The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(65)
“You look surprisingly chipper,” Camile assessed as Leona returned to her prior place.
“We’re heading back to Ter.5.”
“Oh?”
“We need to pay the Revos a visit.” Leona flexed her fingers, sheathing and unsheathing her claws. They were trusty, reliable weapons. She hadn’t been like her sister, adopting every new killing tool that came into existence; she’d favored the tried and true methods of slaughtering her enemies for years. But that was up on Nova, and here on Loom the fights were different. “Cvareh had a pistol.”
“A fragile one,” Camile scoffed.
“So let’s get some better ones.” Leona bared her teeth, showing that the matter wasn’t up for discussion. The Revos would give her something the world had never seen before, something so powerful that it would slay even Wraiths, and Dragons who could manipulate time.
26. Arianna
From the brief and tumultuous explanations of Florence’s last time in the Underground, Ari understood why it was called “The Ravens’ Folly.” The Guild wasn’t known for their building skill or logical city planning—however good they were at cartography and public transportation. The Underground was mazelike at best, hellishly backwards at worst—from all the different “builders” adding on at their own discretion. If that wasn’t enough, the deepest parts were said to be occupied by some of the most wretched creatures found anywhere on Loom. And, unlike the Harvesters who occupied the mines of Ter.1, the Ravens who ventured into the Underground were not outfitted regularly with weaponry from the Revos to keep such monsters at bay.
It wasn’t until Arianna was grasping onto the side of a strange mine cart-like transportation machine, with two Ravens laughing gleefully at every pitch-black corner they took at break-neck speed, that she grasped the concept of the Underground also being described as the “Ravens’ Playground.”
“Is this it?” Helen called back to Will. “This is the best she has?”
“Rusty!” Will replied with a shout, pulling another lever on the contraption housed in a back compartment of the vessel. Arianna focused on it—trying to figure out how it worked—rather than the mind-numbing feeling of being hurled through the unknown while trusting the most annoying girl she’d ever met at the wheel and the clinically insane at the engine. “Flor, you have any grease?”
“When have I ever carried grease on me?” Florence couldn’t plaster herself any tighter against the side of the cart if she tried.
Ari hated seeing her distressed. But there was something about the girl’s fear she found the slightest bit endearing. Despite Flor’s Raven tattoo, she was a wrench in a toolbox of screwdrivers here. Ari had only ever known her pupil as a Revo in training. But now she saw clearly why Florence had felt the need to flee the Ravens. There would be no way the girl could pass the mandatory Dragon tests imposed on Guild initiates to cull out those who lacked talent and manage the population they’d sent into a spiral when they’d removed Loom’s breeding policies.
“You had to pick this cart. Didn’t like the other rider,” Will huffed.
“We’d need two riders and only one of these,” Helen answered. “Stop complaining and just manage my speed!”
It wasn’t long before Cvareh was emptying the contents of his mostly empty stomach over the railing. Ari laughed with the rest of them at his expense and he alternated the rest of the day between fuming and panting softly, muttering prayers under his breath to Nova’s endless pantheon. At least, Ari assumed it to be the rest of the day.
Hours were lost to the darkness of the Underground. She’d originally tried to keep up with her timepiece, but quickly abandoned the idea. They pushed every hour they were awake at her behest, moving as fast and as far as they could beneath Ter.4 before exhaustion took over.
Cvareh and she alternated watches. They needed less sleep. Having magic in the blood that constantly healed their bodies and kept them in shape increased their ease of survival tenfold. It also made the fading conditions of the Fenthri in their party all the more obvious. Living creatures weren’t meant to make these halls home for extended periods of time. The strange sleeping schedule and hours upon hours of darkness took a toll on the body as much as the mind. Laughter faded from the group first, talking second, and soon the only sound that filled the air was the screeching of brakes and the clacking of metal wheels on veca after veca of track.
They were four days into their journey and somewhere around Holx, according to Helen, when the last of their rations ran out. The empty bag stared back at Arianna, more vacant than every tunnel she had faced during the hours of their travel. They weren’t going to make it to Ter.4.3 without additional supplies.
“What are you going to do?” Cvareh watched her thoughtfully as she retreated away from the last of the diminished supply bags. The other two mostly empty sacks were in the cart with the sleeping trio.
“I don’t know yet.” Her mind had yet to work out the best solution. It was strange to admit it, however.
She never confessed to Florence when she needed time to work through a plan, or operated with less than one hundred percent certainty. The girl was someone Arianna wanted to look after, care for—someone whose well being Arianna wanted to ensure into eternity. And, while Arianna could see the woman she had become in the past two years, part of her still clung to the idea of protecting the shaking, scared little crow who had run lost through the streets of Ter.4.2.