The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(52)
“I don’t think we’re facing an ordinary Fen,” Leona finally confessed aloud.
“You can’t believe this ‘Wraith’ nonsense.” Andre rolled his eyes dramatically. “Lord Xin would let none escape the afterworld.”
“A true Wraith, no,” Leona agreed. “But there is more to this. I can smell it.” She didn’t tell them about the strange blood scent she’d picked up twice now. If they couldn’t figure it out, they didn’t deserve to know.
“Which ship do you think he’s on?” Camile asked.
Leona looked over the ledgers. Five ships had left the port in the two days around the theft. She pushed the two that sailed the day before aside. The harbormaster collected taxes and tariffs daily—meaning he’d notice a safe discrepancy quickly. The Wraith would have left before the harbormaster really began work for the day. That narrowed it down to two ships. One had left in the night and the other in the early dawn.
She straightened, looking at the big picture and weighing her options. “We ride for Ter.4.2 and will swing the wide route across the coast.”
“We’re not going after a ship?” Andre asked.
“There are two possible options, but it doesn’t matter which one Cvareh is on. Four out of five ships, including these two, were headed for Raven territory. That’s our best chance.” The reasoning was sound, and her gut corroborated the fact. Still, something was off.
The schematics Cvareh had stolen for the Philosopher’s Box would need a Rivet to interpret and complete. One vessel had headed to Ter.5.4, the last city in the Revolver’s territory that was the closest to the Rivet’s. Leona pursed her lips. Perhaps they had just wanted to leave Ter.5.2 quickly after the commotion at the station. Once in Ter.4 it was easy to get anywhere with the help of the Ravens and all their moving machines.
“When we find Cvareh, what are we doing with him?” Camile asked.
Leona thought about it a moment. Yveun Dono had never much specified what he wanted done with the traitor, only that he wanted the schematics back. She could whisper and ask him, but saw no need to bother her King.
“Well, Petra has assured us that he’s not even on Loom—that he is praying to Lord Xin high in the mountains.”
Andre snorted, showing how much stock he put in the claim.
“So we’re hunting a Wraith, a Fen, and a man who was never even here.” Leona’s lips curled into a malicious grin.
“So no one will care if such creatures were to, say, vanish.” Camile wasted no time on the pick up.
Andre laughed aloud. “Very cloak and dagger. What are we, assassins now?”
“I don’t think we can assassinate someone who isn’t here.” Leona started for the door. “And don’t act like you’ve never cleaned up a mess before. I know how many invisible beads you both wear.”
They all flashed their teeth madly. The Riders were the King’s men and women, the Dono’s most loyal warriors. If they were to be thieves, nothing would keep them out. If they were to be advisers, none would give better counsel. And if they were to be assassins…
Then let the scent of blood put a gnawing hunger in their stomachs.
20. Cvareh
They stood in complete darkness at the end of a dinky pier. His Dragon sight pierced through the blackness, enhanced by the goggles Arianna had upgraded him to. The world was reduced to a reddish filter over shades of gray, but he could see clearly enough to move without hesitation.
The woman was nothing if not meticulous. She waited for the boats around them to creak with every small wave before undoing another knot or line. She was dressed once more in her full regalia as the White Wraith: a pistol on her thigh, canisters around her waist, her winch box and spools of extended line on her hips and strung through her harness.
His attire wasn’t much different. It had been strange to be outfitted by the two Fenthri. Foremost, because it had been the most attention they’d paid him his entire time on Loom to date. But mostly because he’d not the foggiest idea how the guns and canisters strapped around his hips worked.
Florence did her best to explain them, but the girl went into far too much enthusiastic detail about alchemical runes, stored magic, latent power, adding will to the shot, and different types of powders for Cvareh to make sense of it. Arianna’s explanation made a lot more sense: point one end at the enemy, pull the trigger, and hope they die. The longer he spent around her, the more he saw Petra in her. The two had undeniable similarities in the way they approached the world. Things fit neatly into binaries defined by “that which would help them achieve their goals,” or “that which would hinder them.” He smirked privately, amending the last: That which had to be eliminated. He wondered if they would get on well, or be two strong personalities repelling, if they ever met.
Which really was a foolish thought, because there was no way Petra could come down to Loom—that was why he was there in the first place. As the Xin’Oji, Petra had too many eyes on her; navigating the Crimson Court for potential allies and enemies was too necessary an occupation to leave. No, the only way Ari and Petra would ever meet would be if the Fenthri traveled to Nova, and that was a trip he couldn’t imagine her taking.
Finally finished with the ropes, Arianna nimbly boarded the rocking vessel and held out a hand for him. Cvareh blinked at the gesture. She extended her arm a little further, impatiently.