The Rebels of Gold (Loom Saga #3)(5)

“Seems an easy assumption.” It was now her turn to prevent her lips from twitching in annoyance. “The Dragon King ordered the guilds destroyed.”

“Destroyed,” she repeated involuntarily, as though it would make more sense if she said it again herself, slowly. It didn’t.

“Destroyed.” He echoed her horror in what was notably the first time they’d agreed on something. “For our insolence. The Harvesters were the first and they were hit the hardest. From what I hear, most of the masters were at the guild for a vote when the King’s Riders dropped the bombs. The Alchemists were next. They lost their hall and at least a third of their members.

“The Revolvers . . .” Louie paused, as if offering a moment of silence to the noble fools of the weaponry guild. “They’d fought it from the start.”

“They sought to protect Loom from their own mechanizations,” she murmured.

“They quickly realized there weren’t many options, and less time,” Louie continued.

“They killed themselves.”

“In a blaze of glory. It was an explosion befitting a funeral for the Vicar Revolver himself.”

“The Ravens? Rivets?” It was terrible news atop terrible news. Still, she wanted to know the fate of her guild.

“Ravens were spared, thanks to the Revolver’s efforts. The Rivets were hit, but the Riders didn’t have the same firepower to raze them. Bent but not broken, from what I hear.”

Ari took a moment just to breathe. The Rivets guild, in all its gorgeous mechanical glory, still ticked along. “And Florence?”

“Ah, yes, Loom’s champion.”

Arianna tried to keep her face passive—just the facts. But judging by Louie’s reaction as he spoke, she failed. At last, she acquiesced; her hand had been shown for what it was. “She’s alive then?”

“She thrives.” He paused, clearly for dramatic effect. “So says my confidant.”

“Confidant?” Arianna asked cautiously, though she didn’t know why. She already knew what game Louie was playing at. He wanted the box and proximity to power; he wanted her to play along. Putting a loaded gun right next to Florence was the frustratingly perfect move.

“I sent a good friend of mine to her, just to help see things set up properly on Ter.0. After all, Florence is the one who got the Vicar Harvester to call the Tribunal.”

“There’s to be another Vicar Tribunal?”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Louie massaged his knees and Arianna wondered if they ailed the man. She could only speculate about his age . . . but he must be well into his forties, practically ancient for a Fenthri. “Children who have never even stepped foot on Ter.0 will be caucusing there for the first time to determine the fate of the world. Reminds you of the old days, doesn’t it?”

“Take me to her, to Florence.”

“I don’t think you’re in much of a position to make demands, Arianna.”

“You were willing to make a deal before.” She had to speak his language, stick to safe territory, stick to business.

“Give me access to the schematics for the Philosopher’s Box and I will take you anywhere in this wide world you want to go. Even back up to Nova.”

“Florence,” she repeated firmly.

“The box?”

He was relentless. And even though Arianna knew the answer, she asked the question anyway. “Why do you want it?”

“Reasons that I think should be obvious.”

And they were.

There was a time when he who owned the gold owned the power. But such a time was ending. Now, Loom and Nova stood on a new precipice, an age where power came from those who could manufacture weapons in the shape of people that bled gold. There was abject disgust at the notion that she would help usher in such an age.

But it was an age Loom had been headed toward since the first Chimera. If it hadn’t been her, it would’ve been someone else.

“If I agree, you’ll take me to her?”

“You have my word.” Louie put his hand over his vested heart. “It’s bad for business if I go back on my deals. Plus, we both have far, far more to gain by being friends.”

“If I agree, you’ll do as I say?”

“Within reason.”

She settled back against the harvesting table, looking at him with narrowed eyes. She had to get something out of this, for the time being. There was no possible way she’d give Louie unrestricted access to the Philosopher’s Box. For as long as she could manage, she’d regulate who knew what.

“On Nova, there is a flower for the Lord of Luck. This flower has four petals . . .” Her voice trailed off for a moment and Arianna thought back to her night with Cvareh on the island. She wanted to feel the same anger she felt toward him previously, but it was already weakening into an uncomfortable question: What are we? “Be my Lord of Luck here on Loom and grant me four wishes. Four things, whatever I design to help the rebellion, to help Loom, in the coming months. And when we are finished, you will have your schematics.”

“I’m not a Dragon.” Louie chuckled. “I think what you seek is a boon.”

“I actually already have one of those. So I suppose you could call me a collector of sorts . . .” Arianna spread her lips and barred her teeth like a ravenous Dragon. “Plus, a boon is only one wish. I want four of you.”