The slightly curving blade echoed against its scabbard, its single edge gleaming wickedly in the lamplight. Arianna grabbed for her cabling, quickly clipping her dagger to it. Her weapons wouldn’t stand up; she knew when she was bested. So it was time to throw a skill of her own into play. Magic.
Her dagger fluttered around him like an annoying fly. He batted it away with his sword, dodging and half-stepping closer. Arianna tuned out the sounds of the battle above her and targeted the Revo. Malice burned through her, ignited by frustration. She didn’t want to kill this man or his allies, she had no delight in it. Their deaths were a means to her end, more bodies sacrificed upon the altar of the lost future she had been striving to build alone in the years following the collapse of the last resistance.
He didn’t stand a chance against the beam of pure energy that fired right through his chest.
Ari holstered her gun and leaned against the wall, catching her breath. She was killing Fenthri for a Dragon. It was a truth so insane she had no other option but to believe it was real. Yet she couldn’t muster the same hatred for Cvareh. There was a desperate sort of survival in him too.
She shook her head with a breathless laugh at herself. I actually believe he’s fighting against the Dragon King. What was the world coming to?
The commotion above quieted as Arianna reached the central office of the prison. A shelf of large ledgers directed her to exactly what she needed to know. There were only a few things to monitor in a prison, after all: the scheduling of the guards, general maintenance, food, and who was where.
“Glad to see you could manage two Revos,” she remarked as a familiar set of footsteps treaded down the stairs.
“Did you have any doubt?” He wasn’t even winded.
“When it comes to you, I have nothing but doubt.” Ari glanced over her shoulder. He had a few cuts that were already healing and half his sleeve seemed to have been blown off, exposing cut muscle beneath. “Did you shoulder a shot straight on?”
“They weren’t expecting it.” Cvareh stood at her side, looking at the ledger she was assessing. She was impressed, but he saved her from saying so when he pointed at the list of names. “Shouldn’t we just call out and ask for them by name?”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yes, because no other prisoner would claim to be someone they’re not at the prospect of escape.”
“Point taken.” He turned, leaning against the table and closing his eyes. “Sounds like we’re alone.”
“For now,” she agreed. “Though more will be here soon.” Her eyes fell on the names she had been searching for. Arianna dragged her finger across the page, checking the dates they were imprisoned against when she met Florence. It matched. “But we have who we need.”
The floors of the tower that were eye-level with the cells had only slats for windows. The wider ones were at the top, where a guard could survey both prison and sea without being visible. Arianna looked out over the compound. Shouts and calls were starting to rise from inmates who realized something was amiss.
“There.” She pointed at an enclosed tunnel on the ground. Bloody everything was enclosed so the guards were never visible to the prisoners. “Run down the Tower and get halfway through that tunnel. Use this.”
“How?” Despite his confusion, Cvareh accepted the disk she passed him.
Arianna ran his fingers over the alchemical rune Florence had etched onto the surface of the bomb. “Here, focus your magic here. Imagine it heating, melting.”
“Right.” He bolted for the stairs.
“And make sure you’re a good distance away when you do!” Arianna called after him.
“Count on me!” he shouted back.
Arianna gripped her golden line tightly. That was the dangerous thing. The longer they spent together, the more she thought she could.
Hopping up on the windowsill, Arianna glanced down, finding numbers 127 and 138. Unfortunately, the prison was too well run to put partners in crime next to each other. But they were at least close. She set her sights on the higher of the two, her line shooting out and latching to the bars of a cell just above.
The shouts of the offended prisoner whose cell she used as an anchor point were drowned out by the rush of wind in her ears as she leapt into the open air. Her winch box whirred, pulling her up as she arced across the length of the gap between the inner tower and the cells. Kicking out her feet, Ari tumbled onto the narrow spiraling walkway, her cord unhooking and retracting into its spool.
“Falling airships, woman!” the girl behind the bars exclaimed. “The Vicar Raven know you got that setup? Because I’m thinking she may want a schematic.”
“Do I look like someone who’d work with the Vicar Raven?” Arianna turned her cheeks.
“Unmarked? Be careful or they’ll lock you in here too. You’ve too much talent for them to just kill. They’ll try to break you first.” The girl grinned madly. She folded her hands behind her back, swaying from toe to heel.