“I know exactly what they are,” he insisted. This was not how it was supposed to go, not in the slightest. At the least he’d hoped for some gratitude for his assistance. All he was getting instead was skepticism and a small dose of amusement.
“How, exactly, did you find out they were there?” The Vicar folded her fingers before her.
“I overheard a conversation in the villa of the Dragon King.”
“And why were you there?”
“I’m the Ryu—the second in command of House Xin,” he clarified. “It’s not uncommon for noblemen and women to be invited as guests of the King.” It was a sort-of lie. Noblemen and women from across Nova were invited on various occasions to visit with the Dono or attend his Crimson Court. Members of House Xin, less so, certainly. But that hadn’t been why he’d been there that day. Cvareh kept his mouth shut over the true nature of his then-purpose. He didn’t want to add to her skepticism by confessing he’d been visiting his brother.
“You’re either a well-trained liar, intentionally kept in the dark, or are the most oblivious creature I have ever met.” She shook her head, fanning out the papers in the limited space on the table.
“Why?” Horror at the idea that the documents weren’t what he’d been led to believe crept over him as if Lord Xin himself had come from the afterworld for Cvareh’s immortal soul. “Are they not for the Philosopher’s Box?”
“They most certainly are,” she affirmed to his relief.
“Then they should be invaluable to the resistance,” he insisted. “And the fact that House Xin would risk both our station and the life of their Ryu to deliver them to you should speak volumes of our loyalty. The King’s Riders pursued me in a failed attempt at assassination for these. Just confirm with Ari or Florence.” He prayed Arianna wouldn’t fabricate something else to knowingly spite him.
“Ari? She lets you call her by that name?”
“Well…” He hesitated. He hadn’t ever been given express permission.
Vicar Sophie laughed, shaking her head again. “You are oblivious on all fronts, then.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued, finally ending their game of cat and mouse.
“You come to Loom seeking our trust for your House. But you don’t seem to grasp why we would distrust you in the first place.”
“I know what the Dragons have done to Loom. I know you wouldn’t have reason to trust me.” Being treated like a child was grating.
“You know why any Fenthri might harbor dislike for the Dragons. But you don’t grasp why we would,” she emphasized. “It may be as you say, that you risk your life in trying to bring these to us. But you don’t know what you’ve brought with you of far greater value.”
“Stop talking in riddles.”
“You thought I would find value in these schematics, when you have brought me the woman who created them?” Sophie smiled as the realization hit Cvareh.
“The-the woman who created them?” he repeated dumbly, at a loss for all other words.
“You call her Ari, like you’re close. But you have no idea who she really is, do you?”
No denial could parry the sword of truth the woman brandished. It cut a bleeding line into his heart atop the space where Arianna’s name had been etched, and left the wound to fester with the faint smell of betrayal.
38. Florence
Derek led her into a small room. A chair was in the center of it, restraints hanging ominously off its edges. Florence eyed them with trepidation. But anything would be better than the way she felt now. She was exhausted all the time, unsteady on her feet, and over the past few days had felt strange pains beginning to creep up on her that were becoming worse and worse, and took longer and longer to go away.
“It hurts,” Derek explained, seeing her staring at the restraints. “But we can’t have you thrashing about when it happens or you may rip out one of the transfusion lines. If you did, that’s the end of it.”
“I see.” Florence was happy to have an explanation, even if it was a miserable one.
“Unfortunately, we can’t give you anything for the pain.” He motioned for the chair. “Since the blood is being purged and cycled through your body, anything we could give would be out in minutes.”
“I understand.” She sat down, willing herself to be still as he began working on the restraints.
Derek paused at her wrist. His steam colored eyes drifted up to her. “It’s okay to be scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
“You’re trembling.” He shook his head, tightening the leather around her wrists. “What made you want to be a Chimera? To propel engines?”
He was taking note of her Ravens’ Guild Mark. “I’m actually a Revo.”
“Oh? I bet you fool a lot of people then.” He accepted her declaration. It was something that Florence wasn’t used to.
“I do,” she agreed hesitantly.
“If it gets too much, we’ll give you something to clamp down on so you don’t bite your tongue off.” His hands tightened the strap around her forehead.