Arianna concealed a smirk under her mask. He was fun to toy with, more fun than she’d had in a long time. Sure, her jobs kept her satisfied enough knowing she was bringing a measure of harm to the Dragons’ system. But seeing an actual Dragon caused any measure of pain by her actions? It was an unparalleled joy.
“Are we going to make it to Keel in one piece?” Florence asked as the door closed behind her.
“That’s mostly up to him.” Arianna lowered her voice as they walked through the corridor. It was dim now that they no longer had the light from Old Dortam’s platform. Small sconces filled with bioluminescent bacteria in water rocked with the sway of the train, bathing the passage in a dim glow.
“Why did you take the boon?” Florence was still mastering the skill of intimidation. Her penetrating stare was nothing more than a harmless reflection of Ari’s own insistent looks.
“Because I want the wish.” She rewarded her apprentice’s efforts with a real response. The easy way out would’ve been to hide behind her hate for the Dragons. But Ari would give Florence more than that. She’d earned it with her boldness, and with the risk she was willing to take.
“Whythough?”
Ari had carefully built her walls over the years. She’d made them thick and tall around her most guarded truths, and were constructed along the lines she’d drawn when she’d first met Flor. The lines kept the other woman just far enough away that Arianna could sleep at night with some small assurance that her student would be safe, from even her. They were the same lines that showed Arianna where the edge to oblivion was. It was the only thing that kept her plunging into the madness revenge begot.
These walls, her guards, were oddly shaped, however, and they let Florence see a picture that Arianna knew didn’t quite make sense. Ari had told Florence of her hatred for the Dragons and everything that the wretched creatures wrought. Flor was smart enough to also know that Ari was a woman on a mission. She’d likely figured that much out from their first meeting.
Not a single day had gone by in the two years she’d been around Florence that Arianna wasn’t silently haunted by the ghost of her failed mission. The banner had fallen upon her shoulders, weighted by guilt amid the winds of change that swept across Loom. It was the only thing that still truly mattered in her world—or would have been, if she hadn’t met Flor. It was an unfinished portrait that would now be the masterpiece of her revenge. And it was missing one brush stroke—a stroke a Dragon could give.
They had stopped walking and by the way Florence was staring at her, it had been Arianna who had halted their forward progress. Arianna reached out and laced her fingers with the girl’s. She looked at her apprentice in the way she reserved to signal the imminent announcement of the final word on a matter.
“I need this boon, Flor, because there is something he can give me. I will never be free until I finish what I made myself for. And, as much as I abhor the fact, it’s something he can provide.”
9.CVAREH
The train had become a moving tomb, the compartment his coffin. Cvareh had never had much of an opinion on the mechanical boxes that whizzed around Loom like hornets on unknown missions, but he was quickly finding one. He was about to go mad—or maybe he already had. For on the third morning, he found himself debating the fact with his favorite diamond shape in the corner of the ceiling.
There had been no magic whatsoever on the trip. That was a strong and fast rule from the great and always correct Arianna. Sarcasm and eye rolling aside, Cvareh didn’t actually disagree with the mandate. They seemed to have managed to give the Riders the slip by some miracle, and using any magic would only increase their chances of discovery.
He glanced over at the woman known as the White Wraith and wondered if the magic he’d imbibed from her helped mask his own. Or perhaps she had treated the inside of that bunker with some unknown substance and the Riders lost the trail. Cvareh was learning that his traveling companion had a knack for being two steps ahead and one calculation over-planned.
She also had a knack for being more annoying than a no-title upstart determined to gain rank through a back-alley duel. There wasn’t a thing Cvareh could say that wasn’t countered in some way. Honest questions were responded to with bitter retorts. It had him seriously wondering if he had somehow hurt this woman in a past life.
He rested his temple back on the wood by the window. He hadn’t changed his clothes in days—days! And he hadn’t left the room for more than the call of nature, and even that was with an escort. He felt like a prisoner on the run. Which, when he considered it, was almost exactly what he was. Though if he was caught, he’d be killed on sight rather than imprisoned.
The world outside the window had changed dramatically. Dortam was land-locked, nestled in a valley in the center of mountains. For a day and a half, they’d wound around narrow tracks high above sheer cliff faces. Overnight, however, the land had flattened and the train picked up speed as it shot out of tall hills and toward the flattening coast.
They passed towns and small villages that crept up out of nowhere and went running away toward the horizon as soon as the train passed. One or two times, they stopped at a small platform and a few people got off—fewer got on. But everything went as smoothly as butter gliding across a hot pan.
In his moments of frustration, Cvareh bemoaned Ari’s existence. But the farther he got from Dortam, the more he realized his spur of the moment decision to ask her to take him to the Alchemists was a wise one. He knew nothing of this world or its people. He didn’t know why the thin grasses grew so feebly, a pale yellow gray color rather than the vibrant viridescent to which he was accustomed. He didn’t know why men and women buttoned and bundled themselves like swaddled babes, barely showing any skin—often times not even their hands.
He couldn’t tell the highborn from the low. And it was difficult to discern who had wealth and power from those who didn’t. Everything looked much the same as everything else. Ornamentation on rooftops and windows was fine, but not outdone. Nothing stood out, nothing fell apart. New Dortam had been a world away from Nova, and even that was more similar to the cities he was accustomed to than these rural towns.
It was small wonder the Dragon King demanded all Fenthri be marked with their guild rank. Without it, there would be no way to tell them all apart or make sense of their backwards society. He kept such thoughts to himself, of course, as they were certain to upset his present company.
“Four hours to Ter.5.2,” a conductor called from the thin hall outside their cabin. “Four hours to terminal.”
Arianna stood and reached above them for one of the bags. She stacked paper money in perpendicular bundles, counting to herself. Cvareh watched her hands as they flipped through the bills, sequestering out batches before repeating the process. Her fingers didn’t joint exactly the same as his. Cvareh flexed his fingers, unsheathing his claws momentarily.
“What happens if it rips?” He should have known better than to ask the question by now, but silence and boredom had him in their hold.
“Then the bill is void,” Arianna answered as though the fact was obvious.
“So why make the money paper?” It seemed ill advised.
“What else would it be made of?”
“Metal?”Like on Nova.
Arianna paused her counting and looked at him like he was stupid. Cvareh was many things, but he was not stupid and the look made him bristle. “We have more important things to use our metals for than money.”
