“Chimera.” The Rider spat. “Filthy thief.”
The Rider had no idea how right he was. Chimeras had a poor reputation on Nova, especially since half of them got the required organs through illicit trade. Trade that Arianna engaged in and clearly took pride in, as her smile was nearly visible from under her mask.
“Get out of my sight.” The rider waved them on in disgust and Florence took an eager step away.
One of the other Riders called over to the man who had been interrogating them, asking what the holdup had been. The words were likely lost on his companions, but Cvareh understood the Royuk clearly.
“Invalids and Chimera,” the Rider answered. “That’s what reeks of foul blood.”
“How can you be sure it isn’t Cvareh, then?” the other Rider jested back in Royuk.
Cvareh ground his teeth together at the use of his name without any titles. He could learn to live with the slight from Arianna, who hated everything, and Florence, who meant well but didn’t know anything. But these were Dragons. This was intentional. It was personal.
“Inept and dirty blooded, sounds like House Xin all right.” The first Rider roared with laughter.
Cvareh twisted and Arianna grabbed for him. But he was too far gone mentally and physically. No one would slight his House like that to his face, not while he drew breath.
The satisfaction of ripping out the Rider’s throat was deep and true, but short-lived. Golden blood poured between Cvareh’s fingers, his magic preventing the rider from healing. The heart would die shortly, from lack of air and blood-loss, but by then the other three Riders would have Cvareh on the ground and vivisected.
He could see Petra’s face, he could hear her words scolding him as though she already knew what he’d done and was magically whispering across worlds to him. His pride had blinded him and he’d lost sight of the long game. In defending House Xin’s honor now, he’d thrown away the possibility for his family’s glorious future.
A dull thunk reverberated up through the Rider’s body and into Cvareh’s hand as a dagger plunged into the man’s heart. Cvareh felt Ari’s magic pulse through the Rider; the dagger twisted, pulverizing the heart before it retracted into her waiting palm. It was the first time he had ever been relieved to see one of those blades.
“You idiot,” Arianna muttered, before she started on one of the other Riders.
10. Arianna
Dragons could not be trusted.
She’d known this much to be true all her life. When the first Fenthri broke through the clouds of Loom and uncovered the Dragon homeland, it began a chain of events that proved Dragons were opportunists and liars. From the Dragon King promising equality between Loom and Nova, then enslaving her people, to the Guilds being overthrown and turned into a mockery of their former glory, to what happened the last time a resistance stood against them. At every opportunity, Dragons acted in their own self-interest, pursuing their own goals at the expense of others.
Dragons could not be trusted.
Arianna’s magic pulsed through her fingertips as she commanded the dagger at the end of her line like a barbed whip. It cut through the air with a sharp whizzing sound that rang louder and more true to her ears than the cries of the other Fenthri at the fight that had broken out among them. She managed it like a cat and a tail. It was part of her, but moved seemingly with its own mind.
Her other dagger in hand, she launched at one of the remaining three Riders. Three Riders, and two of them—Florence wouldn’t be much help. Arianna loved numbers, but she hated those odds.
Cvareh moved for the third Rider. His claws flashed in the sunlight that flowed unfiltered through the glass ceiling above. Her ears picked up the sound as they locked against the Rider’s, bone grating on bone.
They had been through the line when he attacked. It made absolutely no sense. They were free and clear and there had been no reason for it. He had willingly endangered them all for nothing. If they made it out of this scrap alive he would have some serious explaining to do—assuming Arianna didn’t just get on the next train back to Dortam and leave him to fend for himself.
That was an appealing thought, the idea of taking Florence and running from the fight. But Arianna didn’t give it too much heed. There was no time to think that plan through and besides, she was already committed to the struggle. At the very least, she’d get to slay some Dragons, and it was always a good day when that happened.