“Your glory is all ends House Xin seeks.” Petra’s words were poetic, pretty, and utterly insincere.
“I’m sure.” The King waved a long-fingered hand.
Petra bowed, heeding the dismissal with grace. She spun like a dancer and strode out the room with long, measured steps. Leona watched the young Oji go, boring holes in the door with her eyes long after she left.
“Ease, Leona,” the King reminded her again as he stood.
“She’s lying to you, Dono.”
“I am aware.” He started for the door himself, trusting Leona to fall into step.
“Cvareh stayed with his brother here. He could’ve easily uncovered what we had. It had to have been him; only a Xin would take the schematics,” Leona insisted, trying to persuade someone who was already of her mind.
“And he is no doubt carrying them to Loom to find someone who can finish the engineering of the Philosopher’s Box.”
“Should we increase our efforts in watching the Rivet’s Guild? Even the best watchmen close their eyes to sleep.” It would make sense for Cvareh to head there. The engineers of Loom would be the ones to finish what the last resistance had started.
“I trust you to it,” the King agreed, starting for a different set of council rooms.
“I bend to your will.” Leona bowed.
“However, even more so, I want your sister to bring me back what is rightfully mine.” The King paused, giving Leona a long stare.
“I will see that she does,” Leona vowed. “Personally, if I must.”
“Very good.” He nodded and continued on his way.
Leona didn’t know what was holding up Sybil beneath the clouds. But frankly, she didn’t care. In Leona’s world, there was only success or failure. There was no ‘almost’, or ‘close enough’. Leona had given Yveun Dono her word now. If she had to, she would raze Loom to the ground to avoid failing him.
8.ARIANNA
Steam billowed over the platform, curling in opaque clouds from underneath the train and casting halos around the dim lighting of the Old Dortam station. It was the last train of the day to embark along the winding trail that curved through the mountain range to the south of Dortam and out toward the coast.
Florence’s inability to spend the dunca from Ari’s mission proved a favorable happenstance. It was handier to have the money in notes that were easy to exchange for three tickets on a sleeper car. Ari had initially been thinking of stowing away, but she wanted to eliminate the number of things that could go wrong. They were already traveling with a Dragon; the last thing they wanted to do was engage in any activity that could raise suspicion.
Ari stood with Cvareh as Florence approached the ticket counter. Iron gates extended on either side, and train staff waited at each of the small entrances. It was the only thing that stood between them and finally getting out of Dortam, and Ari was holding her breath at the thought.
Their disguises were simple but effective. The three of them would be medical travelers, seeking out the colder air of Keel—conveniently where the Alchemists’ Guild was located—to help with their highly contagious, skin-rotting affliction. Florence had thought of it from something she’d read in a book, and Arianna was content to not question. Flor was playing the nurse—the only one among them who could show her face.
Arianna and Cvareh each covered their faces with cloth medical masks and large goggles that hid their eyes. Ari kept her hood down to avoid too much suspicion, but Cvareh’s was raised. Luckily, his skin was a shade of steely blue that could almost pass for gray in the right light. It was the best they could hope for when the bloody Dragon couldn’t even make an illusion.
Then again, hecouldstop time.
His face became the sole object of her focus. Her hand tingled from where it had raked against his teeth. The ghost of his tongue ran along her skin. She wondered how her power stood up to his. He would know now, since he knew how much magic he expended to stop time and how much hers replenished. Were they well matched? Or could he indeed overpower her? Ari had never imbibed from a living host, and the notion suddenly fascinated her.
“I have our tickets.” Florence’s cheer was almost believable. Arianna stepped first, Cvareh half a step after as she’d instructed. They both fell into place behind the youngest among them as they approached the gate. “For the three of us.”
The ticket-taker tore all three tickets in half at once, passing one part back to Florence.
“Step widely, you two,” she instructed, waving them around the man and onto the platform. The train staff didn’t look twice. Between the mask, the goggles, the hood, the haze, and the darkness—Cvareh was passing as a Fenthri. A large Fenthri. But Arianna suspected that her standing next to him helped. “Don’t get anywhere near this nice gentleman. You don’t want him to catch your sick.”
Others on the platform took heed of Florence’s loud cautioning to the ticket man and gave them a wide radius. Ari smiled proudly under her mask. She’d helped raise quite the cunning little sneak these past two years.
“Let’s see… Our car is…” Florence led them down the long platform, continually checking the tickets. “Right here.”
Arianna had traveled by train a couple times in her life, but she was quick to forget how little traveling Florence had done. The young woman stared in wonder at the plush red carpet and patterned metals, embellished with fabric, of the sleeper car. Cabins lined one side of the hall, windows on the other.
Florence was so taken by it all that she momentarily forgot where they were going—a distraction quickly remedied with a small cough from Ari. Their cabin was small, as most were in second class. It would be tight, but manageable for the few days they would be on the train. This was a trip for business, not pleasure, and Ari was certainlynotgoing to spend more than she had to on the Dragon.
