The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(28)
They were all shades of red—elite of House Rok, he had no doubt. He snarled instinctively under the tightly bound mask over his face. It was nepotism at its finest and a statement of where House Rok stood. No half measures, they said; Dragons were either for the House or against it. Those against didn’t last long.
“Get yourself under control.” Arianna tightened her grip on his forearm, startling him back to reality.
Cvareh relaxed his face and his magic with it. He would give them away with his hatred for the Dragon King’s House and it would no doubt play into Yveun Dono’s ploy with sending all his own.
“Florence!” Arianna had taken her eyes off the girl only for a moment, but it was too late. Florence had approached the customs line with them a few steps behind.
“Tickets,” one of the Riders demanded of her. Florence produced them—Cvareh watched as they quivered in her outstretched hand before the Rider snatched them away. “From Dortam? Your traveling companions?”
“Are here.” Florence motioned to Cvareh and Arianna. “Though, I wouldn’t get too close. They have the onset of Necrotizing Fasciitis. I wouldn’t want you to catch it.”
“Do they?” The Rider seemed unconvinced. Cvareh’s heart pounded. “Where are you headed?”
“To Keel.”
“Home of the Alchemists?” The Rider’s scowl deepened. He seemed to look only at Cvareh.
Other travelers continued to go through the line of Riders without problem, a couple questions and they were off. The rider before them was suspicious. Cvareh could practically smell it on him.
“If anyone can help the condition, it will be an Alchemist.” Florence took a step forward and the Rider blocked her path.
“You smell like Dragon blood.” He looked straight over Florence at Cvareh.
“Likely my fault.” Arianna lifted her goggles without missing a beat, showing her magenta eyes.
“Chimera.” The Rider spat. “Filthy thief.”
The Rider had no idea how right he was. Chimeras had a poor reputation on Nova, especially since half of them got the required organs through illicit trade. Trade that Arianna engaged in and clearly took pride in, as her smile was nearly visible from under her mask.
“Get out of my sight.” The rider waved them on in disgust and Florence took an eager step away.
One of the other Riders called over to the man who had been interrogating them, asking what the holdup had been. The words were likely lost on his companions, but Cvareh understood the Royuk clearly.
“Invalids and Chimera,” the Rider answered. “That’s what reeks of foul blood.”
“How can you be sure it isn’t Cvareh, then?” the other Rider jested back in Royuk.
Cvareh ground his teeth together at the use of his name without any titles. He could learn to live with the slight from Arianna, who hated everything, and Florence, who meant well but didn’t know anything. But these were Dragons. This was intentional. It was personal.
“Inept and dirty blooded, sounds like House Xin all right.” The first Rider roared with laughter.
Cvareh twisted and Arianna grabbed for him. But he was too far gone mentally and physically. No one would slight his House like that to his face, not while he drew breath.
The satisfaction of ripping out the Rider’s throat was deep and true, but short-lived. Golden blood poured between Cvareh’s fingers, his magic preventing the rider from healing. The heart would die shortly, from lack of air and blood-loss, but by then the other three Riders would have Cvareh on the ground and vivisected.
He could see Petra’s face, he could hear her words scolding him as though she already knew what he’d done and was magically whispering across worlds to him. His pride had blinded him and he’d lost sight of the long game. In defending House Xin’s honor now, he’d thrown away the possibility for his family’s glorious future.
A dull thunk reverberated up through the Rider’s body and into Cvareh’s hand as a dagger plunged into the man’s heart. Cvareh felt Ari’s magic pulse through the Rider; the dagger twisted, pulverizing the heart before it retracted into her waiting palm. It was the first time he had ever been relieved to see one of those blades.
“You idiot,” Arianna muttered, before she started on one of the other Riders.
10. Arianna
Dragons could not be trusted.
She’d known this much to be true all her life. When the first Fenthri broke through the clouds of Loom and uncovered the Dragon homeland, it began a chain of events that proved Dragons were opportunists and liars. From the Dragon King promising equality between Loom and Nova, then enslaving her people, to the Guilds being overthrown and turned into a mockery of their former glory, to what happened the last time a resistance stood against them. At every opportunity, Dragons acted in their own self-interest, pursuing their own goals at the expense of others.
Dragons could not be trusted.
Arianna’s magic pulsed through her fingertips as she commanded the dagger at the end of her line like a barbed whip. It cut through the air with a sharp whizzing sound that rang louder and more true to her ears than the cries of the other Fenthri at the fight that had broken out among them. She managed it like a cat and a tail. It was part of her, but moved seemingly with its own mind.
Her other dagger in hand, she launched at one of the remaining three Riders. Three Riders, and two of them—Florence wouldn’t be much help. Arianna loved numbers, but she hated those odds.