The Dragons of Nova (Loom Saga #2)(102)

“They did.” She resumed her business, plucking flowers as delicately as a hummingbird drawing nectar.

“I have someone else that I need you to find.” Yveun didn’t enjoy going to Coletta for help. While he wouldn’t begrudge his mate the enjoyment of knowing she was needed in his world, Yveun wanted to provide. He did not want to be seen as lacking or half-measured when the woman did not even know how to breathe without giving the act everything she possessed.

Coletta smiled, lowered her eyes and gave a small dip of her head, an elegant curve that offered him subservience—visually anyway. Her chest remained upright, her body strong, her back straight; she relinquished no real power to him. She was a study in contrasts: strength from weakness, beautiful and hideous, dangerous and so tender at the same time.

“She is an unnamed.”

Coletta crossed over to a work table next to him, dropping off her basket among a variety of distilling beakers that would make an Alchemist of Loom envious. “I know of whom you speak.”

“You do?”

“I told her to stay away until you had solved the matter of Lossom.” Coletta spoke lightly while her hands remained busy. “He was a fine temporary recovery for you after Leona. I didn’t want you running into the training of a true replacement for our lost girl until you were ready to do so properly.”

“Coletta, I would—”

“Remove the growl and spare me the bravado, Yveun.” She narrowed her eyes to a dagger’s edge. “You cared too much for the girl. Her death affected you, made your head soft. All you need to do is look at your delicate actions following. The fact that Cvareh Xin is even still alive.”

Yveun’s lip twitched in a rage that was directed more at himself than his mate. He wished she had spoken this truth sooner. But if she had, he may not have been yet ready to hear it.

“Trust me,” Coletta breathed delicately, a spell made from spun glass. She stepped forward, resting her hand on his cheek. “I have always seen to it that the path is clear for you to walk. Trust my designs.”

His mate was a shadow master, well versed in the underbelly of Nova. Most never realized how deeply her roots stretched while she enjoyed the sun of the world above, and it seemed Yveun had forgotten as well. The death of his riders had turned him into a reactionary beast. He had to trust the hand that rested itself upon him to pull him back on course and chart a route that would lead to their conquest.

“Go under. Find her. She will come with you now.” Coletta’s instruction was a borderline command. She abruptly returned to her work, the tenderness gone.

“Now?” Yveun clarified.

“Now.”

Yveun paused for only a moment. There was more to this than what Coletta was letting him see. He took her hand and pulled her face toward him. She set her jaw in determination, clearly expressing her opinion on his attempt to draw out any additional truth or facts.

He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his mate’s mouth that transformed the ambivalent line into a thin smile.

“I love you, in no half measure,” Yveun whispered. When the world was falling apart, it made him appreciate the pillar of her ruthlessness all the more. She brewed death at her fingertips and reaped it with words over claws. Most other Dragons would see cowardice, but he saw a stunning commitment to all she was.

Yveun left his Ryu, his true mate, to start for the world below—and to earn his new Master Rider.





46. Florence


“Something isn’t right.” It was the fourth time Derek had said so in the past day. The train made due course from Ter.1.2 to Keel along the main tracks.

“Take your pick from the garden of Everything Is Wrong. There’s no shortage of bounty in the field.” Florence settled in the plush seat of the train cabin they’d been given on Powell’s behalf. But even if Powell hadn’t asked it of the train, they still could’ve each taken their own cabin if they wanted. The vessel was at less than half capacity and most of the travelers kept to themselves. A heavy weight kept heads down and mouths quiet.

Nora gave Florence a tired look at the discourse repeating itself.

“There should be more Dragons along the checkpoints. They’ve been monitoring all trains going in and out of Keel for months, looking for an illegal transport of supplies,” Derek clarified. “But we haven’t seen a single one so far.”

“I suppose they only have enough time to burn Loom and not dance on its ashes.” Florence folded her arms.

“I don’t know why they’re not here...” Derek leaned his forehead against the window, watching one of the aforementioned tunneled checkpoints that kept the endwig at bay through the Skeleton Forest whiz by. It was dark and unmanned, so the train continued on.

“Yes, you do.” Florence wouldn’t stand to see fear and shock dull Derek’s sharp senses. “You know why they left.”

“No, they still need to…”

“To what? To guard the transportation of goods? Derek, there has to be a guild for the goods to go to.”

“There’s no way they would do that to the Alchemists.” He couldn’t even say what “it” was.

“The Harvesters are more essential to Loom than the Alchemists.” Derek and Nora both gave Florence incredulous stares at the notion, but she held fast. “If they’ll do it to one guild, they’ll do it to any.”