The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)

“Only with her help.” She would’ve never made it anywhere without the help of others.

“I’m glad one of us made it.” Helen leaned back on her arms. She was scrawny, thin—all leathery flesh beyond her years stretched across brittle looking bones. Will had clearly passed his days keeping active, but Helen had never spent much time on physical pursuits to begin with. She’d shrunk drastically in the time she’d spent in the floating prison.

“I should’ve stayed with you. I panicked, and I ran when the constabulary came. I didn’t raise the signal and—”

“We know what happened,” Helen interrupted.

“We were there.” Will wore a tired but coy grin.

“I’m trying to apologize,” she floundered.

“We know you are.” Helen didn’t miss a beat.

“We’re not cross with you.” Will ruffled her hair.

“Well we were,” Helen corrected. “I ranted at length about you to him through the cracks in my floor… But we’d be pretty awful friends if we held a grudge for two years over an honest mistake. Even if it was one that landed us in jail.”

Tears had boldly ventured down her cheeks from pain and fear, but now they fell in earnest. She’d been so afraid of seeing her friends again. Florence had relived the moment of their capture countless times over the past two years. Will and Helen had been exploring a safe route up to Ter.4.2. The moment Flor had seen the men and women of the law rounding the corners with their torches, she panicked. She knew if she’d been caught she would’ve been killed or worse. She wasn’t like Will and Helen; both had been candidates for a circle. She was a failure of no merit, and the law wouldn’t have wasted time trying to “reform” her through a prison sentence. She’d fled.

Again and again she’d asked Ari why, when nightmares had woken her in the dead of night. And time after time, Ari explained the fight or flight reflex, and the training required to control instinct—training that Flor had never been given.

“Chin up, little crow.” Will smiled one of his infectious smiles.

A groan interrupted their discussion. The Dragon winced and his eyes pried themselves open. Ari stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“How much farther can we move tonight?” Arianna asked Helen and Will, moving away from Cvareh with surprising speed.

“I’m knackered.” Helen flopped back onto the rough hewn floor of the tunnel.

“She does have a point.” Will motioned to the group. “We’re all a bit beaten up.”

“We’re too predictable in our location right now. I don’t doubt for a moment that a caved in wall won’t discourage the Riders for long. And even if it did, they’d find another way in.”

“You never mentioned anything about Riders.” Helen squinted at Ari from her place on the floor. “Who are you, lady?”

“I’m the White Wraith.” Arianna folded her arms over her chest. “And once we’re in the depths of the Underground, we won’t have to worry about the Riders any more.”

“We won’t because they’re not foolish enough to traverse a labyrinth of Dark Hands, Golem, and the Wretched,” Helen shot back. “You didn’t flee into a safe zone.”

“No, but I fled with the right people to make it safe.” Ari turned her gaze to her student. “Flor, can you travel a little further?”

“A little,” Florence insisted bravely, mostly to herself. Truthfully, she never wanted to move from the spot where she’d fallen. But Ari knew what she was doing and more than anything, Florence trusted the woman’s instinct. She pulled herself to her feet.

“This is going to be one of those trips, isn’t it?” Helen groaned.

Florence could already tell her friend was getting on Ari’s nerves. And, while she didn’t relish it, she was happy enough to have Helen back in her world that all she wanted was for Ari to accept and endure Helen’s dry brand of cheek. “Come on.” Florence held out the hand on her uninjured side.

Helen stood indignantly, glaring at the offered palm. Florence withdrew, wondering if she’d somehow misread their relationship. “Even if you give me your good arm, my weight will just tear your stitches. It’s not like they’re particularly good.”

“The only thing I’ve ever stitched is a sailcloth,” Will said defensively, standing as well.

“As long as they hold.” Ari cast a concerned eye over his work.

“I’ll be careful,” Florence assured, earning a nod of affirmation from her teacher.

“Well, then, should we head to the terminal?”

“That’s too predictable. Let’s find a nook on the outer rim.” Will hadn’t asked her, but Florence felt the need to interject anyway. She knew if Ari understood what Will was proposing, she would’ve done the same. “Helen, do you remember where one is?”

“Please, to whom do you speak?” the girl scoffed.