“And Rivets?”
Florence had to think about that for a moment. While Ari was a Master Rivet, she was also not the most conventional of her guild. “Mathematics, perhaps?”
“That sounds terribly dull.” Nora scrunched her coal dust-coated nose.
Florence grinned. “I think so too.”
They slept together, all three of them, in the back car during the day while they were in the Skeleton Forest, and transitioned to sleeping at night in Ter.1. The air itself in the southern territory was thick; it made the hair on her neck stick without any effort. Florence much preferred working through the day when she would be uncomfortable in the engine anyway, than struggling to sleep in the moist daylight hours.
The nights were cooler, and it made huddling together all the more pleasant. There was a different sort of comfort among them than she’d found with Arianna. When Florence had lain in bed with Arianna, even snuggled together, there was a relaxed ease about it. But with Derek and Nora the pressure sat in her stomach, closer to her abdomen. It was the first time she’d felt such tension. She was smart enough to understand lust, but she wasn’t fully aware for whom it stirred.
In all, the trip was mostly peaceful. There was still the stress of maintaining the train and managing the coal, but the old track they rode on was in good enough condition that Florence was confident it’d been used to smuggle things more recently than anyone let on. It was an overall straight shot with only two dead-end switch-offs until they reached Ter.1.2.
The train’s terminal was an abandoned yard and they subsequently left it behind. Florence, Nora, and Derek continued on foot. Despite their brands, they were far enough from the Alchemists’ Guild hall and past the territory border that they could move without any major concern. Derek carried two large trunks, Nora one, and Florence managed hers and a small case of their remaining powders onto the final train that would take them the rest of the way to Faroe.
They paid into a simple car, huddled with other patrons in bench seats. It was quite unlike her last train ride with Arianna when they had their own cabin; this trip lacked all sort of privacy or grace. Harvesters and others piled into the car, taking all available space, and they found themselves sharing their benches with three others.
Florence was pressed against the window for the two-day ride, and she watched as the land continued to change. The fertile middle ground between the end of the Skeleton Forest and the far end of Ter.1 became rocky and barren, void of life.
“What’s that?” Florence squinted at a hole in the earth far in the distance. It looked as if someone had taken a spoon and carved out the land, removing it for some unknown reason.
“A strip mine,” one of the Harvesters—Powell—replied.
“That’s a mine?” Florence tried to reconcile what was before her. “Aren’t mines in mountains? Tunnels?”
“They can be,” Powell whispered, trying hard not to wake their sleeping companions squashed into the bench together. “It depends on the mineral we’re mining for. If it occurs naturally in large pockets, we strip mine it. If it’s in veins, tunnels may be more effective. Some can only be found in mountains.”
The Harvester was quiet for a long moment.
“You lived far from home.”
“What?” Florence asked, startled. They’d barely spoken more than courtesies, yet he had somehow known that about her.
“There are no mountains in Ter.4, little crow.” The man gave a knowing smile. “Which leads me to believe you’ve spent some time in Ter.5.”
Florence pursed her lips.
“Well, wherever you come from, you’re far from home.” He looked out the window.
“I don’t know where home is.” She didn’t, not anymore. Florence longed for the flat she’d shared with Ari in Old Dortam. But it no longer fit them. Too much had changed. And, if the smaller flat in Ter.4.2 was any indication, Ari had no problem abandoning homes to move on when life demanded it.
“You’re young enough that home should be Holx.”
“It should be.”
“But people are rarely what they should be.” The man was older than her, perhaps nearing twenty-five. Older than Arianna, at least, and that meant old enough to know of the time before the Dragons. “Why do you head to Faroe?”
“I’m taking my friends.” Florence nodded at Nora and Derek, slumbering the hours away across from her.
“It’s your first time in Ter.1?”
Florence nodded. The man leaned back in his chair, his gaze still focused on the mine in the distance as they slowly plodded along past it. Even packed in close as they were, they swayed slightly, shoulders brushing and sides flush.
“The land has changed much, in my years.” Florence tried to decipher the somewhat somber note in the man’s voice. “The Guild Initiates and Journeymen your age know it only as it is…”
“What’s wrong with it?” Florence asked, still hearing the haze of regret that floated through the man’s words.
“How long will you be in Faroe?”
If Florence wasn’t so accustomed to Arianna, the questions answered with questions might have been grating. But there was a tranquil similarity in the obscured truths and hidden meanings. “I’m not sure.”
“Then it will be long enough for you to arrive at your own opinions on these matters.”
Florence heard the finality in the statement and rested her head on the glass of the window. The strip mine was now out of view, but she kept her eyes forward as the train swayed in determined progression to the home of the Harvesters. More and more mines dotted the surface of the land as they neared Faroe. Deeper and wider they ran, until the train traversed suspended bridge-ways that spanned a mine directly below them.
She stared over the ominous edge, keenly aware of the thin pieces of steel that separated the train from the seemingly infinite oblivion stretched deep into the earth below. Men and women worked on spiraling walkways on the outer edges of the mine, so far below her that they looked like flicks of dust floating in the mine’s smoky haze rather than actual people. So, so far below that the explosions they set off were nothing more than flashes of light and dull reverberations.
It was as if the Harvesters had peeled back the surface of the earth to find its soul. And its soul was the very lifeblood of Loom: iron, minerals, oil, and coal.