One long sofa was on the right, a low bar for basic effects on the left. Over the sofa was a second bed that could be folded down from the wall. It was cramped with the three of them and Ari was stuck awkwardly shuffling around Florence and the Dragon to pull the curtains over their window and lock the door behind them.
“Flor, you did a great job.”
“I was so nervous, I thought I’d be ill!” The girl fell onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh and began rummaging through her bag for a foil-wrapped chocolate.
“It didn’t show.” Arianna pulled the mask down from her face and rested her goggles atop her head. Her eyes fell on the Dragon as he carefully inspected the metalwork with one of his bandaged hands. “Well, Lord Dragon, fashionable enough for you?”
“And how long have you been waiting to use that quip?”
Arianna was dangerously close to appreciating the Dragon’s adaptability in managing her sarcasm.
“But yes, it is quite fashionable. We would use wood on Nova for something like this. I’d never thought metal could look so… soft.”
The compliment caught her off-guard. Her immediate reaction was to probe for falsehood. But she could see none in the way he delicately traced the star-like shapes the intersecting diamonds of raised metal made. That sent her mentally pin-wheeling in the opposite direction. If this Dragon thought he could win her over with a more delicate approach to her world and people, he was certainly wrong. Ari sat heavily on the sofa, stretching her legs as long as they could go in the narrow compartment.
“Look, Flor, he admits the whole of Loom shouldn’t be burnt to the ground.” Arianna closed her eyes, satisfied at having the last word.
“I don’t think he ever said he thought it should be.”
Arianna cracked one eye open. Florence had the audacity to grin at her.Traitor.
Cvareh lowered his hood, his blood orange hair spilling around his head like a halo in all directions. In about thirty seconds he went from being a narrowly passable Fenthri to looking entirely Dragon. It soured Arianna’s stomach with the sobering reminder of why they were on the train.
“Don’t take too much off,” she cautioned him. “Never know when a stray conductor could decide to poke a head in.”
“That happens?”
“Sure, looking for stowaways or people who have overshot their tickets.” Florence gave Arianna a pointed look at the end of the statement, which Arianna held knowingly. It was their second time traveling by train together. The first time, they had been those stowaways in hiding from the conductors and train workers.
Yet another reason for Ari to be silently glad they’d had the money in cash to buy the tickets—she had the opportunity to take the girl on a train properly.
With a sharp whistle and some calls from the platform, the train ground to life. Florence pressed herself up to the window, pulling back the curtains just enough to peer out. Arianna watched the hazy lights illuminate the fabric in increasing frequency until they zoomed by in a race to meet the impending blackness that awaited them at the city’s edge.
Arianna stood. The gentle sway of the train was making her tired, and she wasn’t ready to be lulled to sleep just yet. She wouldn’t feel comfortable until more space was placed between them and Dortam. They’d never found out what happened with the Dragon Riders. They’d overheard whispers and hushed conversations on their way to the station, but no one spoke too loudly and no one knew if the Riders had truly left Dortam to return to Nova, or just left the area. The further they got from the city without incident, the more relaxed she’d let herself feel.
“I’m going to go to the dining car. It’s late, but they may still be serving something since the train didn’t get moving until just now. Flor, do you have a preference?” Arianna made it a point not to ask Cvareh.
“No, anything is fine.” She was entranced by the outside world blurring by as the train steadily gained speed. “Actually, should I go?”
Arianna’s mask was halfway on when her student recalled the illusion they were working to uphold. She considered this, weighing the options. “We can both go.”
“Why are you unmarked?” Cvareh’s attention hadn’t wavered from the cheek she had just covered with her mask.
“Because I was in the guilds beforeyour kind.” Her skin prickled at the retort—at the memory of the time before the Dragons.
“Florence said you’re a Rivet.” Arianna glared at her student for imparting such information to the Dragon. He continued, “Why not just get the mark? Then you wouldn’t have to hide your face. Wouldn’t it be easier?”
“Because I do not want the mark.” There would be no way a Dragon could ever understand. It was like asking a Revolver to fix an engine, or a Harvester to use just enough medicine to save rather than kill. Even if she believed he wanted to understand—which Ariannadidn’tbelieve—he still couldn’t.
“But you wear it anyway.”
The iron of her pin was cool under her fingertips. “I can remove this.” The man was infuriating, and she wasn’t going to defend herself to him. “Tattoos should be choices, not brands.”
Cvareh was silenced and seemed to heed to her words. The tattoos Arianna did bear burned underneath her clothing. They reaffirmed her position.
“Now, we are going to find food. Stay here, and don’t get into trouble. If you do I’ll—”
“I know, you’ll cut me. Or kill me. Or have me kill myself.” He flopped into the corner by the window and pulled back the curtain a sliver, just enough to watch the gray world slip further into darkness.
