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the far right and sweeping left one day and then
on the next day, starting left and working her way right. It
usually took her an hour and a half to sweep along the entire
breadth of the café. Then she took the enormous broom around the
building to the janitorial closet in back—the one which could only
be reached from the outside, and she would put it away. Then Carlo
would hand her a bucket of warm soapy water and a bristle brush and
say “clean,” as if she didn’t know what a bucket of warm soapy
water and a bristle brush were for.
    The wrought iron railing that encircled the
café was covered with soot. Everything in the entire city was
covered in soot. The soot came from the smoke stacks of the
factories that lined the waterfront. It came from the trains that
rolled through the city to the great station four blocks north of
the plaza. It came from almost all of the steam powered carriages
that drove about the wide streets of the city. It was a good thing
too. Now Senta and other children would be able to earn enough
money cleaning that soot to pay their keep.
    Senta started scrubbing the wrought iron
railing, starting on the side opposite that which she had started
sweeping on, so that if she swept from left to right, then she
cleaned soot from right to left. Soon it was cleaned and Senta took
the bucket of warm soapy water and bristle brush back to the
janitorial closet. Then Carlo would hand her a clean cloth and a
jar of polish. Next she would polish the brass dragon at the
entrance to Café Carlo. It was about three feet long, including its
serpentine tail, and about four feet wide, its wings outstretched.
It sat on a stone plinth, so that it could just about look Senta in
the face. She took great care to polish the entire body. While she
did, she talked to the little statue.
    “ It’s all quite funny when you
think about it,” she told the dragon. “I live in the city of Brech,
so I’m a Brech aren’t I? But if I lived in the Kingdom of Greater
Brechalon, but not in the city of Brech, I’d still be a Brech.
That’s just odd, that is.”
    The dragon, completely unmoving, professed no
opinion.
    “ What do you think about the steam
carriages,” she asked it. “I bet you could breathe enough fire to
make one of them go, couldn’t you?”
    Once she had finished polishing the brass
dragon she hurried home. The fact that a six year old crossed the
length of the city, through busy traffic and alone, raised no
eyebrows. She was just one more of the endless supply of
ragamuffins that was one of Brech’s greatest resources. Though
tired, she managed her way up the twelve flights of stairs to
Granny’s apartment without too much difficulty.
    When Senta entered her home, she didn’t find
the warm, pleasant atmosphere that she was used to. Fifteen year
old Bertice, who was usually at work this time of day was home, and
she and Granny stood in the front of the room holding each other.
They both had faces red from crying. Ten year old Geert sat on the
beat up old couch, and though he hadn’t been crying, he looked as
though he wanted to.
    “ What’s the matter?” asked
Senta.
    Granny raised a hand, silently inviting Senta
to her side, and then pulled her close.
    “ There has been an accident at the
print shop. Maro was hurt.”
    “ Where is he?”
    “ He’s in on Granny’s bed, Dear. Why
don’t you go in? I know he’d love to see you.”
    Senta walked into the only other room in the
apartment, the kitchen and living room being for all practical
purposes a single one. Propped up in the center of the bed was
Maro. Though his eyes were closed, it was obvious that he was
awake. He was gritting his teeth and tears were squeezing out from
the corners of his eyes. His right hand was wrapped up in bandages
so completely that it looked to be three times its size. On a crate
next to the right side of the bed was a large brown bottle of
laudanum. Stepping over near it, Senta reached out and touched his
left