The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)

Then again, he could stop time.

His face became the sole object of her focus. Her hand tingled from where it had raked against his teeth. The ghost of his tongue ran along her skin. She wondered how her power stood up to his. He would know now, since he knew how much magic he expended to stop time and how much hers replenished. Were they well matched? Or could he indeed overpower her? Ari had never imbibed from a living host, and the notion suddenly fascinated her.

“I have our tickets.” Florence’s cheer was almost believable. Arianna stepped first, Cvareh half a step after as she’d instructed. They both fell into place behind the youngest among them as they approached the gate. “For the three of us.”

The ticket-taker tore all three tickets in half at once, passing one part back to Florence.

“Step widely, you two,” she instructed, waving them around the man and onto the platform. The train staff didn’t look twice. Between the mask, the goggles, the hood, the haze, and the darkness—Cvareh was passing as a Fenthri. A large Fenthri. But Arianna suspected that her standing next to him helped. “Don’t get anywhere near this nice gentleman. You don’t want him to catch your sick.”

Others on the platform took heed of Florence’s loud cautioning to the ticket man and gave them a wide radius. Ari smiled proudly under her mask. She’d helped raise quite the cunning little sneak these past two years.

“Let’s see… Our car is…” Florence led them down the long platform, continually checking the tickets. “Right here.”

Arianna had traveled by train a couple times in her life, but she was quick to forget how little traveling Florence had done. The young woman stared in wonder at the plush red carpet and patterned metals, embellished with fabric, of the sleeper car. Cabins lined one side of the hall, windows on the other.

Florence was so taken by it all that she momentarily forgot where they were going—a distraction quickly remedied with a small cough from Ari. Their cabin was small, as most were in second class. It would be tight, but manageable for the few days they would be on the train. This was a trip for business, not pleasure, and Ari was certainly not going to spend more than she had to on the Dragon.

One long sofa was on the right, a low bar for basic effects on the left. Over the sofa was a second bed that could be folded down from the wall. It was cramped with the three of them and Ari was stuck awkwardly shuffling around Florence and the Dragon to pull the curtains over their window and lock the door behind them.

“Flor, you did a great job.”

“I was so nervous, I thought I’d be ill!” The girl fell onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh and began rummaging through her bag for a foil-wrapped chocolate.

“It didn’t show.” Arianna pulled the mask down from her face and rested her goggles atop her head. Her eyes fell on the Dragon as he carefully inspected the metalwork with one of his bandaged hands. “Well, Lord Dragon, fashionable enough for you?”

“And how long have you been waiting to use that quip?”

Arianna was dangerously close to appreciating the Dragon’s adaptability in managing her sarcasm.

“But yes, it is quite fashionable. We would use wood on Nova for something like this. I’d never thought metal could look so… soft.”

The compliment caught her off-guard. Her immediate reaction was to probe for falsehood. But she could see none in the way he delicately traced the star-like shapes the intersecting diamonds of raised metal made. That sent her mentally pin-wheeling in the opposite direction. If this Dragon thought he could win her over with a more delicate approach to her world and people, he was certainly wrong. Ari sat heavily on the sofa, stretching her legs as long as they could go in the narrow compartment.

“Look, Flor, he admits the whole of Loom shouldn’t be burnt to the ground.” Arianna closed her eyes, satisfied at having the last word.

“I don’t think he ever said he thought it should be.”

Arianna cracked one eye open. Florence had the audacity to grin at her. Traitor.

Cvareh lowered his hood, his blood orange hair spilling around his head like a halo in all directions. In about thirty seconds he went from being a narrowly passable Fenthri to looking entirely Dragon. It soured Arianna’s stomach with the sobering reminder of why they were on the train.

“Don’t take too much off,” she cautioned him. “Never know when a stray conductor could decide to poke a head in.”

“That happens?”

“Sure, looking for stowaways or people who have overshot their tickets.” Florence gave Arianna a pointed look at the end of the statement, which Arianna held knowingly. It was their second time traveling by train together. The first time, they had been those stowaways in hiding from the conductors and train workers.