The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(27)



“I’m going to heed my needs before I get all strapped in,” Arianna announced, donning her mask and slipping out the room—careful to not let the door open wide enough that Cvareh would be visible.

“What will she do?” Cvareh asked. Florence looked at him, confused. He’d found a friend in the girl—that was undeniable. She listened to his questions and did her best to answer them. As a result, Cvareh picking her brain had become a quickly adopted ritual whenever Arianna left the room. “For work.”

Florence made a noise of comprehension. “If we’re lucky, just some pick-pocketing. But I don’t think Ari has limited her skills to just that in ages, if ever. I’m sure there will be whispers of the White Wraith expanding her hunting grounds before we board for Keel.”

Cvareh waited a long moment for Florence to expand in more detail, but she didn’t. For once, he decided against probing further on the topic. There was a worried cloud hanging over the girl’s head as she engaged in a staring battle with the tools of Arianna’s trade. It was as though she silently accused them for the habits of their master. While Cvareh found the woman abrasive, rude, and hideous, Florence saw beauty. He wondered where he’d have to stand to make sense of the White Wraith the way the young Fenthri did.

“You two are close.” His observation wasn’t a question, so Florence didn’t answer more than nod. “How did you two meet?”

“I was running.” Florence didn’t pull her eyes away from where they had fallen on Arianna’s gear, but she was no longer seeing anything in the small compartment. “There was a group of us…we all decided we would leave the Ravens together. We would strike out for freedom. But we were caught. Most were killed, some imprisoned.” The girl’s knuckles turned white from where they gripped the seat. Cvareh could hear her heartbeat quickening, the tension in her breath. She was nervous saying just that much. “I happened along Ari on the way and I begged her to take me with her. She agreed.”

Florence pulled herself from her thoughts and looked at him with a forcefully brave smile. The crawling unease he felt at the sight of flat Fenthri teeth was beginning to subside. He stared at Florence’s rounded cheeks and delicate nose, her small ears and dark gray skin. She wasn’t pretty by any stretch of Dragon logic. But a little kindness was helping him no longer find her repulsive.

“I guess she has a habit of helping people who need to get places.”

Cvareh snorted at the girl and flopped back into his prior spot, knowing the woman in question would return shortly. “She’s helping me because she wants her boon.”

Ari returned before another word could be said on the matter. Cvareh watched her work as she began to don her harness once more. He was beginning to have more questions than answers when it came to his boon holder. And, while Cvareh usually found unknowns challenging and thrilling, he looked at Arianna and only saw danger. Judging by the woman’s glares, she didn’t want him looking at her at all.

Ter.5.2 had surprising splendor despite its uninspired moniker. Trains created a patchwork of raised rails across the condensed city. Smaller city tracks bumbled along, weaving in and out with open-style boxes filled to the brim with people. Busy streets hummed below them, their occupants unconcerned with the new travelers the vessel was going to impart upon them.

Women wore corsets, tight around their torsos, which accentuated billowing blouses. Fitted jackets adorned with intricate embroidery and rope embellishments matched plumed hats and wide skirts. Overall, it was a sea of muted colors and industrial practicality. But Cvareh caught glimpses of brightness here and there. A crimson feather, a sky-blue lapel, a bright mint under-sleeve ruffle. Against the demure palette, these snatches of color seemed to shine like jewels in a mine.

“You should begin wrapping up,” Florence reminded him.

Under the weight of Arianna’s disapproving stare, Cvareh obliged.

The train steadily lost speed and the station engulfed them. Metal ribs stretched glass between them, supported by stone columns on each platform. Men and women bustled along the stretches of concrete between trains, heading to and from their destinations.

Cvareh stared in wonder. It felt like the apex of a world he had never so much as considered in all his years of life above the clouds. Six trains were lined up, two more platforms vacant. Conductors shouted and soot-covered workers hastily moved all the necessities required to maintain and fuel the metallic creatures. These were the vessels carrying the lifeblood of the Fenthri to and fro.

“Stay with us.” A hand closed around his forearm.

Cvareh followed the gray fingers up to Arianna’s covered face, cast in a plum shade as a result of the goggles he wore.

“And keep your head down,” she commanded.

He obliged, letting her lead him in tow. Cvareh swallowed his pride, reminding himself that this was not the time to worry about his rank and dominance compared to hers. There weren’t any Dragons to witness him deferring to a Fenthri, at least.

Or so he thought.

“Bloody cogs,” Arianna hissed. “Florence, stop.”

Cvareh looked ahead, where the crowd thinned enough between them and the station’s exit to see what gave Arianna such cause for concern. Four Riders lined up along the exit. Each of them had a long strand of hair falling over their ears, every bead signifying a victory in a duel for their position. The shortest was ten beads long, which was nine beads more than Cvareh could boast had he decided to become a Rider at that moment.

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