The Rebels of Gold (Loom Saga #3)(115)

Another snap of magic. Another ache between her temples. Cvareh was holding the Dono’s arm, bleeding him from the wrist.

Yveun reached for the man, his hand stopping just before Cvareh’s neck. As soon as Cvareh released the Dono’s flesh, he took another sharp inhale of air. Arianna’s ears barely had time to hear the start of Cvareh’s lungs filling before time stopped again.

It was like watching two fighters moving through completely different sequences of events. When Cvareh was in one place, he suddenly appeared in another. It was jarring and sustained purely on Yveun’s own magic.

Arianna shifted her gun in her hands, ready to kill. Even by imbibing off the Dragon King, she could see the toll stopping time took on Cvareh’s body. He wouldn’t last much longer as he was.

Exhaustion lead to mistakes, and Cvareh let go of time a second too early. His jaw snapped shut on air; Yveun pulled his hand back, plunging his claws forward to Cvareh’s chest. Cvareh tumbled backward at the last moment.

Yveun was on the offensive, like a sea monster that had spotted a lone ship. Cvareh dodged and sidestepped, but he did not stop time again. He was conserving his energy.

Arianna caught Cvareh’s eye. The distraction was just enough for Yveun to land a clean hit, sending Cvareh reeling, blood pouring from his shoulder. He stumbled backward, and half-fell into her.

By the time she realized what he’d done, time was stopped. Arianna gripped onto him, holding him, so she would not be pulled from the pocket of time he’d created for her. Her eyes met his, and Cvareh looked at her with a mouth pressed shut into a firm line. Cvareh rose his free hand, blood still pouring from his shoulder where his magic was failing to heal him, and pointed at Yveun.

Finally, it clicked.

“Y-You want me to kill him?”

Cvareh nodded.

It was a kindness, a gift unlike any he had ever given her. Together, they walked. Arianna clutched him tightly with one hand and drew her dagger from the other. She’d dreamed about savoring this moment—of what Yveun’s face would look like when she killed him slowly, purposefully.

But as she had told Florence, she was not the one destined to kill the Dragon King, at least not in the eyes of the world. So, unceremoniously, just outside time, with Dragons looking on, seeing with unseeing eyes, Arianna carved out the heart of Yveun Rok’Oji Dono.

Cvareh shuddered and quickly yanked her away, half dragging her back to where she’d stood before. Arianna watched as he released her and then—

Time snapped back into place.

There was Cvareh, standing over the fallen corpse of Yveun Dono, heart in hand. He collapsed to his knees over the dead Dragon, coughing blood. Arianna wanted to run to him. She wanted to chew the King’s heart herself and spit it into Cvareh’s mouth if she must.

But he had given Arianna her moment. Now, she gave him his.

With almost frail weariness, Cvareh raised the heart to his mouth and plunged his teeth into it. He tore off pieces ravenously, snarling at the Rok Riders.

They all watched as their new king bathed in the blood of his predecessor.





Coletta


This was the day the world stood still.

Coletta was among her flowers when the Riders returned. She stood, feeling frozen in time herself, as they recounted the magic Cvareh had been hiding in him all along. The men and women regarded her as the Rok’Oji now, but they looked on with skeptical eyes even as they said it.

How could one so frail be the Oji? she could almost hear them say. She had served a purpose between her and Yveun. He was the visible strength, and she the invisible.

She had never been made for the grand stage.

Coletta went to her laboratory and sat on a bench. She tilted her head back, staring at the blue sky that peeked at her from between the rooftops of the estate and the foliage. It was as if the opulence of the manor threatened to suffocate her. It was as if the vines of her plants wanted to strangle her, for all that she had loved and nurtured them. It was as if the sky itself mocked her, reminding her of the new world order that had been thrust upon them, the future stolen from her claws.

There was no word from Fae, and even if the woman was still alive and somehow proved to be successful, too much momentum was stacked against Rok to have the assassination of one rebel leader deal a crushing blow to Loom. Xin would prevail, which mean Loom would as well, no matter what happened now. A new world was being designed, one that she no longer had a part in crafting.

Coletta sighed softly, and closed her eyes. It had been a good run, while it lasted.

With her by Yveun’s side, they had been unstoppable for more than half a century. They were the last in a long line of noble and fearsome Rok leaders. Just over a thousand years of dominance was now coming to an end. But none of Rok’s former glory mattered any longer. History was written by those still alive to hold pens. Her magnificent house would be cast as a cruel, tyrannous rule overthrown by a noble insurgence. They would be painted as the last holdover of an era steeped in respect for tradition that was long gone, an era overthrown by engineered perfection.

It was a dishonor too unbearable to conceive.

Coletta moved to the back corner where certain concoctions were locked away. She had one more obligation to her home and house. They would never sing her songs, would never abide by her as Oji. Her life was forfeit. So, before any upstart could challenge and kill her, Coletta would play one final, masterful stroke.