The Dragons of Nova (Loom Saga #2)(19)
Florence pursed her lips, taking issue with his tone.
“The Wraith taught you, didn’t she?”
“She did,” Florence affirmed proudly. Ari had quickly become infamous among the Alchemists. She’d only been there about two weeks before flying to Nova, but in that time she’d worked the Vicar into a fit, claimed to be the creator of the Philosopher’s Box—a real Philosopher’s Box, and produced so many clockwork locks that half the initiates couldn’t get into their rooms after they quickly forgot the complexity of Arianna’s designs.
“The woman is half monster and half master. I can’t deny it,” he continued before Florence could correct him in Ari’s defense on the former. “But she is a Master Rivet. I’ve no doubt you benefited from her tutelage. You ask the right questions and you’ve been trained to think beyond what is there to what could be. You are young but you have the foundation of one truly raised on Ter.0.” Sadness lined the man’s eyes at the mention of the lost continent, a way of life that had been destroyed by the Dragons. “But she is not a Revolver. She cannot teach you the skills of follow-through on those theories. And, to that end, you are lacking.”
“Then you teach me.”
The man scoffed, brushing away the notion with a wave of his hand. “If I’d wanted a pupil I would’ve remained near the guild hall chasing my circle. I’ve not the time, energy, or interest for a student.”
“Then give me the gunpowder so I can continue to learn on my own.”
“No.”
Florence felt like she was stuck in a loop. “How am I supposed to improve?”
“Go back to the Revolvers, have whomever you claim was teaching you—despite your being a marked Raven—continue to do so.”
“Even if I could do that…” Florence didn’t actually know if she could. Her teachers likely stopped going to their meeting places when she’d stopped showing up. Arianna had been the one to forge those relationships. “I want to help the resistance.”
“Then help us, and don’t be a leech on our powder.”
“I—”
“Go away, girl. There’s nothing more to say.” The man turned his back on her again.
Florence couldn’t help herself; she shot one nasty face at his ugly salted hair before storming out of the armory. The guild continued on around her. Initiates worked on magic, reagents, pharmaceuticals, and a half dozen other things with all the help and support of a guild behind them. Florence was the only one adrift.
She slunk back to her tiny laboratory with her tail between her legs in the hope of licking her wounds in relative peace. She had only about twenty minutes of quiet before her door opened for two Alchemists. Nora and Derek helped themselves into her space, crowding around her table without invitation.
“You weren’t at dinner.” Derek dropped a plate before her.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Do you know how quickly your body will go into starvation mode if you don’t eat?” Nora leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “The second it does, it starts breaking down your muscle for energy because it’s the densest source in your body. It also destroys your ability to process—”
“I get it. I get it.” Florence hooked the plate and pulled it toward her. She was hungry, she just didn’t want to be around people. But it seemed she had an audience despite her efforts. And, if she was going to be miserable either way, she may as well be miserable and full.
“What has you so upset?” Derek asked after she tucked in.
Florence offered them both a quick summary of her encounter with the armory master.
Derek leaned back and folded his arms, listening thoughtfully. Nora hummed and nodded along, picking off the vegetables that were too bland for Florence’s taste. The other girl was the first one to speak when Florence finished her tale.
“He has a point.”
“As do I.” Florence frowned.
“His is more valid,” Nora insisted. “You haven’t done much here.”
“I’m working on making long-term change.”
“At least by blowing up trees in the forest,” Derek added dryly, earning him a sharp look. He remained unapologetic.
“You two go through reagents like water. And I’ve seen how quickly chemicals disappear when you’re working on something new.”
“But we’re Alchemists. This is our home, our guild,” Nora reminded her, as though she could’ve somehow forgotten. “It isn’t the place for you to run your… whatever tests you run. You should go home for that.”
Florence rolled a canister across the desk as Nora spoke. If she hit it too hard it would blow up the three of them. Though she neglected to mention that fact about the “tests” she ran. “I thought the resistance believed in the old ways of Loom? The notion that men and women should choose to study what they please. That there’s more to be learned from working together than apart?”
“We do. But if our resistance falls, it doesn’t matter what we believe.”
Florence bristled at the implication: the idea that she would do something to contribute to the fall of the resistance, rather than its success. She kept her face emotionless as Ari would have. Or tried to.
“Why don’t you just focus on something that will actually help us? Like trying to pin down those friends of yours who can get guns and clockwork through Ter.4?” No matter how many times Florence reminded her, Nora never seemed to fully grasp that she wasn’t a Raven at heart despite what was on her cheek. And that getting in touch with Helen and Will was harder than turning steel into gold for someone who didn’t understand all the tunnels and transport systems.