The Dragons of Nova (Loom Saga #2)(118)
Let the Rivet return to her bleeding world, Yveun thought darkly. Let her know only hopelessness, before her imminent demise.
52. Louie
What a time to be in the organ business. Dragons blowing guilds up. Guilds blowing themselves up. The world had gone crazy and there was only one thing he was certain of: everyone could use a little bit more magic right about now.
“King Louie, we have received reports that a glider has fallen into the remnants of Dortam.”
After the destruction of Mercury Town, Louie had decided it was time to invest a bit in the real estate business. Dortam had always been dangerous, but it was taking a new turn with the past year’s events. He found a comfortable spot down along the main train line out of the city. Close enough that his men could pop into the Revos’ world whenever they needed something, but far enough away that he was well removed. Conveniently, it also positioned him better to run down the line in the opposite direction to Ter.5.2, which opened a whole world of opportunity for exporting.
Business had been going so well that he was considering moving operations permanently in that direction. Or even onto Ter.4 altogether. He’d been contacted by two very interesting Ravens at the behest of a certain girl he once did business with for the infamous White Wraith of Dortam. It almost made him feel bad for selling out young Florence to the Dragons. Almost.
But all was well that ended well. The girl clearly survived and was none the wiser to his decision to trade her for a few organs. Organs he never got.
“Would you like us to investigate?” Ralph asked.
Louie took his eyes away from his personal harvesting operation. “Let’s continue this upstairs. The smell is overwhelming.”
Ralph followed him upward. They switched back in a half dozen flights of stairs up to ground level, and a few more to Louie’s new “throne room”. The depth helped hide the scent of harvesting, so Louie had purchased the building immediately when he had discovered the depth of its underground portion. Bloody cogs, how he loved the Revolvers and their need to build a bunker into everything.
Not to mention, it had an excellent view of the mountains of Ter.5 that turned into a front-row seat to watch Dortam burn days before.
“Has there been word on if it took off again?” he asked.
“No reports of such.”
“Any Dragon activity?”
“None seen.”
Curious, Louie thought to himself. He had good instincts. It was part of what made him so effective for so long. Good instincts, determination, and the proper amount of ruthlessness to tie it all together. They lived in a cold world, no point in rewarding it with warmth.
“I shall go investigate myself, I think.” Louie slipped on a pair of leather gloves, carefully selecting the proper goggles and mask to match. Dortam was a smoking wasteland.
“Do you think that’s wise?” Ralph folded his arms.
“My men work harder when they think I could appear at any moment,” Louie explained. “Furthermore, there’s something odd about this one. A Rider returning alone?”
“Perhaps they were checking to see if the guild was truly destroyed?”
“That explosion rattled the world itself.” Louie chuckled and shook his head. “Even if that were true, why has the glider not left yet?”
“Perhaps it has, and was unseen.”
“And, if such is the case, I will just be checking to ensure my men are leaving no stone unturned, no valuable untaken, and no organ left to rot.”
Ralph knew better than to continue objecting when Louie had made up his mind. He knew who paid his salary, after all.
Trains had long since stopped running along the main tracks into Dortam. The only engines that went in and out were small vehicles fashioned for single-track runs. Fast little things lifted right from the high-speed thoughts of the Ravens themselves. Louie didn’t know the first of how it worked, but the two Ravens, Will and Helen, had agreed to supplying schematics for his Rivets to reproduce as a sign of good faith in their business agreement to funnel weaponry to them from the Revos. What two Ravens wanted with the guns, Louie didn’t know nor care to find out.
He, Ralph, and two others kept on retainer whose names Louie never bothered to learn, sped toward Dortam in the late night.
The center of Dortam, where the guild used to be, was nothing more than a smoldering crater. Louie had kept his ear to the ground, following the destruction, trying to make sense of the presence of Dragon Riders and sudden silence that seemed to sweep across Loom. He was slowly gaining a picture that explained why the Revolvers would blow their own guild five ways to rubble.
The refinery still burned, keeping other parts of the city aflame with it. Buildings still tumbled. Smoke still darkened the air in all-too-quiet Dortam.
Louie couldn’t be bothered for any of it. The days slipped from one to the next, and people struggled. Everyone fought so hard for everything they thought was so important and, in the end, what did it get them? Piles of ash.
“Ralph, tell your men to seek out my other excavators and have them all report here with their current findings for my review,” Louie instructed. “You will lead me to where this supposed glider landed.”
Ralph did as he was told, sending off the other men and starting through the carnage in the general direction of what was once Mercury Town. Louie was winded within minutes, and questioning his decision to come out at all. It was hard work scaling all the rubble. He had people for this.