The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(17)
“I’ll shoot,” she threatened.
“By all means, do. I’ll even stand here and give you to three to do it.”
Florence’s forehead was dotted with sweat and her chest burned. She gulped down shallow breaths of air.
“One…”
Her eyes darted around for help. Everyone else had taken the Dragon’s attention on her as an opportunity to clear the area. She would’ve done the same.
“Two…”
This was it. The clock had run out and it was time for her to make a stand. Even if the Dragon was about to tear her limb from limb, she couldn’t go down without a fight—she wouldn’t.
“Th—” The Dragon stopped himself short. His nostrils flared and his head jerked to attention over Florence’s shoulder.
She instinctively glanced in the same direction, but saw nothing. The Dragon didn’t lunge for her while she was distracted. Whatever he was seeing, it was something important—and something she could not.
With a roar and a triumphant flash of teeth, the Dragon bolted in the opposite direction. He led with his nose, pushing his feet into the ground as though pulled along by an invisible tether. Florence was completely forgotten. She spun, watching him go.
He was halfway down the alley when she lifted her gun again. Her finger ghosted over the trigger…but didn’t squeeze. She returned the pistol to its holster. She’d been lucky the Dragon had been distracted by something and forgot about his quarrel with her. She didn’t need to shoot him in the back just to prove that she could. Ari would never forgive her for taking a risk like that.
Florence continued her run in the direction opposite the Dragon. The bunker wasn’t far and, if anything, she could be thankful that the Dragon’s presence helped clear the streets of any potential witnesses. Through a narrow passage between two buildings, over a low wall, and down a decrepit flight of stairs, Florence found herself face to face with a soot-covered iron door.
Built into the door, in place of a knob, was a sort of circular lock. She had no confirmation, but likewise no doubt, that Arianna had been the one behind its design. Ari didn’t like keys if she could avoid them. They were a security threat, too easy to replicate. No, Ari’s locks were always a combination of numbers and shapes, turning wheels and timing sequences. They were numerical codes given shape in steel.
Florence spun the wheels until the shape Ari had shown her was made. The inner mechanisms of the door clicked in release and she pushed the portal open. The bunker got its name from being beneath a basement of a gambling hall. It was another flight of stairs down that would have been pitch black were it not for the electric lighting.
Only a building with as much money as a gambling hall would have the funds to outfit itself with electricity. The hum of the few solitary bulbs fascinated Florence every time. Rivets boasted that the lightning channeled through copper wire would be the future of Loom.
First steam had been ‘the future of Loom.’ Then the Dragons came, and magic was to be the future of Loom. Then, when magic could make machines accomplish things far beyond steam ever could, electricity was to be the future of Loom. In Florence’s short life she’d heard people boast of three different futures. But no matter what future came, there’d always be something in it to blow up—which was what initially drew Florence to the studies of the Revolvers over the Ravens.
There was another door, and another lock, before she was in the actual bunker. One room, not much to consider by any stretch. It looked like more of a storeroom than any kind of living space. Shelves lined every wall and heavy boxes were piled on them, making the long planks sag in the middle. One bulb cast the room in a ghostly light, shadows haunting the corners of the various effects Ari had squirreled away here.
It was more than Florence had seen the first time, which meant Ari had been adding to it in secret. Florence sat herself on one of the boxes in the back corner, resting her timepiece next to her. Ari had told her to retreat here if ever there was a crisis. She’d wait for a good few hours before heading home. Either Ari would meet her here, or she had no idea what was happening in Mercury Town and would be waiting at home when Florence returned.
Florence pushed off the boxes, already unable to handle the boredom. She began poking around, looking for something to occupy her time. She had a sneaking suspicion she was waiting for Ari to come. There was no way an implosion of that size had gone unnoticed. And, if Florence knew anything about her mentor, it was that she wouldn’t be physically able to keep herself from running head-first into certain danger.
6. Cvareh
The King’s Rider still lingered in Cvareh’s mouth. The man tasted like a rose, sickeningly floral. Cvareh clicked his tongue, trying to dislodge the flavor.
“How did you do that?” Arianna demanded from over her shoulder. She led him through the winding alleyways of what he could now only assume was the infamous Mercury Town. It was filthier than the regular streets had been and he had no idea how living creatures could willingly choose to live in such squalor.
“Do what?”
“Break through a corona,” she clarified, turning sharply and running backward a step or two for emphasis.
A man ahead of them froze in his tracks as they came barreling down the alley. Arianna didn’t say anything, just shoved him out of the way as they tore past. The man blubbered, trying to find his thoughts. By the time he could even form the word “Dragon” they were already far enough away that the shout only echoed to them faintly.