Hungry: that was right. There had always been a kind of desperation in it, especially when one was young and had to try and explain it to the people around them – and even the most magical of families didn’t necessarily understand this kind of magic enough to be of comfort. So Savino supposed it was no wonder Miss Reid and her former professor still seemed so close.
“Yes,” Savino said in emphatic agreement, glad that Mr. Carmichael saw the merit of meeting other Seers – and glad that Miss Reid had not minded introducing them, even though Savino knew her general feelings on the matter of the Sight might not quite match his. “And there’s no one – textbook for understanding it, at least as far as I know,” he half-joked, smiling, because Mr. Carmichael was right: it was a puzzle, and a mystery, and there were always, always, more questions to be had. “But it has always seemed a waste to me not to try, at least, to explore it fully.” Interrogating the Sight, investigating new techniques, testing the limits of its capability – even when it did not result in the successes he perhaps wanted, it seemed better than just living his life, head down, attempting to ignore the visions when they encroached.
Maybe the marketplace wasn’t the best place to philosophise about this, or maybe it was (the ancient philosophers had usually picked precisely the same place for their discussions); but if Savino got any more overtly enthusiastic here, they might start getting odd looks.
“But what of your wand-making, Miss Reid?” he added instead, sure that it was what she had been in Italy for. “You are back now in Great Britain for good?”
“Yes,” Savino said in emphatic agreement, glad that Mr. Carmichael saw the merit of meeting other Seers – and glad that Miss Reid had not minded introducing them, even though Savino knew her general feelings on the matter of the Sight might not quite match his. “And there’s no one – textbook for understanding it, at least as far as I know,” he half-joked, smiling, because Mr. Carmichael was right: it was a puzzle, and a mystery, and there were always, always, more questions to be had. “But it has always seemed a waste to me not to try, at least, to explore it fully.” Interrogating the Sight, investigating new techniques, testing the limits of its capability – even when it did not result in the successes he perhaps wanted, it seemed better than just living his life, head down, attempting to ignore the visions when they encroached.
Maybe the marketplace wasn’t the best place to philosophise about this, or maybe it was (the ancient philosophers had usually picked precisely the same place for their discussions); but if Savino got any more overtly enthusiastic here, they might start getting odd looks.
“But what of your wand-making, Miss Reid?” he added instead, sure that it was what she had been in Italy for. “You are back now in Great Britain for good?”
