The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)(83)

Until she was faced with reality once more.

Fire lit up the side of his face, the smell of actual smoke flooding her nose. Her mind began working instantly, figuring out the who, what, where, and why of her situation. She was alive, which must mean she’d managed to fly the glider long enough to ease her landing.

But underneath her mind, a different sort of machine purred. It was the one in her chest that occupied the place of her heart, and it hummed in a way she’d never heard before. Well, it didn’t actually hum differently. She knew better than to think emotions could change clockwork gears and screws. In fact, she was glad emotions couldn’t. But she heard it differently. She heard the world a little differently. She’d had her first glimpse into the truth of the man that was encased under his pale azure skin and it resonated deeply with the memory of another woman she once loved. It was no wonder she’d been able to grow any fondness for the Dragon. She just hadn’t been willing to see it until that exact second.

“I finally know what you taste like,” she breathed in relief. It was like finally cracking into a safe that had been driving her mad with its contents for weeks.

“Ari…” Florence whispered weakly.

Arianna was pulled upright at the sound, nearly hitting Cvareh in the face with her forehead. She looked frantically for her student. The glow that had surrounded her from the imbibing slowly faded into the harsh detail of reality.

“Flor!” She held out her arms and the girl came crashing into them. Arianna held her tightly with all her might. “You’re all right. Grease every gear, you’re all right.”

“I should be saying that to you.” The girl hiccupped and tears came.

She pressed her eyes closed, pressing her nose into Florence’s hair. Her darling Florence was in one piece. Arianna could sense the growing decay in her, but that was no better or worse for the fall. She opened her eyes, looking at Cvareh.

Without the haze of the imbibing, she remembered the tension from the last time they had spoken and it seemed he had as well. He regarded her cautiously, his expression searching. Arianna wished she could give him what he searched for. She wished she could—that was a scary thought. But she couldn’t. No matter his nature to strive for a better tomorrow, his perseverance in the face of no natural aptitude, or his ability to see right through her reminded her of Eva…

He was not Eva.

He was a Dragon. A Dragon who had her schematics for the Philosopher’s Box from years ago. Schematics that, the last time she had seen them, were in the hands of a Dragon who had betrayed them all.

“Thank you,” Arianna forced out through her confusion. “For keeping Florence safe.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that.” He shook his head. “I wanted to. She’s my friend too, after all.”

Florence pulled away to smile at Cvareh. No matter what Arianna said, she would believe until the end he was sincere in his desire to help them overthrow the Dragon King. The girl was young, and she could afford the indulgence of hope.

“Well, I don’t see the point of wasting further time…” Arianna stood. “Even though it’s not in Keel proper, the Guild will still be a long trek on foot.”

“At least we won’t have any more Riders after us,” Cvareh pointed out optimistically.

“How do you know?” Arianna was skeptical. The notion seemed too good to be true.

“I’m fairly certain the Dono doesn’t have many more Riders on retainer. And he may not risk them after how many he’s lost.”

“I remember the last time you were fairly certain about a Rider,” she snapped bitterly.

“Ari, don’t be mean,” Florence scolded.

Arianna squinted at the girl. Florence had taken his side a few times over the past weeks, and it was becoming a trend she didn’t enjoy.

“Cvareh has only been helpful.”

“Yes, well…” Arianna had no interest in arguing with Florence. Not when they had somehow made it all the way across the world in one piece despite Riders, prison breaks, and Wretched. “We should get this helpful one to the Alchemists. It’s not far now.”

In the dim light of dawn they set out through the forest. She and Cvareh took turns carrying Florence on their backs. Florence would insist she could walk on her own and they’d let her, but she tired quickly and began to lag behind within minutes.

Words were scarce between them. They each nursed their thoughts and still-healing wounds before conversation. Arianna would glance at Cvareh from time to time out of the corners of her eyes, but she never caught his.

He still carried the folio on his hip, a hand covering it protectively. It was worn and weathered now from their journey, the leather scratched and curling from wear. When he took his hand away there was an outline of where he usually placed it from fretting so much about its presence.

She could kill him now. She could strike him down before they ever made it to the Alchemists’ Guild. Or she could spare him, and merely rip up the schematics.

But that was a painful idea. Arianna had only ever torched her work once, and it was like cutting off her own arm. Progress was never meant to be stinted, and even failures weren’t to be destroyed. That was how she’d been raised; that was what her teacher had instilled in her. So even then, in the final hours of the last resistance, it took the dying wish of her late master to force her hand in doing what must be done.