Arianna stared at her for a long moment. Something in Florence’s words had penetrated through the mindless aggravation and hurt. Ari shook her head, laughing bitterly.
“Since when did you become the scientist?”
“I have a good teacher,” she replied easily, nudging Ari with her shoulder. “Now, tell me what’s happened.”
The other woman sighed heavily, running her hands through her cotton-colored hair. Indecision didn’t fit Arianna well, and she struggled every second she spent thinking about Florence’s request. But finally, Ari stood, walking over to the slip of paper she’d discarded with such passion earlier.
Just looking at it brought a scowl back to Ari’s face. Florence had to brace herself once more for the torrent of emotions that ripped through Ari and broke over her shoulders.
“This. This is what he’s been struggling to deliver.”
Florence examined the paper closely, leaning forward to get a better look. Parts were done in pencil, and those had been smudged by Ari’s treatment. The darker lines done in ink over top persevered, however. It looked like some kind of pumping mechanism? Or perhaps an engine? It wasn’t something designed to explode, of that much she could be certain.
“What is it?” She failed to see how this tiny bit of a Rivet’s sketch had upset Ari so much—even if Ari, as a Rivet, could decipher its intention. It was next to useless in its current state. She knew schematics required dozens of drawings, often of the same thing, to make assembly and creation expressly clear.
“It’s a sketch detailing a part of the Philosopher’s Box.”
“What?” Florence had only heard of such a thing existing in theory.
It was regarded as a clever exercise for students of all ages. What if a perfect Chimera were possible? One who could possess all the powers of a Dragon and not become forsaken from the stress of the magic on their body? How would that change Loom? How would it make things different?
Most knew the answer: It would make everything different. With access to that much magic on Loom, they could create larger, more intricate machines without the need of backup mechanics to run them. They could successfully fly their own gliders up as high as Nova without losing control. They would need less food, so the Harvesters could spend more effort on deeper mining of rarer minerals. And they could stand a fighting chance against Dragons.
The Philosopher’s Box would change everything, and that was why no one believed it could ever be real.
“This is meant to be a Philosopher’s Box,” Ari insisted again. “You can see it in the casing, the way it opens and closes in place of heart valves here, right here.”
“In place of heart valves?” Florence repeated, confused. She’d always imagined the Philosopher’s Box to be a sort of Chimera-making contraption—like a golden coffin.
“Yes, it’s obvious by the tension in the springs and the way this is drawn to have a circle stopper.”
Florence would have to take her word for it.
“Let’s say for a minute that I believed you on all this.” Ari looked instantly hurt that she would imply any differently. Florence continued, determined. “That this is a part of a schematic for an actual Philosopher’s Box. Why would Cvareh bring it to Loom, to the resistance? Doesn’t that seem like he’s trying to help us?”
Arianna didn’t miss a beat. “He’s doing it to earn their trust. He wants them to think they can trust him.”
“And what if he wants them to think that because they actually can?” Florence shook her head. “If he just wanted to try conning them into belief, couldn’t he have brought anything and said it was a piece of an unfinished Philosopher’s Box? By the time they finished investigating, he could have what he wanted.”
“It’s more realistic if he brings them the real thing.” Ari set the paper back down on the table with a sigh.
“You don’t quite believe yourself…” She stood, taking a step toward her teacher. Florence wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist, resting her cheek in the center of Ari’s back. “You want to, you’re trying to, but you don’t believe the words you’re saying, either.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“How can you say that with such certainty?” Arianna grumbled.
Florence laughed softly. Her teacher, the brash and beautiful. “Tell me this: Does Cvareh still have his head and heart intact?”
“He does.” Though Ari’s tone implied it was a fact she might regret. An error she might be inclined to remedy sooner over later.
“Since when have you spared a Dragon’s life when you thought he was guilty of crimes against Loom? Or even the sincere possibility of committing crimes against Loom?” Florence waited a long second, giving Arianna a chance to grab for straws at an answer she knew she didn’t have. “That’s right, you don’t. So somewhere in you, you must be questioning this. You must be wondering if what he’s saying is true. His actions must have spoken to your heart clearly enough that you know he is not the evil you’re painting him to be.”