The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(33)
When she had escaped those tunnels, she vowed to never enter them again. She had gone in one of ten and come out one of three. The unending blackness had taken its toll on them. They had paid their dues for her freedom many times over.
“I can’t lead you through them.” Florence shook her head violently. “I wasn’t leading last time and I don’t remember.”
“I know, Flor, I know.” Arianna’s hands smoothed over Florence’s shoulders. The motion did little to soothe her racing heart or calm her nerves. “But we must use them. They’re the only straight shot from Ter.4.2 to Ter.4.3 that assures no chance of anyone sensing Cvareh’s magic or picking up his scent. From there we can cross to Ter.0.”
She wants to cross the wasteland. Florence shook her head. It was clear this was a Rivet making a traveling plan, because no Raven in their right mind would suggest such a dangerous and backwards journey to Keel.
“That still doesn’t solve your problem of navigation.” Florence was grasping at straws, anything to make Ari reconsider.
“I’ll have help.” Arianna’s eyes told Florence she had yet to reach the worst of it. Those wretched, expressive Dragon’s eyes suddenly looked so foreign. This woman, this woman who had pulled Florence from the shadow of death, would now plunge them willingly back under that shade.
“Who?” Florence asked, though she already knew the answer.
“Your friends.”
Florence’s mouth dropped open. Arianna was reckless—that much Florence had always known. But never once had she thought the woman was stupid enough to break out two inmates from the floating prison of Ter.4.2.
12. Leona
Sunset was Leona’s favorite time of day. The blinding light began to diminish, turning the sky the color of summer cherries. The world was awash in a pale red haze, sparking the accents on the Rok estate as though everything was graced by tendrils of flame.
Leona basked in the warm glow, the last fading heat before the chill of night tainted the world. Too fitting that House Xin would be done in blues that mirrored her least favorite hours. She opened her eyes, staring at the archways curving over the balcony’s entrance.
House Xin. The name alone put a foul taste in her mouth. There had not been a whisper from Sybil in four days since she descended to Loom. What was taking her so long to find the boy?
Yveun Dono grew more impatient by the hour, and Leona couldn’t really blame him. She turned her head and looked into the room beyond—his drawing room. The King sat atop a raised dais. Behind him was an identical circle embellished with a gold band and even more circles ringed in gold. He looked as though he sat atop the earth, and the moons and suns rose at his back. Her King could pass for part divine.
“You seem cheerful,” his voice rumbled from across the room out to the wide railing Leona had made her perch.
“Dono?” She sat straighter, draping her legs on the inside of the balcony.
“You’re not one often caught smiling to herself.”
Leona pressed her fingertips into her cheeks, catching the offending emotion spread across her lips. Thankfully, it was just the two of them present, and she had no secrets from her sovereign. “I was thinking that it is a lovely evening.”
The King paused, looking out over the veranda where Leona sat. He considered the sunset as though he hadn’t even noticed the passage of time over the past few hours. His face relaxed, just a fraction. There were only a handful of people Leona suspected would notice the subtle shift in his brow that occurred when the King transitioned from their supreme leader to just a man.
“I suppose it is a nice evening.”
Leona averted her eyes, focusing on the horizon once more. Her magic flowed hot through her veins at the King’s agreement; it churned in delight, sparking against his as he suddenly appeared at her side. He moved as effortlessly as the wind, as soft footed as starlight.
Her eyelids felt heavy as he ran a claw up the line of her spine. They were so close she could feel the air shifting from the movement, a hair’s width from her flesh. He still withheld his touch from her. They were nothing. But he was her everything—and what made them dangerous was that he knew it. His breath was warm on her cheek, the only thing he let touch her skin as his face hovered over her shoulder.
She waited for him to say something more. The silence held ciphers of truths that lingered between them, written in a script that neither knew yet how to decipher. This would not be the moment they were given sound.
Yveun Dono pulled away and returned to his desk. Leona continued to stare at the horizon. Neither said anything further until night had begun to overtake the sky.
“I think it’s time to dress for dinner,” he announced.
Leona rose to her feet a moment after her King stood, then crossed the balcony and fell into step just behind him. They left the room and she saw him to his chambers. His manservant took over and Leona was dismissed from her post.
She started for the dining room, taking back halls to avoid any other House Rok nobility. Coletta’Ryu would be about to dress as well, and Leona’s feet purposefully avoided the walkways the queen was known to haunt. It wasn’t hard. Yveun Dono’s sickly mate didn’t wander far from her bed or gardens.
She was halfway to the dining room when she heard the crack of a glider breaking through the clouds below. Leona rushed to the window and scanned the darkening sky. There was the telltale glitter of magic fading on the wind…