by Elise Kova
Florence looked at the crew. They’d been lovely people, half Ravens, but none had recognized her. The youngest was Arianna’s age and Florence didn’t think it likely that she had any real overlap in the guild with them. If she asked, she knew they would let her stay for the ride back. She could work for her passage and head back to Dortam. Someone needed to look after the flat…
“Flor?” Arianna noticed she hadn’t fallen into step with her and Cvareh. “Are you coming?”
Florence took a deep breath. It expanded her lungs, making more room for the crippling fear that locked her knees in place. Then she exhaled it, and moved forward.
“Yes, sorry.”
Luck had brought her and Ari together, and the past two years had been the best of Florence’s short life. She’d learned more than she ever thought possible. She’d seen new sights. She’d even met a Dragon and run from Riders. Compared to all that, facing Ter.4 should be nothing.
Gripping her bag tightly, Florence descended the gangplank onto the hard poured concrete and stone of the dock. She didn’t look back at Holx III once, their business concluded. Instead, Florence looked at the black skyline that zigzagged against a gray sky. The sounds of engines whirring filled her ears with an uncomfortable din, reminding her of futile hours spent in workshops trying her hardest to connect gearshifts, cranks, and Rivet-designed pistons to axles.
Those milling about the pier paid them no mind. The trio didn’t carry much, only one bag for each of them that was now lighter in the absence of what they had consumed already on their journey. Cvareh was back to wearing his mask, goggles, and hood, bundled up tightly. Arianna covered her face as well, rather than drawing on a mark with a grease pen.
Cvareh had argued about the necessity of it the night before, given how open they had been with the crew, but Arianna was insistent. The crew had been likely to find out the truths of their identities on such a long voyage in confined quarters; appealing to their honesty outright had earned them some endearment even. But people on the street needn’t be the wiser. Furthermore, while the occasional Dragon could be seen in major cities across Loom, it was incredibly uncommon and would attract immediate attention.
The streets of Ter.4.2 were set up in a grid pattern. Much like the naming system of cities across Loom, they were numbered based in the order they were built. It was simple, straightforward, and easier than remembering unnecessary names. The only named streets or cities were the very first, and that was always after the founder of the city or, in the case of Guild cities, the first Vicar of the Guild.
The smell of burning oil was so thick in the air it was heavy on the tongue and the revving of engines echoed off buildings as three-wheeled trikes tore through the streets at breakneck speeds. Ravens shouted and hollered to each other, trading jests and challenges as they wove through the narrow alleyways and slid around turns. Florence was older now than the first time she’d seen the gangs that dominated Ter.4. As a child, she’d been fascinated with the pitted bronze bodies and curving handlebars that wrapped around the leather seats of the trikes. That fascination still existed, alongside her apprehension.
The motor-trikes moved without rails, at speeds regulated by single riders. It was a rite of passage in the Ravens to build your first bike, win your first race, and join one of the gangs that prowled the streets. It had seemed foolish then, the idea of riding such a tiny machine at speeds so fast it could wipe tears from your eyes. She’d seen what accidents had done to riders.
But, then again, now that she was a bit older she could see it was no less reckless than deciding to play with explosives for a living. Adulthood just meant finding the variety of crazy that resonated the most with you and doing it until you died or it killed you—whichever came first.
“Where are we headed?” Florence asked as they wound up an iron spiral stair to the narrow pedestrian catwalks suspended between the ground and the bridged rail above.
“To my place.”
Ari’s words froze Florence mid-step. To her place? Wasn’t their flat in Dortam her place?
“Keep moving, Flor.” Arianna glanced over her shoulder and Florence took the steps two at a time until she was right behind Cvareh again.
“What do you think?” she whispered to the Dragon.
“Me?” He seemed surprised she engaged him.
“Who else?” Florence put on a brave grin, trying to imagine how the city might look to someone who didn’t have the same history with it that she did.
“It’s quite unlike Nov—anything I’ve ever seen before.” He caught himself mid-sentence, giving a quick glance to the crowded walk around them. “Why is it so different from Dortam? Or Ter.5.2?”
“Every territory has evolved to fit the needs of its guild. Dortam and Ter.5 have much more condensed cities, usually protected by mountains, to make use of flatter land for explosive testing.” Talking about Ter.5 and the Revolvers, even for a moment, made her feel worlds better. “Whereas Ter.4 is the home of the Ravens. The ground is reserved for experimental vehicles. Trains run above. Airship platforms are up top. There are also the walkways we’re on now that kind of weave between all of them.”
“And the Underground?”
“Shh,” Florence hissed. She glanced at the group of vested men who had walked by. Only one glanced back at them. “You don’t speak about it.”
“Why?” Cvareh obliged, but seemed honestly confused.
“Because of what happens there.” Florence gave him a small grin. “Because it’s difficult to regulate and that means that we don’t want Dragons to know about it.”
Cvareh snorted in amusement.
Arianna led them to a quieter section of town. The closest station was far enough away that the train whistle had to echo to get to them. The alleyways below were too narrow for even a trike. It was purely residential, which meant that most people weren’t milling about during normal working hours.
Florence knew they’d arrived the moment she saw the lock on the door. It was handedly Arianna’s craft, though it was less sophisticated than the turning locks she was used to from her teacher. This had a series of dials in which Ari entered a four-digit pass code.
She couldn’t help but notice that Ari entered the code with them both watching. The woman didn’t rest herself against the wall between them, or quickly turn the tumblers to prevent her or Cvareh from seeing. 1-0-7-4. Florence remembered the number. Ari either placed little value in the abode, or she wanted Florence and Cvareh to feel as though they had the ability to come and go easily. It was a notable shift from the Arianna Florence had first met, who had made her earn the ability to know the key into their flat in Dortam.
The flat was small—one room with a heavy layer of dust atop everything. The air was stale and the curtains had been shot through by time, small holes in the threadbare fabric letting in winks of light from the outside.
There was one large daybed, pushed against the far wall. A drafting table was squeezed in at its foot. Schematics done in Arianna’s hand had been pinned up all around. To the right, by the small galley kitchen and only separated room—the bathroom—was a long workbench. Empty shelves lined the wall above it. The wood grain showed remnants of chemical burns and stains.
Ari’s eyes went there first, and time seemed to stop for the woman. Cvareh poked his nose around, curiously drawn to the faded schematics and blueprints. Florence remained by her teacher.
“You never told me you had a place in Ter.4.2.” She closed the door gently behind her.
“There wasn’t a need. I never thought I’d be returning to it.” Arianna shrugged half-heartedly.
Florence took in the one-room flat again. It wasn’t much, certainly. But owning property—any property—in the major cities of Loom wasn’t easy. You had to be a graduate of a guild, at least, and usually preference was given to masters. Of which Ari was one, Florence reminded herself. But the woman was young, unmarked, and had to have achieved her mastery after the Five Guilds fell to the Dragons—
meaning there hadn’t been much time for her to secure her own living arrangements on the merits of her guild rank.
“We’ll only be here briefly.” Florence didn’t know who Arianna was struggling so hard to convince. “By tomorrow nightfall, we’ll be moving again. By the dawn we’ll be gone.”
“How do you expect to break into the floating prison?” Florence crossed over to the bed and flopped down on it. Stale smelling and worn, it was far more comfortable than her bunk on the ship, and she instantly felt tired.
Cvareh wandered to the opposite side of the room, running his hand along the workbench. Ari turned and Florence expected a thrashing, given her look. But she kept it to herself, letting Cvareh continue to explore. The self-restraint was new.
“I’ll go to the port tonight, find a boat worth stealing. I imagine the guards of the prison do leave it now and then. If they go anywhere, it’s likely they’ll haunt the bars and parlors dockside, close enough to leave if they want to.”
“Information gathering.” Florence knew Arianna’s process. She just wasn’t used to the woman only taking a few hours to do it.
“Then, tomorrow, when it’s dark and quiet, I’ll head out to the fortress. Use my line to get in.” Arianna leaned against the door. Despite being in her own home, she looked incredibly uncomfortable.
Florence blinked, trying to fathom the logic. It seemed remarkably clumsy for the woman whose moniker was the White Wraith, and she’d say as much if it kept Arianna from rushing to her death to save two people whom Florence felt no urgency to see. “The walls of the floating fortress are at least three hundred peca tall. You don’t have a line that long.”
“I’ll have to combine two,” Arianna agreed, clearly having already given the matter thought.
“Even if you can use your magic to do that, and the line is strong enough to hold, and you still have enough magic to work your winch box… It would take you almost a minute to travel that distance. How can you possibly think you’ll go unnoticed from the guards for that long?”
“It’ll take me twenty-five seconds, actually, to travel the distance,” Arianna corrected.
The woman and her numbers.
“And I’m not worried about the guards noticing me.”
“Why?” Florence knew Arianna wouldn’t make the statement unless she truly believed it.
“Because time will be on my side.” Ari gave Cvareh a pointed look.
All color seemed to drain from the man’s face. He scowled and balled his hands into fists. “You cannot possibly be serious.”
“But I am.” Ari grinned madly.
And Florence jumped to her feet as the Dragon lunged for her teacher.
18. ARIANNA
“Because time will be on my side.” Ari looked to Cvareh for confirmation that he understood her meaning. A dark shadow passed over the man’s face. Good. He understands perfectly.
“You cannot possibly be serious.” He shifted as he spoke the words and Ari did the same. Barely perceptible movements braced them both for the storm that was on their horizon.
“But I am.” She welcomed the lightning that sparked in his eyes.
He moved on the crack of thunder that heralded the tempest that had been looming between them. His long fingers scooped up the neckline of her coat, tensing. His claws shot out, ripping holes through the otherwise well kept garb of the White Wraith.
“Are you mad?”
“Maybe.” Arianna gave a quick look to Florence for the girl to ease away, she could handle herself. She also didn’t know what Cvareh was about to do. If Flor got wrapped into the scrap, she’d never forgive herself for it.
“You know how well that went last time. It set the Riders right on our tail,” he snarled, his nose nearly touching hers.
“And if I recall correctly, you were fine. We killed one Rider and evaded the others.” Her hands were at her side, ready to grab for her daggers if need be. “And we would’ve lost them entirely if you hadn’t gone rogue at Ter.5.2.”
“Don’t make this out to be that I owe you.” Cvareh’s tongue was heavy with the sudden spike in his magic. “If anything, you owe me for giving you the opportunity of a boon.”
Ari laughed off the influence he was trying to synthetically apply on her. She threw her own magic behind her words, just to make a point that they seemed to be too evenly matched to sway each other falsely. “Hardly. But you must do this for me if you hope to see the outcome of that boon. I cannot get you to the Alchemists’ Guild otherwise.”
The Dragon threw her away. Ari shifted her weight from the balls of her feet to her heels, stabilizing quickly. He looked at her with a fearsome sort of wrath.
Good. She wanted to see his true colors. She wanted him to see hers. She wanted to smash down the foolish walls they’d allowed to go up between them on the ridiculous notion of etiquette.
“If you cannot, then relinquish the boon contract. You’ve met your match. Forfeit gracefully.”
“Forfeit is something I don’t know how to do.” Ari advanced on him this time. “I do not give up. I do not relent. I will have my boon or I will die.”
“Arianna!” Florence’s concerned interjection was lost.
Arianna’s world had been reduced to Cvareh. Their magic pressed against each other. Their muscles rippled with palpable conflict over fight or flight.
“Yield, Dragon, and do this for me,” she whispered, as quiet as a knife through skin.
“You…” His slitted pupils dilated and thinned. “You insult me at every turn. You shame my name knowingly. And then you expect to use my magic as you need without recourse? Like I am some mule at your beck and call?”
He was angry. But he was equally hurt, and that was compelling. “My, you taste your own kind’s medicine and discover it too foul to be palatable? How unbecoming.”
“What?”
“To insult someone at every turn, to demean and degrade them, and then to expect them to give up their knowledge, their skill, without recourse? Does that not sound like what the Dragons have done to Loom since our worlds crossed?”
“Don’t try to make this the same.”
“Isn’t it, though?”
“It’s not and you know it.”
“Do I?” Arianna insisted.
“We are people, not worlds. And you commit the faults you blame me for. You judge me for the actions of my entire race. You see me as a Dragon before you see me as a man. You ignore my good will and attempts at peace, only looking for banners of war between my words. And when you find none, you invent them, so that I better fit your expectations.”
Her hands found no life, and her tongue refused her mental quips.
“Silence? The great and infallible Arianna has finally been silenced? Finally.”
Arianna studied the man. His broad chest rose and fell steadily in time with the deep breaths that were failing to keep his anger at bay. He was genuinely offended. She searched his face and eyes for a trace of deceit.
She found none, though she hadn’t seen any all those years ago, either.
“What do you want at the Alchemists’ Guild?”
He huffed in exasperation at the inquiry—he’d already answered that question and they both knew it. So she braved an honest question: “How do you think the Alchemists will help you overthrow the Dragon King?”
“I stole something from him, something that could give Loom a fighting chance.” His hand moved subconsciously to the folio he never let leave his sight. Arianna had suspected its contents were essential, but now he confirmed it openly.
“And you need an Alchemist to interpret or make that ‘something’?”
He nodded.
Arianna sighed heavily. “If all is as you say, if you are Loom’s ally, then help me do this. Show me that you are not my enemy, that you are the bigger man you claim to be. Prove to me that I can trust you by trusting me first.”
“I have no reason to trust you at all.”
“That’s rather the point.” Ari
anna eased away from the man, leaning against Eva’s old workbench. The wood was familiar under her fingers, soothing. She knew every burn mark and acid splash across its surface.
“You walk us to certain death.” There was resignation in his tone.
“I do not.”
“Arrogance and confidence are not the same, but both will get you killed.”
The words were louder than the crack of a foreman’s bell, echoing through her ears with the same mind-numbing resonance. Ari looked at the man before her, gripping the table to brace herself against the torrent of emotions that ripped her from toes to ears. His statement had unleashed a ghost within her. Not the Wraith she claimed to be, but a genuine shade from a time long past. Arianna didn’t like believing in things she couldn’t quantify. But she’d always believed in that woman.
“I will put my trust in you, if you put your trust in me.” The mechanisms of her mind were slow and squealing in warning. “And we’ll both make it through this.”
It was quiet for a long moment, neither of them seeing the present. Cvareh sought the future that was just beyond the horizon, as she drowned in the past.
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I? And we’re wasting time arguing about it.”
Arianna nodded and set herself to organizing their supplies across the table. She needed to be as prepared as she could in the short time she had. She needed to be over-prepared, because the last time she had made such a declaration, it had turned out to be a lie.
19. LEONA
The very air itself was different on Loom. It was heavier, as if it carried the essence of the rocks and metals that the people themselves placed so much value in. It was warmer also, and Leona was certain that it made every Fen certifiably mad to wear so many buttons and layers and ruffles.