The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(75)

“Because I have work I can do with the rebels at the Alchemists’ Guild. I can help them,” he lied, mostly. Her lips pressed into a small frown; she knew it, too. Before she could press him on it, however, he changed the direction of the wind that blew between them. “What will you do after you have your boon? What do you even want your boon to be?”

Arianna fought a war against his words. She struggled to such a degree that the pain from the battle made it onto her face. Why did she fight so hard to keep him out?

“All my life, well, almost… I wanted the Dragon King dead,” Arianna breathed. “But I know your boon won’t be strong enough for that. I know asking for that would solve nothing. Overthrowing one tyrant only makes room for another. So, if I am selfish, I would ask for something simple: the death of a Dragon.”

“Who?”

She shook her head.

“Why, then?” He didn’t want to let go of the connection they had found between them. Not when he was finally seeing the true colors of the gray woman who had enchanted him.

“Because the Dragon betrayed us all. He was responsible for the death of the last rebellion. The deaths of my teacher, my friends, and the woman I loved.”

The woman she loved. He knew Fenthri didn’t share the Dragons’ concept of family. He knew they had structured breeding before the Dragon King took over and reorganized their guilds and society. He knew that, despite the fact they could not reproduce and therefore the union could bear no true meaning, the Fenthri would couple with the same sex if it suited them to do so.

He knew that. But now it stood before him and he suddenly had to pass an opinion on it. And the only emotion he found was disappointment. Heartbreaking disappointment.

He scolded himself internally. Even if she had been the slightest bit sweet on him, what did he think could come of any type of relationship with a Fenthri—a Chimera? There was almost no point in exploring it.

“I have told you of my heart.” Arianna leaned against the railing, folding her arms over her chest as if to guard the remaining details she hadn’t shared. “Tell me of yours. What makes you so convicted to reach the Alchemists?”

Cvareh sighed softly, other matters still clouding his mind. It wouldn’t hurt to share the schematics with her. She might know what it was, but that could only prove his sincerity for her cause at this point.

Unfastening the folio on his hip, Cvareh pulled back the top flap and selected one of the smaller pieces of schematic. He didn’t know what it detailed, some inner working likely. He passed it over to her and she stilled instantly, taking it.

“They’re schematics for the Philosopher’s Box. With this—”

“Where did you get this?” she uttered, deathly quiet. Arianna remained focused on the paper in her hands. Her fingers tensed, crumpling the edges. “Where did you get this?”

“I was told that—”

“You were told?” Her jaw thrust forward as her eyes rose to scrutinize him. He could practically hear the grit of her teeth. “Told what? Told by who?”

“I was told this was what the rebellion had been working on after the One Year War. That the Dragon King thwarted the possibility of creating a perfect Chimera army. We knew if I had it, I could earn the trust of the Rebels and we could continue work.”

“You could earn their trust,” she repeated mockingly. “No, now I see what this really is.” Arianna crumpled the paper in her fist.

“You can’t do that!”

She prodded him in the chest. “I will never take you to the Alchemists. I will never let you close. If you get off this airship and even think about heading to the Guild, I will cut you down where you stand. Crawl back to Nova, Dragon scum.”

Arianna stormed past him, the paper still in hand.

Cvareh was left to catch his balance as her shoulder clipped his. He was left wondering what he had done, how his branch of peace had been turned into the first shot fired in a new war between them. He turned to call after her and, as if sensing his intention, she spun in place.

“And don’t you think about coming near Flor or me ever again,” she snarled, then continued in toward the cabins.

The other patrons of the ship whispered to each other, tittering as though they had just witnessed a scandalous lovers’ quarrel. Cvareh didn’t know what they had seen. Because this wasn’t the Arianna he knew. At every turn the woman seemed like she was someone different. Every bit of clarity he’d gained into her true nature only served to confound him further.





31. Florence


Ari slammed the door behind her so hard the desk that was bolted to the wall next to it shook, a small tool rolling off its surface. Both Arianna and Florence paid the out-of-place screwdriver no mind. Ari looked at anything else but the paper she’d left on the table with a shout. She set to pacing the narrow cavern, her feet quickly forging ruts in the plush carpet.

“What’s gong on?” Florence finally asked, when it was clear the woman had no intention of doing or saying anything more than fevered mutterings.

“I knew it. I should’ve known all along,” Ari seethed. “He was never our friend, Flor. He’s a Dragon and a King’s man in his own way. He works for the King himself.”

“What?” The machine in Ari’s mind had jumped three gears and Florence couldn’t figure out how she’d gotten from one spot to the next.