Florence wasn’t as convinced of Cvareh’s lie. The Dragon was certainly going to great risk to get to the Alchemists. It was the guild that stood the furthest from being under Dragon control, hiding behind their insistence on secrecy for their experiments. It had been the home of Loom’s original resistance.
But even the Council of Five—those foolish few who had attempted to fan spark to flame and free Loom from under the Dragon King in those early days—had perished to the might of the Dragons. The Fenthri stood no chance, outclassed as they were in strength and magic. Florence had grown up hearing the tales of the Council of Five, but as a child’s cautionary tale against being too bold. The Council was not spoken of lightly, and never with praise.
“But I don’t disagree with you, Dragon.” Arianna sighed, continuing, “The Riders will be canvassing every major hub, and an airship is very noticeable if it is not traveling between those hubs. Not to mention your scent is notable.”
“So then how will we move?”
“We’ll take the Underground.” Arianna turned to Florence, and it was suddenly clear.
“No,” Florence breathed. “I won’t go back there again.”
“Flor—”
“You promised me!”
“Then stay here.” The words were said gently, but they hurt more than Arianna intended.
Florence fidgeted on the stool, shifting her feet, trying to catch her breath and her balance at the same time. Tunnels, endless tunnels that turned the underbelly of Ter.4 into a rat maze. It was known as “the Ravens’ playground” by bold new initiates, and “the Ravens’ folly” by the far more sensible masters.
When she had escaped those tunnels, she vowed to never enter them again. She had gone in one of ten and come out one of three. The unending blackness had taken its toll on them. They had paid their dues for her freedom many times over.
“I can’t lead you through them.” Florence shook her head violently. “I wasn’t leading last time and I don’t remember.”
“I know, Flor, I know.” Arianna’s hands smoothed over Florence’s shoulders. The motion did little to soothe her racing heart or calm her nerves. “But we must use them. They’re the only straight shot from Ter.4.2 to Ter.4.3 that assures no chance of anyone sensing Cvareh’s magic or picking up his scent. From there we can cross to Ter.0.”
She wants to cross the wasteland. Florence shook her head. It was clear this was a Rivet making a traveling plan, because no Raven in their right mind would suggest such a dangerous and backwards journey to Keel.
“That still doesn’t solve your problem of navigation.” Florence was grasping at straws, anything to make Ari reconsider.
“I’ll have help.” Arianna’s eyes told Florence she had yet to reach the worst of it. Those wretched, expressive Dragon’s eyes suddenly looked so foreign. This woman, this woman who had pulled Florence from the shadow of death, would now plunge them willingly back under that shade.
“Who?” Florence asked, though she already knew the answer.
“Your friends.”
Florence’s mouth dropped open. Arianna was reckless—that much Florence had always known. But never once had she thought the woman was stupid enough to break out two inmates from the floating prison of Ter.4.2.
12. Leona
Sunset was Leona’s favorite time of day. The blinding light began to diminish, turning the sky the color of summer cherries. The world was awash in a pale red haze, sparking the accents on the Rok estate as though everything was graced by tendrils of flame.
Leona basked in the warm glow, the last fading heat before the chill of night tainted the world. Too fitting that House Xin would be done in blues that mirrored her least favorite hours. She opened her eyes, staring at the archways curving over the balcony’s entrance.
House Xin. The name alone put a foul taste in her mouth. There had not been a whisper from Sybil in four days since she descended to Loom. What was taking her so long to find the boy?
Yveun Dono grew more impatient by the hour, and Leona couldn’t really blame him. She turned her head and looked into the room beyond—his drawing room. The King sat atop a raised dais. Behind him was an identical circle embellished with a gold band and even more circles ringed in gold. He looked as though he sat atop the earth, and the moons and suns rose at his back. Her King could pass for part divine.
“You seem cheerful,” his voice rumbled from across the room out to the wide railing Leona had made her perch.
“Dono?” She sat straighter, draping her legs on the inside of the balcony.
“You’re not one often caught smiling to herself.”
Leona pressed her fingertips into her cheeks, catching the offending emotion spread across her lips. Thankfully, it was just the two of them present, and she had no secrets from her sovereign. “I was thinking that it is a lovely evening.”
The King paused, looking out over the veranda where Leona sat. He considered the sunset as though he hadn’t even noticed the passage of time over the past few hours. His face relaxed, just a fraction. There were only a handful of people Leona suspected would notice the subtle shift in his brow that occurred when the King transitioned from their supreme leader to just a man.