The Festival of Elementals

Tomorrow is the Festival of Elementals! I am terribly excited. Every year, with the coming of winter, we celebrate the Elements: Fire, Water, Air, Flesh, and Metal. Every gear-turnier will be out with their best inventions, inviting everyone to notice how well-tuned their creations are to the Great Arts.

My father, who has some knowledge of Machines, will bring out the great Steam-Beast from the Museum, as he does every year; and as with every year, the Beast will show us some new delight. My father swears that he does not tinker with the Beast between-times, but no one believes him. He says the Gods bring the Beast forth each year in a new guise, and we all humor him, because it is such glorious fun - and a little awe-making, too.

I escaped Hieram for an afternoon and walked out to the wine-barn where Ennis has his workshop, but he wasn’t there. The door was locked, but I could see through the corner of the window that he has some large Thing bundled away in there, and I have high hopes that he will show everyone his wonderous skill - even winning the prize for best Machine!!!

Though how he has found time to work on it, I don’t know. I have seen him, in the town and around the Palace, working extra hours to get the younger horses used to the Machines before the festival. They have a Thrummer and a Banger, which makes a loud report, out in the field, and are spending a lot of time walking the horses back and forth in front of these and other Machines, to get them used to noises and flashes of light. It is not an easy job. The poor horses are terribly nervous and liable to jump and flinch, and lose their heads. Many grooms have been injured at this time of year. I will pray for Ennis.

My sister Hemila is here for a visit. She is pregnant with her first child and is staying with our mother, as is custom, while she goes through the first bit of nausea and weakness. When she is stronger she will go back to her husband, but for the moment we are enjoying having her here, as her unease seems only to strike for part of the day. The rest of the time she spends helping our mother and making jokes about my future as a Curator, and generally being her cheerful self. She has us all wrapped around her little finger, and none of us mind. I envy her this easiness she has.

I love Hemila, and she is fun to have around, but she does not take to studying like my father and I do. She does not understand why the Museum is so important. When I