The Rebels of Gold (Loom Saga #3)(55)
Returning this time felt different. This time, the Underground was filled to the brim with life and noise.
Activity echoed through the caverns, filling every available space and making the unseen terrors lurking in the shadows slightly less terrifying. Those terrors were the first thing Florence had asked after when she had arrived at Ter.4—had there been any Wretch attacks? She had been surprised to hear that the answer was no. Usually, the Wretches used sound to track easy prey.
The Fenthri that now occupied the tunnels and pathways of the Underground were anything but. They were armed to the teeth and settling in better than Florence could have expected. If anything, she wondered if the Wretches were afraid of them. After all, she reasoned, the influx of Fenthri might sound to a Wretch like one giant beast. If they could be fearsome to Wretches, then perhaps all of them together might add up to something strong enough to slay Dragons, too.
Florence started up the sloping walkway. The new inhabitants of the Underground had made fairly quick work of setting up the rocky tunnels and antechambers as home. Most of the main tunnels had been outfitted with a patchwork of illumination—from glovis eyes to bioluminescence.
She had been given a lantern that now guided her through the dark tunnel. Those building out the infrastructure—no doubt Rivets—hadn’t made it to this corner of the Underground yet. Florence suspected it would take some time, if they ever reached this far at all.
The eerie glow of another lantern winked into existence from the darkness before her. It grew into the shape of a man with a Revolver tattoo on his cheek. He nodded and continued onward; it was the only assurance Florence had that she was headed in the right direction.
After what seemed like forever but was likely only about three minutes—darkness distorted time in weird ways—the tunnel opened into a large cavern. The ceiling was obscured by blackness that clung to it like heavy clouds, but Florence was struck by a sensation of spaciousness above her—a rare commodity in the Underground. In the center of the room there was a giant metal basket, within which countless glowing orbs rested. Florence tried to make sense of what the basket contained—not glovis eyes, nor typical bioluminescence. Whatever it was gave off enough light to bathe most of the cavern in a pale, bluish-green glow.
Light and shadow carved out silhouettes of people hunched over faintly glinting gun parts. Some lay out on bed rolls, perhaps sleeping, or just wiling away the boredom that accompanied waiting for an attack from above or below. A few took notice of her, but none seemed to recognize her. If they did, they didn’t seem to care.
Florence progressed through the room, looking for someone familiar. A few of the faces she recognized, though none by name. In that moment, Florence made the decision to move in with the rest of the Revolver journeymen, rather than the more comfortable accommodations above she’d been offered by the vicars. While it was true that her status was unofficial, the Vicar Revolver had called her one of the guild. Even if he’d only done so to manipulate Arianna, she’d twist it to her advantage.
In the far corner, separate from everyone else, torchlight painted a head of white hair a soft blue color. Shannra had set out her own lantern, hunching over it to work on her weapons.
“I’m sorry I’m late for today’s lesson.” The other woman jolted as if she’d received a physical shock. Her head whipped around and she looked up at Florence. “Careful you don’t break your neck.”
“Or have a heart attack. Neither are implausible when one sees a ghost.” Shannra’s mouth cracked into a smile. The woman with the moonlit hair stood, embracing Florence without hesitation. “I was worried about you.”
“I told you: You have nothing to worry about.” It was awkward to leave her arms by her sides, so Florence wrapped them around Shannra’s waist.
“So it would seem,” Shannra admitted. “How was the journey here? No issues?”
“No, no issues.” It was easy to get lost in the concern so evident in the other woman’s eyes—a mix of both elation and relief.
“I have something I need to ask you.”
“It sounds important.” Shannra sat, motioning for Florence to join her.
“I would like you to tell me if it is.” Florence debated where to start. In her satchel, she carried a notebook—one Arianna had meticulously transcribed for her. It was the copy of a ledger Louie had her steal from Holx, a ledger containing information on gold storage across Loom. Florence thought about going directly to the Dove with the information, and she still might. But she first wanted to see if Shannra knew anything about the matter. “How much do you know about Louie’s . . . operations?”
“This again?” Shannra’s mouth fell into a frown. “Is it too much to ask if you will ever be capable of putting aside my affiliation with Louie?”
“For now, yes,” Florence answered honestly. “But how much you help me can only quicken that process.”
Shannra sighed. “Very well. What is it?”
“Louie wanted something stolen in Holx, and I want to know why.”
“Louie steals lots of things. I can’t claim to know the reasoning behind every one.” Shannra ran a hand through her wild white hair. “Maybe if you’re more specific . . .?”
“He took the most current ledger from the Ravens’ Guild that contains information about all the gold storage locations across Loom.” Florence studied Shannra’s face. Her surprise seemed genuine. “Do you know why he would want this information?”