The Dragons of Nova (Loom Saga #2)(10)

“It wasn’t a bad attempt.” It was clear his compliment was nothing more than placating. No, it was a positively miserable attempt. Embarrassment stung the back of her throat, becoming more potent with the taste of blood.

“Then I never want to see a bad attempt of yours.” Derek knew she was lying, his chuckle told her so. But the statement was void of any sting.

Her magic had set her face to knitting at the expense of some burst blood vessels. That was the way of magic. Florence had always known it, but this was the first time she was experiencing it. When magic was overused it turned the organs it lived in—which, in Flor’s case, was her blood—brittle and necrotic. If too much magic was used, the body was pushed beyond repair.

She looked with clarity and a heavy sigh on the broken remnants of her revolver. She’d need another, more gold, more chemicals… She wasn’t looking forward to another trip to the armory.

“Up with you.” Derek took her hands, pulling her to her feet. “Nora wasn’t up late last night. She’ll be awake soon and wondering where we are.”

The man relinquished her fingers and walked back over to the trike. Florence stood in limbo. She felt trapped between the failure of her passions and the weak successes of a duty she’d never wanted.

“Flor?” Derek called from atop the vehicle.

“Coming.” She left the remnants of the gun in the dirt. Failure was a missed shot; quitting was never reloading the gun. She was Florence, student of the White Wraith, and she did not quit.





5. Arianna


“Hold on.”

Arianna immediately took issue with Cain’s tone. “You think I can’t figure that out?”

She settled herself on the back of the giant purple flying chicken, hating the feeling of a living creature under her rather than something mechanical. She’d nearly prefer the busted glider over the bird. At least it didn’t have a mind of its own that could rebel when she was in the open air.

“Well?” He drew out a long pause at the end of the word, looking over his shoulder.

“You don’t think I’m actually going to touch you, do you?” Arianna gripped the back of the saddle with both hands for show. Her legs pressed tightly on either side, stabilizing herself.

“Technically—” His eyes darted down to where her hips were pressed against his backside by virtue of the shape of the seat.

“I don’t want to hear it, Dragon.” Arianna narrowed her eyes and reached for her dagger. “Cross me and I will cut—”

“Suit yourself.” Cain shrugged and snapped the reins.

With a mighty caw, the bird lurched off the ledge. Arianna’s stomach was instantly in her throat. She held on with white knuckles and all the determination that came from being keenly aware of how vulnerable she presently was. Arianna had absolutely no control: not of the bird, not of the man before her, not of where he was taking her.

“Where are we going?” She needed to take something back from him, even if it was just knowledge.

“The Xin Manor.” Arianna hadn’t actually expected him to answer. “The Dono will be on Ruana soon, and we need to try to scrub the stink of Loom off you before he arrives.”

“Dragon—” she half snarled.

He jerked the reins and the bird banked hard to the right around the mountain. Arianna’s grip slipped and she teetered in the seat. Still her hands didn’t seek out the stability of his form. She righted herself, collapsing the muscles in her stomach, compressing those in her back, and weighting herself in the seat.

Cain gave her another quick glance. “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

Arianna fantasized about all the ways she could peel his green-blue skin off his bones the second they landed.

“My name is not ‘Dragon’.” He turned forward again with a self-righteous squaring of his shoulders. “It’s Cain Xin’Da Bek.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically at his back. “Cvareh told me much the same when we first met.”

“That’s Cvareh Soh to you, Chimera.” She’d struck an obvious nerve as his tone shifted.

“So defensive,” Arianna mock-praised over the howling wind. “Cva would be so proud.”

Cain gave a sharp whistle and the bird dropped into a free fall. Arianna’s shoulder muscles strained from the tension she put them under as she worked to hold onto the saddle rather than giving in to the Dragon. She’d show him that Fenthri were not to be underestimated. That she was not to be underestimated.

Just when she thought she’d go deaf from the howling wind, he pulled again, leaning into the curve of the mountain. Arianna learned fast and moved with him. The centrifugal force held her in place.

“Cvareh had to earn his name, as do you.” Arianna didn’t miss a beat when the bird leveled again.

Cain laughed at the sky. It was different than the way people laughed on Loom. This sound was loud, full-bellied, a half-roar of mirth.

“Twenty gods above, what are you?”

Arianna leaned forward, finally placing her hands on him. She wanted him to feel her there. To feel the power in her fingertips, to feel her magic. The smell of earth after rain—the scent of his magic—tingled her nose.

“The White Wraith,” she whispered.