The Dragons of Nova (Loom Saga #2)(106)
“Aren’t you—”
“Yes, yes,” she cut him off with a wave. “But I wanted to speak to you first.”
“Every moment we waste is another Ari spends with Yveun.”
“And he will not kill her.” Of that, Petra was certain. “He needs her as much as we do. He needs her knowledge, at the very least, before he could even consider removing her.”
The tall foliage brushed against her hips as she reached for her brother. Her hands wrapped around the back of his head and she placed her forehead against his. Petra closed her eyes, imagining their minds as one. Her little brother, full of so much potential, the tool she had kept at her disposal. Sometimes clumsy, but always out for the best of House Xin.
“Your mind is noisy. You must silence it,” she cautioned. “I know you are worried for this mate you have chosen. But Arianna is strong. Worry no more for her than you would for me.”
“I worry for you plenty.”
Petra pulled away with a smile. “All I want you to worry for now is yourself. Focus on what we’re here to do. I will make sure to create quite a stir. I’ll keep Rok’s attention on me for as long as I reasonably can, but you must make haste while I do.”
“I will.”
“Ends before ideals,” Petra reminded him. “Do what you must for our House, Cvareh.”
“I will,” he repeated.
Satisfied, Petra wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulled him tight for a brief moment, then mounted her boco once more. They had always been playing a dangerous game, but the stakes never let up. They grew with each passing moment, each passing day. Everything had come to a head so quickly that Petra knew every decision they made from here on would govern the future of their House—and perhaps the future of Nova itself.
Cvareh moved forward on foot, and Petra watched him leave.
She waited long after he disappeared over the hill. She gave him time, stiff in her saddle, impatient but forcing herself to remain. They had landed intentionally far from the Rok Estate. It wasn’t a distance he could traverse inconspicuously with any speed.
When the sun hung low in the sky, she took to the air once more. The shifting grasses and swaying, spindly trees below caught the sunlight, shining as if the world itself was aflame. Petra scanned the ground, flying at leisure, satisfied when she finally caught a glimpse of Cvareh. He was near the edge of the estate, entering through the homes where Yveun’s political wards lived. It was an area Petra had made sure he was familiar with by having him visit Finnyr often enough.
How he would find Arianna once inside was up to him. She had more important things to concern herself with. Petra landed in the field designated for guests’ bocos and summoned a face of pure ire. It wasn’t hard given the circumstances.
She stormed for the opening of the Rok Estate, claws out, teeth bared, the very image of an Oji scorned.
“Where is Finnyr Xin?” she barked to the first Rok servant who had the ill fortune of greeting her.
“Xin’Oji, we were not expecting—”
Petra gouged out his throat. It was risky to spill any blood on the Rok estate, but the smell of one of their own bleeding would send every Rider running. It would draw all eyes to her.
Sure enough, the soft clicking of the beads of a Rider neared, rounding the corner as an apple-skinned woman stopped at the far end of the hall. She sheathed her claws the moment her eyes fell on Petra. The Court was too fresh in every Dragon’s mind for any to be inclined to challenge her, any other than Yveun. Especially not over the death of a no-name slave.
“I demand my brother.” She spoke loudly, for all who were gathering. “I demand Finnyr Xin.”
“Finnyr is a ward of Yveun Dono.” Petra mentally commended the Rider for maintaining a strong and level voice in the face of her rage. “The Dono would need to approve Finnyr’s departure.”
“The Dono can keep him.” Petra snorted. “I merely want to kill him.”
“The Dono would need to approve a duel…”
Petra advanced on the Rider. She could smell the fear in the air around the woman. Her dilated eyes, her barely stable hands. The Rider was ready to fight, but they all knew who would win. It would be a life wasted.
“This is not the Court. This is a House matter. Yes, we are on Lysip, but as I, the Xin’Oji, am demanding a duel with a member of my House, it should fall under my jurisdiction, not the Dono’s.” Petra lorded over the slip of a Dragon. For now, she didn’t actually care if she was given Finnyr. She would kill him someday, and someday soon. But the longer they stalled, the more of an opportunity she had to raise a fuss over the fact and the more time Cvareh had to find Arianna.
“You are quite right.” A new voice stilled the room with its whispering tones.
Petra straightened away from the Rider, looking with curiosity for the source of the sound. A small, frail-looking Dragon had parted the gathering mass of people with her presence alone. Petra had seen the woman before at Courts and a few special functions, but she was as rare as raindrops otherwise. The mere sight of her sent a whole new wave of rage across her skin.
“Coletta’Ryu.” Petra had to think quickly or she’d lose all reason to anger. She didn’t expect the Ryu to greet her. Yveun wasted no time glowering over her at every chance. What did it mean for this woman to be standing in his stead? He was no doubt somewhere delighting at having the butcher of Petra’s people greet her. “Will you see Finnyr fashioned for me?”