The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(51)

“Why do you think it was this…White Wraith?” Leona asked coyly. She had her own reasons to think it was the infamous organ thief. But she wanted to hear the woman’s logic.

“Three days ago, the harbor master reported a break in. A theft. He discovered the funds missing in the middle of the day, in broad daylight! Now the whispers from the station… everyone knows it must be the Wraith. I don’t know how he’s expanded his territory so widely, but we are all in danger if it is the case.”

“Do you fear the White Wraith?” Leona asked loudly.

“Everyone in Ter.5 does. And you should do the same. The Wraith is infamous for a—”

The woman gurgled blood from her flooding lungs. She looked down in shock. She never even saw Leona move over the counter to thrust her razor sharp claws into her chest. Leona leaned forward to whisper in the woman’s ear. “There is only one in this wide world whom you should truly fear. And that is your King.”

Leona held her hand in the woman’s chest cavity until the last muscle spasms faded from her heart. Withdrawing her hand, Leona wiped it on the woman’s shirt, taking a page out of Andre’s book. It worked to an extent, but she’d want to wash it sooner than later.

“Isn’t she cute when she defends her mate?” Camile teased to Andre.

“If only the Dono was here to witness it,” he joked back.

“Now, don’t be jealous. I would kill Fenthri for your honor too.” Leona grinned, flashing just enough of her teeth to caution them to tread lightly when it came to her fondness for their sovereign.

“I’m not sure if that’s really a compliment…” Andre folded his hands behind his head, falling into step with them.

“Given the high regard you hold Fenthri in,” Camile finished.

“But defend us to, hmm, a member of House Tam? Then maybe we’ll think you care.” The man grinned.

Leona laughed. “Your laziness knows no bounds. You just want me to fight your duels for you.”

“No one can tear out throats—” Camile started.

“Or hearts—” Andre jumped in.

“—or maim like you. Just look at how long your beads are compared to ours.” The other woman ran her fingers over the strand that ran down from Leona’s right ear.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Leona batted her hand away.

“Not unless you’re Yveun Dono,” Andre muttered.

“Enough.” Leona would only let their jokes go so far. They were her friends, but she was their leader foremost. If she didn’t exercise the fact now and again, they would fall out of place and she’d never wrangle them.

“So where are we headed?” Camile asked as they strolled through the streets of Ter.5.2. “Or are we just taking an afternoon walk?”

Leona extended and retracted her claws. “I want to speak with this Port Master.”

The man proved to be relatively useless, imparting no additional information than what the woman at the station had already delivered. Leona milled about his tiny office, almost hitting her head twice on the lamp that hung from the ceiling. She’d begun to tune him out, letting Andre and Camile deal with his ramblings so her mind was free to wander.

She didn’t much care how the White Wraith had infiltrated the man’s offices. For all Leona cared, the Wraith could actually be a specter from the other world. Perhaps that would explain the strange blood smell she picked up in Dortam and again in the station. Perhaps it would actually give Leona a challenge to look forward to on the barren rock known as Loom.

But specter or mortal, there was some logic around how this person was moving. The little man in Dortam would have Leona believe so, and Leona was actually inclined to trust his word after so much else had proved true. She looked out the windows at the harbor.

“Give me the logs of the ships that were here the day you discovered the theft, and a day before.” Leona interrupted suddenly. The harbormaster blinked at her. “Now.”

He rummaged through his office, fat little fingers wiggling over files to find the documents she requested. He laid them out across the desk in batches.

“Information on all these ships.” Leona pointed to the ledgers.

“Yes, right.” The man repeated the process until she had all she needed.

“Now, get out. You reek of Fen, and if I am forced to smell it for another second I will eat your throat.”

The man fled the office in a sweat, only exacerbating the problem. Leona sighed heavily the second the door slammed behind him. The air was heavy enough as it is; she didn’t need the Fen to make it worse.

“Would you really eat his throat?” Andre leaned against the desk next to her.

“Twenty gods above, no.” Leona grimaced at the idea. “But he certainly doesn’t know that.”

“You’re thinking Cvareh is on a ship?” Camile rounded the other side of the desk, scanning the documents.

“The Wraith broke into the harbormaster’s office, not the air admiral’s,” Leona reasoned aloud.

“His scent will be harder to pick up the closer he is to the salted sea.” Andre followed her logic.

“I can’t decide what’s more impressive, the idea that the Fen helping him would know that, or a Xin who’s never set foot on Loom could.” Camile hummed in thought.