The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(25)
“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 before your 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 Arianna didn’t believe—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.
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.
“Why though?”
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.