He had the right credentials, and James begrudgingly led them out of the station and into Keel proper.
It was Florence’s first time in the capital city of the Alchemists. Much like Faroe was different from Dortam, which was different from Holx, this was another city where the Rivets had put to use the natural resources and terrain to optimize structures. Pine buildings, no doubt constructed from the trees that were cut down to make room for the city itself, were stacked on top of each other around what trees remained.
Metal pipes funneled steam and wires among them, winding across bridges and trailing down walls like eager, industrial roots. It glittered in the early evening light as biofluorescent lanterns sparked to life, swirling like Dragon magic caught in jars. The heavy tree canopy, the narrow windows sparkling with seeming magic... it felt the way Florence expected the secretive city of the Alchemists to feel—dark, but full of promise.
James led them down a wide street to one of the towering trees that was nearly smothered by all the structures built against it and on top of each other. Plumes of steam mingled with an odd trail of red smoke that curled in the air around its upper levels, piped out from what Florence could only assume to be a laboratory within. James stopped just shy of the door.
“Vicar’s inside.”
He pointedly turned on his heel, starting for the station again. The three of them watched him go with a mindful note. There was no denying the haste with which he had wanted to get away from the place. Combined with his earlier hesitation…
Was he avoiding Sophie? Florence kept the question to herself.
“What now?” an incredibly disgruntled Vicar snapped the moment they walked in. Sophie tore her eyes away from her paper, dropping it onto the desk. They gained a different sort of clarity, however, when Sophie saw exactly who sought an audience. “Derek? Nora?” There was a long pause. “Florence.”
“We’ve returned from the Harvesters’ Guild, and have spoken with the Vicar there.” She got it out of the way first. Florence didn’t want any question as to what they had accomplished, especially given the terms she’d left on. It had only been a few months, but it felt like years.
“You actually made it?” Sophie narrowed her eyes in apparent skepticism. “The Vicar Harvester is dead.”
“We were there when they elected a new one in Ter.1.2,” Derek explained. This seemed to satisfy Sophie for the time being.
Florence was getting rather tired of needing Derek to step in to validate her claims to Alchemists.
“How did you survive?” Sophie’s tone shifted to genuine curiosity rather than outright interrogation.
“Florence made friends with the man who is now the newly-elected Vicar on the way to the guild. Because of that, he worked to get us out when the Harvesters received word of the attack.”
“Did you?” Sophie’s eyes were on Florence again.
“Yes.” Calling Powell her friend seemed rather forward. Their relationship had been up and down, odd, and short, but he had gone out of his way to save her life. If that didn’t make him her friend, she didn’t know what did. It had worked for Ari, at the very least.
“Will he be sending the supplies we need?” Sophie addressed Derek, but Florence couldn’t stop herself from answering.
“After what happened to Faroe, I don’t think much will be coming out of the Harvesters for some time.”
“I didn’t ask you,” Sophie said casually, not even bothering to look at Florence when she spoke.
Florence clenched her fists in frustration but held her tongue.
“I believe he will help us…” Derek was beginning to look uncertain now. “But circumstances have changed.”
“They have not changed in the slightest.” Sophie frowned. “Now, more than ever, we must launch an attack against the Dragons. Loom has seen the danger they bring.”
“Exactly.” Florence saw her opening and took it. “Loom knows of the danger—all of Loom. Every guild is unified once more and will all fight together.”
It was like Florence was speaking a different language, there was such a look of confusion on Sophie’s face. “We do not need the other guilds to fight.”
“What?”
“We need their supplies, certainly, but we do not need their involvement.” Sophie scoffed at the very notion.
“How—how can you say that?” It flew counter to everything Florence believed the resistance stood for. Everything Sophie should know. Hadn’t this woman been Arianna’s friend?
“The Dragons see us as weak.”
“And we should show them we are strong.”
“No.” The word was said so quickly that it punctuated Florence’s sentence. “We must let them think we are weak and divided. Wait for them to make a mistake, then strike.”
“What if they don’t?” Florence shook her head incredulously. It was sheer lunacy. “What if this is merely the beginning?”
“This is a scare tactic, one you seem to be falling for. If we unite, they will merely respond with more force. However, if we show weakness and open doors, they will come down among us to rebuild, just like after the One Year War. Then will be our time to strike.”
“That could take years. It could never happen! Who knows what they will do to Loom while we wait and do nothing?” Sophie was gambling with Loom’s freedom rather than taking it. It made Florence want to scream and stomp. The Dragons had attacked them in cold blood. They had set Loom afire simply because they could. And now? Now Sophie wanted to roll over before them, continuing what had amounted to a pathetic quasi-rebellion in secret.
“And if the rebellion fails, as it did last time, all of Loom will live to fight again if we conduct ourselves quietly. Past failures can still teach valuable lessons, Florence.” Sophie remained undeterred.
“Arianna will never go for this. She wants the Dragons dead.”
“Do you really know what she wants?” Sophie challenged. “After all, she’s been on Nova for some time doing who knows what.”
“It has something to do with the Philosopher’s Box.” Florence prayed that everything she knew about Arianna remained true. She was betting not only everything that she had, but Loom itself, on the fact. “Ari will come back, and she will go to the Vicar Tribunal.”
“Vicar Tribunal?” It was Sophie’s turn to be incredulous.
“There is a Tribunal happening on Ter.0 in two months. The Vicar Harvester is spreading the word to the other guilds. They expect a demonstration of the box, and the Vicar Alchemist in attendance.”
If Florence could pack the look Sophie was giving her into a canister, it would be the most deadly shot she’d ever made. After several long breaths, the Vicar slowly dropped her hands to the desk, standing slowly. She rose to her full height, a head taller than Florence.