Turning the Storm by Naomi Kritzer Page B

here.”
    Quirino shook his head. “It wasn't always such a serious crime. Is it true that the Lupi are also Redentori?”
    “Most of them.”
    “The Fedeli—well, it's not like they were ever very happy about Old Way superstition, but since the trouble in Verdia started—” He shook his head. “Maybe we can take a trip sometime, out of Cuore, and you can teach me a few of those songs, you know?”
    “I'd trade,” I said. “But I gather I shouldn't teach Valentino?”
    Quirino looked exasperated. “Valentino thinks that his naïveté will protect him. So he's friends with Ulisse, and he thinks Sura is cute. Why should this be a problem?”
    “Why should it? I still don't understand. You said you'd explain the factions to me—”
    “—later, I know. I'm sorry to keep putting you off, but my ensemble's performing soon and I need to get back to my room to get my clarinet. I'll explain later, I promise.”
    Quirino headed off, turning back to make a final request—“Find Valentino! Get him away from Sura. This is ridiculous—he really is going to get into trouble.”
    ∗    ∗    ∗
    I went out to meet Michel that evening, at another smoky tavern near the university. I was afraid Ulisse would spot me and demand to know why I was there, but this crowd seemed to be older. Michel joined me at my table a few minutes after I arrived.
    “Was that you I saw today?” I said.
    “Yeah,” he said with a broad grin. “I did a good job at looking like I didn't know you, didn't I?”
    “You did fine,” I said. “Do you have any messages for me? I don't have anything to report yet.”
    Michel sighed. “I met with the guy who runs stuff, Placido.”
    “And?”
    “Placido wants to know why
Eliana
didn't come up to meet with them, or Giovanni. I told him that we've got a spy at court—not who, of course—and he wants to meet you.”
    “Out of the question,” I said.
    “That's what I said. He didn't like that answer. They're putting me up and giving me cover, but they're not letting me into their counsels. I'm not
noble
enough for them.” Michel glared at his wine cup.
    “Tell them I'm not up to their standards, either.”
    “I don't think it matters. I think they just want to prove that we're at
their
beck and call, and not the other way around.”
    “Well,” I said. “We're not. Michel, stand straight and look them in the eye! You're better than they are. You've led soldiers in battle, you've faced the Circle, while they've slunk around Cuore holding meetings and appointing generali.” I punched his arm gently. “But don't worry about it too much. All we really needed from them was a way for you to stay safely in Cuore, so that you could carry messages if needed. They're giving us that, right?”
    Michel nodded.
    “So, if Placido takes his head out of his asshole, great. If not, he's the one who has to live with the smell.”
    Michel laughed, and poured me more wine. “You're right.”
    Neither of us had anything else to report, so I bid Michel good-bye and got up to leave. As I slipped through the door, I came face-to-face with a tall young man with beady eyes and a round, piglike face. Pig-boy gave me a poisonous glare, then shouldered me out of the way to enter the inn. He was greeted by several people who raised their wine cups enthusiastically and shouted, “Placido!” I turned around briefly to take a better look, but he'd already turned his back on me, moving into the tavern with a bright smile and a handclasp for all. If pig-boy was the leader of the university reformers, I decided, I was glad that Giovanni was the worst I ever had to deal with.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Take heart: I am with you in the night as in the day, in your weakness as in your strength. Wherever you are, look for my face, and it will shine on you from the smile of a stranger. Reach for my hand, and I will touch you with the lost feather of a bird. I am ever with you.
    —
The Journey of Gèsu, chapter 31, verse 2.
    A