The Rebels of Gold (Loom Saga #3)(43)
“What in the five guilds was that?” Florence panted.
“Let me go, Flor.” The machine of her mind was clanking loudly; too many wrenches had been thrown in it from different directions. Arianna couldn’t be sure what the output would be if she continued to be pushed.
“No, not until you give me some explanation.”
Arianna stared down at the girl who was holding her in place. In half a second, she could wrest herself free by breaking or severing Florence’s arm in the process. But Arianna would never intentionally hurt Florence.
“Explanation of what?”
“Why did you tell me not to shoot? Why did you offer peace?” Florence shook her head. Arianna knew she wouldn’t like the next words out of Florence’s mouth by the look the girl gave her. “Whose side are you on?”
“I’d like to hear this answer as well.” Gregory and two other vicars stood with a small but growing group who had made it in from the outside.
“I owe none of you an explanation.” They were putting her under a dangerous amount of tension with their demands and their idiocy. “If you can’t see the logic behind my actions, then none of you are fit to lead Loom.”
When he spoke again, Gregory’s voice was loud enough for all those assembled to hear. “How dare you. You’ve been nothing but unhelpful this entire time. If you’re on our side, help us.”
Arianna stared stubbornly back at him, her mouth pressed shut.
“As the Vicar Revolver, I want to know why you told a Revo not to take her mark.”
Florence’s eyes were torn away from Arianna at being called a Revolver by the vicar himself.
“Don’t call her a Revolver when it suits you to do so,” Arianna sneered. Her rage compounded. “That’s low, even for you, Gregory.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you really want to have this conversation? I know the rumors about the shots you take in practice. The faulty canisters you’d claim were made by your colleagues.” Arianna had carefully vetted Revolvers from the moment she knew Florence would need a teacher, and Gregory’s name had come up as a master with some flexible perceptions of morality—especially when it came to Dragons. He’d been a little too flexible for Arianna’s comfort then, and now.
“Lies . . .” the vicar whispered.
“Say it a bit stronger so maybe someone will believe you.” Arianna shook her head at the sad little man. “If Florence had fired, it would’ve done nothing but provoke the king’s wrath.”
“Something we already had.”
“And now we have something more: three days assured when we don’t have to worry about a Dragon attack.” Powell, ever the voice of reason. Arianna liked him more and more by the second. She used the distraction to jerk free of Florence’s grasp. The girl didn’t make a move to recover her. “We have a timeline for when our preparations need to be complete.”
“‘Ready’ may be a generous word,” Willard interjected. “Nothing can be made in three days with regards to the Philosopher’s Box.”
“Three days to plan, fortify.” She’d have to spell it out, apparently.
“Fortify with what?” Gregory snapped back. “There are no weapons.”
Arianna sighed at the lot of them acting like children.
“Let us resume the Tribunal,” Florence announced suddenly. She looked around at the crowd that had filled the hall, journeymen and initiates watching the vicars bicker like children. Arianna took a step away and Florence caught her as she was about to turn. “You too.”
Arianna was picking her battles, and she chose not to fight the girl on the matter.
Once more, the doors closed on the meeting hall. But the room was significantly less full. Only the vicars—who all stood—and a handful of masters clustered around the lowest floor. Arianna sat herself on the edge of one of the higher rows by the door, more than ready to make her escape at the first possible opportunity.
The vicars continued to squabble. Ethel withdrew from the conversation entirely, whispering to the other Alchemists. Willard tried to appeal to everyone’s collective sense of logic; Dove preached action, backed up by Gregory until she refused to agree to let him train all Ravens with a weapon. Powell looked lost and frustrated every time he failed as a peacekeeper.
Arianna rested her elbow on her knee, her chin in her palm, watching the chaos unfold.
“None of this would be an issue if she—” Gregory threw a finger in her direction and with it reminded everyone else that she was still in the room “—had merely given us the schematics for the box from the beginning.” Arianna wondered if his accusation was reason enough to kill him where he stood.
“How many times will you take that shot at me before you realize it’s missing?” Arianna quipped.
Gregory’s hand was at his gun. Let him fight her. She’d taken down Dragons twice his size and skill.
“Even if she had—” Willard started.
“Even if I had we would be in the same spot.” Arianna spoke over the man who was well her senior in years and experience. But she had no remorse. She didn’t want to be at the forefront, but if she was to be thrust there, then she would speak for herself. Gregory opened his mouth to speak, and she spoke over him as well. “If I had given you the schematics from the first day, it would have taken weeks to set up any kind of manufacturing to roll out on the scale we need. And that’s ignoring the fact that a key component cannot even be found on our world. A problem that the Vicar Raven still has not solved.”