The Rebels of Gold (Loom Saga #3)(38)

“Sounds like an excellent discussion for the Tribunal.” Shannra smiled at them both. In a display of boldness, she grabbed Florence’s hand, squeezing it tightly before stepping away. Then, speaking only to Florence: “I’ll see you later, yes?”

Florence could feel Arianna’s stare creeping between her vertebrae. “Perhaps. We’ll see.”

Shannra nodded, and strode ahead into the main atrium.

“Florence . . .” Arianna’s voice was full of caution. “We have to be careful about her.”

“I know, Ari.”

“She’s one of Louie’s.”

“Ari, I know.” Florence rearranged her words so maybe they’d sink in better.

“What sort of things has she been asking you?”

“Don’t worry so much. Louie is on our side.”

“Flor—”

“Ari, let it drop,” Florence demanded with a hard stare. Arianna opened her mouth to protest but quickly abandoned the idea. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

But I don’t think you know what you’re doing, Florence finished silently. What did she have to do to prove she was capable of organizing herself and others, of defending Loom, of being an active contributor to their future? The more time that passed, the more Florence began to feel like nothing would do it.

She would forever be a student in Arianna’s eyes—a ward.

Florence adjusted her top hat and tilted her face downward. She needed this time to compose herself.

The tribunal room was mostly full by the time she arrived. Florence tugged at her pocket watch as she descended the stairs, popping open the repaired latch to look at the hands within.

“Ah, Florence, what time were we supposed to start again?” Powell asked from where he sat.

She pulled out the pocket watch again. “About another two minutes.”

“Like I told you.” The Vicar Revolver folded his arms where he sat. “Don’t know why you felt the need to ask her.”

“Just getting another data point, Vicar Gregory, no need to get so bothered.” Powell waved off the other man’s short fuse.

“Florence, take your seat,” her vicar demanded.

“I had a question about today’s agenda.” Powell still hadn’t sat down.

“A question you can ask me, as another vicar,” the Gregory insisted.

Florence glanced between the two men and finally ended with a long look at Powell. She hated the feeling of being relegated to the corner when she had something worthwhile to contribute. At least, she thought she did.

“Very well.” Powell spoke as Florence stepped up the risers to where journeymen Revos sat. She should be grateful; technically, she shouldn’t even be in the room. “What are we talking about today, Vicar Gregory?”

“There’s only one thing we need to discuss.” Gregory nodded in Arianna’s direction. “The lack of schematics in her hands.”

“Perhaps we can discuss the lack of a manufacturing line that would necessitate the need for schematics.” Arianna’s remark was dry.

“You will need to share them with us eventually.” The vicar grew more relentless by the day. Florence could only do so much to quell Arianna’s frustration at the fact. If only Gregory would listen to her . . . and if not her, then Arianna at least.

“In all my years, I have never seen a Revolver so interested in a Rivet’s work,” Willard jumped into the fray as he entered the room. “Warms my heart to see you taking such an interest. Now that we are reverting the guilds back to a system of choice, perhaps you wish to come have a seat in the back behind me, and allow another Revolver to assume command? You seem to have a promising student with a talent for uniting us, just there in the back row.”

Gregory looked over his shoulder directly at her. Florence leveled her eyes against him and fought every urge to look away. She was not going to be submissive, not when she’d done nothing wrong, and especially not when another vicar was standing up for her.

“Ah, Vicar Dove,” Powell spoke loudly the second Gregory opened his mouth, cutting off whatever remark the man had been ready to levy against her. “Not a moment too soon.”

The Vicar Raven waved her hand, assuming her seat with a yawn. “Don’t wait on my account.”

Florence resisted the urge to point out that it wasn’t much of a Vicar Tribunal if all the vicars were not present at each meeting.

“Well, I have a question for you, so waiting was a necessity. It’s with regards to harvesting these magical flowers . . .” Powell started.

“As I have said previously, the Ravens are glad to assist.”

Assist how? Florence wanted to ask. She expected some resistance; not everything would go smoothly. But she had foolishly believed that all those present on Loom would band together. It still seemed that the selfish nature of mortals won out from time to time, even in the face of certain devastation.

“I’m a bit curious on the details surrounding the how, Vicar Raven?” Florence asked from the back of the room, drawing all eyes to her. She wanted to hear if Arianna was right, and she’d play dumb if she had to. “After all, I left the Ravens’ Guild. I’m not sure how it all works, getting something from Nova . . .”