The Dragons of Nova (Loom Saga #2)(45)
“Nothing…” The taste of her blood was across his tongue at the mere thought. Had he known all along? Had he sensed it from the first moment he’d met her, the faint aromas that always lingered upon the woman by the very essence of her magic? The smell he so loved was within her veins.
It didn’t matter what he knew before. He needed her now, more than ever. He wanted to sink his canines into her flesh. He wanted to smear her blood across their flesh, mingling with his. He wanted to drown in her magic. He wanted—
“What may I get started for you?” The tea master was a welcome interruption.
“Whatever is in season,” Cvareh mumbled by means of reply. His eyes were on the woman who was easing herself into one of the three seats around the table. Cvareh closed the distance between them once more, pulling his chair slightly closer in the process of sitting. “Do you understand tea?”
“Brewed herbal remedies for colds and other such things are found on Loom.”
He couldn’t help his laughter, even though he knew it was going to draw out her ire. “This is purely for pleasure, not for medicinal purposes.”
“Everything the Dragons do seems to be for pleasure.” She stared at the garden and while he would’ve hoped for a spark of interest or inspiration, the mounting confusion that’d been lining her brow remained. “You build for beauty before function. You spend countless hours on adornments. You make noises with your mouth and tools, calling it song, moving to it and calling it dance, but it serves no greater design.” She shook her head in frustration. “You don’t even know where your water comes from.”
He’d nearly forgotten about that anecdote from the morning. “You’re not wrong about those things.”
“But what do you do?” she pressed. “Loom has given the Dragons Gold, gliders, science, mathematics, a true way of understanding the world. We—”
“That is untrue,” he interrupted. “Nova understands the world in a way Loom does not. We understand it through the Twenty Gods above. We understand it through magic.” She pursed her lips together as he continued. “You’re right, we do not craft engines of steam or write arithmetic that can lift people to the skies. But we understand life, a richer meaning for it than on Loom, and we create joy.”
“Xin’Ryu.” A young girl with Tam skin delivered steaming mugs of amber colored liquid. Arianna stared so intensely at her that the child was nearly startled.
“Thank you.” Cvareh dismissed her, sparing her from whatever had Arianna’s vicious interest.
The girl bowed and turned, happy to flee.
“I see where the notion came from,” Arianna whispered.
He couldn’t fathom what she was on about until the woman raised a hand to her cheek. Cvareh hadn’t even noticed the mark. He’d not paid it any credit as he hadn’t his whole life. It was a part of his world, as inconsequential as the icy peaks of the mountains or the never-ending waterfalls. He hadn’t had cause to look at it differently until a Chimera forced him to see it through her eyes. “The tattoos are how we know when someone has left their native House,” he explained.
“Tattoos should be choices, not brands.” She tried to pin him down with a deathly glare.
“These are choices. They choose to leave their house and join a new one. It’s how I and everyone else here knows they are friendly, that they are kin. It is their decision.” He reached out and grabbed her wrist, speaking before she could pull away, “Just as these are.”
Arianna stared at his hand a long moment where it fell over her own tattoos. If her eyes were actual daggers he’d be cut from thumb to cheek. “Unhand me.”
“Explain them.”
“Unhand me,” she repeated, a little louder.
He acquiesced, but only because he did not want to make a scene. His hand was cold in the wake of her warmth. “I had never seen them before. I want to understand.”
She looked away sharply, as if he would vanish because her eyes were no longer on him. He didn’t. And so she was left to gather herself to speak. “We call them link marks. They signify a date of importance regarding... a person.”
And she had three. For whom? He could guess Florence would be one. Her lost lover another… Was another lover the third, perhaps? Even with a short life span and no notion of family, how a Fenthri could forge such a deeply amorous connection with so many people was lost on him.
“You saw when I dropped my illusion.” She massaged her wrist lightly where he had touched it.
“I did. I think they’re beautiful.” He operated on instinct, offering encouragement when in doubt.
She found amusement in that decision. “They are, because they are significant.” Arianna’s purple eyes met his and Cvareh felt helpless in their gaze. “They were choices. For nothing touches my body that isn’t my choice.”
What did that make him?
Cvareh opened his mouth to speak and was interrupted by a velvet-clad man. “Cvareh! I did not expect to find you in the city, my friend.”
“Zurut.” Cvareh stood, embracing the man in greeting. “It was an impromptu trip.”
“Seeing the tailor, no doubt.” The man picked a ribbon on Cvareh’s shoulder with two fingers as though the color that had gone out of vogue could somehow stain his quite lavish and luxe design. “Are you trying to make a new statement?”