“Then it should be no problem for him to attend my summons.”
“Actually, it is.” Petra’s triumphant smile returned. She knew she had the upper hand. If they’d had anything they would’ve been out with it, and she was going to stick to her idiotic story until they did, it seemed. “He is in solitary meditation, and will not leave until he has heard the guiding words of our Lord. I’m sure you understand the importance of seeking the will of our House patron, Dono.”
“Quite.”
“Why the sudden interest in Cvareh? Would you like to employ him as well?” Petra asked.
“I believe him to be involved in a crime.” One would expect such a claim from their supreme leader to silence Petra and wipe the smug grin off her face, but she just kept smiling.
“How ghastly. But I’m sure my dearest Cvareh has not had any part in it.”
The King leaned back in his throne. “We will see, won’t we? If you are lying, there will be grave consequences on your whole House.”
“Your glory is all ends House Xin seeks.” Petra’s words were poetic, pretty, and utterly insincere.
“I’m sure.” The King waved a long-fingered hand.
Petra bowed, heeding the dismissal with grace. She spun like a dancer and strode out the room with long, measured steps. Leona watched the young Oji go, boring holes in the door with her eyes long after she left.
“Ease, Leona,” the King reminded her again as he stood.
“She’s lying to you, Dono.”
“I am aware.” He started for the door himself, trusting Leona to fall into step.
“Cvareh stayed with his brother here. He could’ve easily uncovered what we had. It had to have been him; only a Xin would take the schematics,” Leona insisted, trying to persuade someone who was already of her mind.
“And he is no doubt carrying them to Loom to find someone who can finish the engineering of the Philosopher’s Box.”
“Should we increase our efforts in watching the Rivet’s Guild? Even the best watchmen close their eyes to sleep.” It would make sense for Cvareh to head there. The engineers of Loom would be the ones to finish what the last resistance had started.
“I trust you to it,” the King agreed, starting for a different set of council rooms.
“I bend to your will.” Leona bowed.
“However, even more so, I want your sister to bring me back what is rightfully mine.” The King paused, giving Leona a long stare.
“I will see that she does,” Leona vowed. “Personally, if I must.”
“Very good.” He nodded and continued on his way.
Leona didn’t know what was holding up Sybil beneath the clouds. But frankly, she didn’t care. In Leona’s world, there was only success or failure. There was no ‘almost’, or ‘close enough’. Leona had given Yveun Dono her word now. If she had to, she would raze Loom to the ground to avoid failing him.
8. Arianna
Steam billowed over the platform, curling in opaque clouds from underneath the train and casting halos around the dim lighting of the Old Dortam station. It was the last train of the day to embark along the winding trail that curved through the mountain range to the south of Dortam and out toward the coast.
Florence’s inability to spend the dunca from Ari’s mission proved a favorable happenstance. It was handier to have the money in notes that were easy to exchange for three tickets on a sleeper car. Ari had initially been thinking of stowing away, but she wanted to eliminate the number of things that could go wrong. They were already traveling with a Dragon; the last thing they wanted to do was engage in any activity that could raise suspicion.
Ari stood with Cvareh as Florence approached the ticket counter. Iron gates extended on either side, and train staff waited at each of the small entrances. It was the only thing that stood between them and finally getting out of Dortam, and Ari was holding her breath at the thought.
Their disguises were simple but effective. The three of them would be medical travelers, seeking out the colder air of Keel—conveniently where the Alchemists’ Guild was located—to help with their highly contagious, skin-rotting affliction. Florence had thought of it from something she’d read in a book, and Arianna was content to not question. Flor was playing the nurse—the only one among them who could show her face.
Arianna and Cvareh each covered their faces with cloth medical masks and large goggles that hid their eyes. Ari kept her hood down to avoid too much suspicion, but Cvareh’s was raised. Luckily, his skin was a shade of steely blue that could almost pass for gray in the right light. It was the best they could hope for when the bloody Dragon couldn’t even make an illusion.