of that,” Leo interrupted. He ran a hand through his already mussed hair, making it stick out in all directions. “You built a freeze ray. In two minutes, using a fake laboratory you carry around in your pocket.”
She blinked at him, wondering what the problem was. “Essentially, yes.”
“Just because you’re a polymath doesn’t mean you have to be brilliant at everything,” he said crossly. “For heaven’s sake, couldn’t you stick to just two disciplines?”
Men really were unbelievable—he had no logical cause to be annoyed with her. What did he want her to do, pretend to be dumb? “Next crisis, I’ll be sure to invent a creative, lifesaving solution in two minutes while simultaneously stroking your ego so you don’t feel overly threatened by a woman doing your job for you.”
Leo flushed bright red. “I see we’ve come full circle, back around to flinging daggers. Perhaps you could send a calling card ahead, so I know to come to the conversation fully armed?”
A small flower of guilt unfurled in Elsa’s chest, but she kept the feeling hidden. Impassively, she said, “You should know this by now: I always come to the conversation armed.”
The trip back to Pisa was full of stony silences. It bothered Elsa more than she cared to admit. Why should she worry over a petty argument with Leo when she had a pile of repaired books from Montaigne’s library to contend with when she got back? She could finally begin the search for her mother in earnest. The wounded pride of some young man of her acquaintance hardly mattered when held up against a sabotaged train and Jumi’s abduction.
It was just the awkwardness of being stuck in such close quarters with him that made Leo seem like the most important thing in the world. He had a frown line between his brows, and Elsa wanted desperately to ask him about his theories on who had sabotaged the train. Were they connected to Jumi’s abductors? Were they trying to stop her from finding her mother? But it didn’t make sense to try to kill her now, when they’d had ample opportunity in the cottage after the knockout gas put her to sleep.
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.