There was another door, and another lock, before she was in the actual bunker. One room, not much to consider by any stretch. It looked like more of a storeroom than any kind of living space. Shelves lined every wall and heavy boxes were piled on them, making the long planks sag in the middle. One bulb cast the room in a ghostly light, shadows haunting the corners of the various effects Ari had squirreled away here.
It was more than Florence had seen the first time, which meant Ari had been adding to it in secret. Florence sat herself on one of the boxes in the back corner, resting her timepiece next to her. Ari had told her to retreat here if ever there was a crisis. She’d wait for a good few hours before heading home. Either Ari would meet her here, or she had no idea what was happening in Mercury Town and would be waiting at home when Florence returned.
Florence pushed off the boxes, already unable to handle the boredom. She began poking around, looking for something to occupy her time. She had a sneaking suspicion she was waiting for Ari to come. There was no way an implosion of that size had gone unnoticed. And, if Florence knew anything about her mentor, it was that she wouldn’t be physically able to keep herself from running head-first into certain danger.
6. Cvareh
The King’s Rider still lingered in Cvareh’s mouth. The man tasted like a rose, sickeningly floral. Cvareh clicked his tongue, trying to dislodge the flavor.
“How did you do that?” Arianna demanded from over her shoulder. She led him through the winding alleyways of what he could now only assume was the infamous Mercury Town. It was filthier than the regular streets had been and he had no idea how living creatures could willingly choose to live in such squalor.
“Do what?”
“Break through a corona,” she clarified, turning sharply and running backward a step or two for emphasis.
A man ahead of them froze in his tracks as they came barreling down the alley. Arianna didn’t say anything, just shoved him out of the way as they tore past. The man blubbered, trying to find his thoughts. By the time he could even form the word “Dragon” they were already far enough away that the shout only echoed to them faintly.
“Corona are meant to keep out steel, bullets, blades, weak Chimera magic… My claws are none of those things.”
“I see.” It was the first time he’d witnessed her mind put to action when prejudice wasn’t hindering the winds behind her mental sails. Arianna squinted at him thoughtfully. She kept using new eyes to give him looks he didn’t yet comprehend.
“The other Riders will catch up soon,” he warned.
“How soon?”
“I can’t tell. I can sense their magic growing, but not how near or far.” If they’d been bleeding, he would’ve been able to catch the smell or get a true taste of their power on the wind. But he wasn’t exactly surprised that they had yet to be wounded. The only Fenthri whom Cvareh could see standing a chance against a Rider stood before him.
“Then I must assume the same is true of them and you?” He was surprised when her voice rose slightly on the last word, indicating a question. She was actually asking him things. Quite the sudden change from a few hours earlier.
“As long as we stay ahead of them. And I’m not coughing up more blood anytime soon.” Cvareh wasn’t pleased about her abuse of his powers. He should have known from the moment he told her about it that she would demand he use the ability for her ends, and it’d only taken her a minute to back him into a corner until he felt there was no other option. Why had he told her?
“I won’t need you to stop time again.” She vaulted over a railing and down into a tiny side stair. Cvareh walked around as she whirred dials on a strange looking lock built into the doorway. “We’re here.” Arianna paused, considering him for a long moment. “And you best hope that Florence is too.”
Cvareh knew the outcome of her threat before he could respond. Arianna contained her emotions well. Her face remained impassive, swathed in the unnatural, terrible light of the electric bulbs that lined the tiny stairwell. But he could feel the relief about her, standing so close.
This was one of the many reasons why imbibing from the living was so taboo. If every person’s mind was a locked chest, then their magic was the key. It was the way into a carefully guarded and illogical system, unique to each individual. Letting someone imbibe was allowing them to make a copy of that key. They could open you up and understand you without effort for a length of time after the imbibing. And really, once that understanding was imprinted on the mind, could it ever be forgotten?
Cvareh vowed to himself that he had no interest in understanding this woman as she opened the lock on the second door. She was equal parts intolerable, brash, harsh, improper, and—worst of all—unfashionable. But there was a counterweight to her heart. Something in her magic shone as brightly as starlight as she swept up her ward into a tight embrace. Something about it made the gray skinned Fenthri woman almost… glow.
“Flor! You had me more worried than a Harvester who can’t find their mining pick.”