The Rebels of Gold (Loom Saga #3)(83)

“Did you know it would end like this for you?”

“I couldn’t imagine a better death than at the hands of the best thief and killer I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.” Louie spoke softly, as if to a lover. Arianna wondered if it was the first time the terrible man had been touched by a woman. “Eat my heart, after you cut it out.”

“No,” she whispered against his ear. “I know it’ll taste rotten.”

Arianna plunged the dagger between his ribs. She twisted it, the chorus of shattering bones and ripping tissue harmonizing with his final breath. Louie spit black blood that oozed down her shoulder—a stain on her white coat that she’d wear as a badge of honor.

Arianna plunged her hand into his chest, ripped out his heart, and cast it aside.

She stood, leaving the body of the King of Mercury Town oozing black onto the cold floor of the hangar. She left it as a clear warning to any who found it that the White Wraith had returned to Loom.

She slammed open the door Louie had been blocking with a bang, not caring who heard. The passage back to the guild was a blur that ended with her yanking another door open without warning. Will and Helen jumped to attention, wide-eyed and startled. Arianna leaned against the doorframe, flipping her knife, blood on her shoulder.

“All of Louie’s men—bring them here, now,” she demanded cheerfully. “Try to run and I’ll flay you alive.”

“What?” Helen stuttered.

“We need to do as she says.” Will grabbed Helen’s arm and dragged her from the room. The boy gave Arianna a sidelong look that she reciprocated. She hadn’t forgotten his attempt to warn her on the airship. It may not be enough to save him, but it was enough to keep him alive for the time being.

They returned with three men in tow. Arianna closed the door behind them, appreciating the looks of apprehension each of them wore. She leaned against it, making it clear that no one was getting out without her blessing.

“So, let’s talk about loyalty.” Arianna pointed her dagger to the man with the red ears. “You first.”

“My name is Adam.”

“Fantastic Rok ears, those are. They’re a whisper link, right?”

“To a woman named Topann.”

Continued cooperation would earn him minutes, maybe even hours of life. “And that woman is in the employ of Coletta Rok, the Dragon Queen?”

“Yes.”

“Would you sever the whisper link now if I demanded?”

“Yes.”

“What’s going on?” Helen demanded. “Where’s Louie?”

The child wouldn’t let herself see the obvious. “I killed him for crimes against Loom.”

“You can’t do that!” The girl seemed genuinely distraught.

“Occupational hazard for operating outside the law. Louie knew what he was about.” There were few laws on Loom—Fenthri laws anyway. Most were unspoken, at that. “Don’t commit treason” was a fairly obvious one. Louie’s protégé seemed stunned still, so Arianna pressed the point home. “Helen, I am not the Master Raven and will never turn a blind eye to treason against Loom. As loathe as I am to kill talent, I dislike those who work against Loom much more.”

The child pressed her lips shut.

“Louie liked deals. So how about this? I won’t kill you all, and you—and everyone else who was loyal to Louie—work for me now. Whatever he paid you, I’ll pay.”

“Sounds more than fair, boss.” Adam was the first to speak, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. The idea clearly didn’t bother him the slightest.

“Count us in.” Will spoke for himself and Helen. The girl seemed to have a moment of protest, but she had the sense to swallow it.

“Cross me and die—”

Adam held up a hand. She arched her eyebrows at being silenced but permitted him to continue. “We all know what you can do. Would rather work for the Queen of Wraiths than the King of Mercury Town anyway.”

Queen of Wraiths. That was new. But she’d killed Louie, which meant she’d get his title according to Dragon law. Arianna didn’t bother hiding a smirk.

“First things first, then. How was Louie communicating back to Ter.4? I demand word on Florence.”





Cvareh


The streets of Napole were empty.

Restaurants were quiet enough to lure the rats out in search of food that had been left at tables—unpaid for, uneaten. Gaming parlors were still, decks unshuffled and wheels unspun. The tasting rooms for both wine and tea were, for the first time in the history of the capital city of Ruana, void of patrons.

Cvareh appreciated the reprieve from the chaos that had raged through the night. Hundreds of people, his people, had relocated up the river that ran down the center of Ruana. The order to flee was met with trepidation, but he was surprised by how many people gave him their faith and trusted in his orders.

“Now what?” Cain whispered. There was no need for discretion, but it suited the stillness that pressed in around them.

“Now, we go home.” Cvareh took one last look at the building before them.

It was the old Xin Manor, the estate that had once been the most prestigious structure on all of Ruana but had languished in Petra’s time as her focus had shifted to the new manor along the Western ridge. This had been his home when he was a boy. It was where his father died; in the calm before the calamity, he could almost pick up the scent of his father’s blood from where Petra had ripped his beating heart from his chest.