“Is this standard Revolver knowledge?” Shannra was one of the few Florence felt comfortable asking such questions around. She knew the woman wouldn’t belittle her odd guild situation. Anyone in Louie’s company was in no position to speak down to others for odd choices.
“Fairly so.” Shannra nodded and then tapped Florence’s bottle of sulfur. “But you add your own twists to it.”
“Have to keep things interesting.” Florence shrugged.
“Never a dull moment with you, certainly.”
“Speaking of . . .” Florence tugged on the chain connected to one of the buttons of her vest, producing a simple pocket watch. “Almost time for the Tribunal. I should start down.”
“You got it working again,” Shannra appraised.
Florence had discovered the watch among the ruins of Ter.0, a remnant of some bygone days. The front of the watch had an odd design that was almost reminiscent of a wing and some kind of semicircle, but it was too dented to make out the full image. No doubt it had been some Raven’s precious trinket before the world collapsed.
“Arianna,” Florence answered simply.
“You two don’t seem as close as you’d made it sound.” Shannra fell into step.
“Are you probing for Louie?” Florence grabbed her top hat from its peg. “Peg” being a generous descriptor for the bit of gnarled iron that was sticking out from a crumbled section of wall.
“Not this time.”
“This time.” Florence huffed. “How often do our conversations make it back to that Endwig of a man?”
Shannra played with the ends of a handful of hair in thought. “Wait, you think he looks like an Endwig?”
“Most certainly.” The resemblance was a bit of a stretch, if Florence was being fair. But she wasn’t inclined to be fair toward Louie. “White, thin skin. Beady eyes. A taste for living flesh.”
Shannra’s laughter bounced between the walls and straight between Florence’s ribs. She had a beautiful laugh. “A nightmare given form?”
“Yes, describes him well, don’t you think?” Florence tipped her top hat at a passerby, a more frequent occurrence as they continued to descend the tower toward the Hall of the Vicars—as it had become known.
“Don’t be cruel, Flor.”
“I’m being truthful,” Florence insisted. “It just so happens the truth is also cruel.”
“I can’t be too upset with him.”
“Why is that?” Florence asked delicately. Shannra hadn’t spoken much about the circumstances under which she’d come into Louie’s service.
“Well, if I’m probing you for information on his behalf, it gives me an excuse to see you.” Shannra shrugged, back to playing with her hair. “An excuse to talk.”
Her movements combined with her words put a pang of longing in Florence’s heart for something she didn’t quite comprehend. The woman before her was deadly and beautiful, strong and sturdy, yet possessed a vulnerability Florence couldn’t help but be drawn to.
It was all a lie, however. Shannra was Louie’s. Florence knew how the old king of Mercury Town enlisted his help—extreme loyalty or death. So when the cards fell, she would do Louie’s bidding, not her heart’s.
Florence found herself at an impasse, the in-between that seemed to define her life. None of that changed the fact that Shannra was still dodging her question, and Florence had every intention of pointing that out. At least until Arianna appeared.
“Headed down, Flor?” Arianna emerged from the hallway, her violet eyes darting between Florence and Shannra.
“It’s about that time.” Florence patted the pocket where she kept the watch. “Thank you again for fixing it.”
“It was honestly a nice distraction for the evening.” Arianna was wearing her white coat and harness—always armed to the teeth, even among friends. It was a trait Florence admired and was already attempting to embody.
“I will let you know if I find any other such distractions.” Florence flashed her teacher a smile that was reciprocated, however briefly.
“Were it up to the Vicar Revolver, I would have the distraction of manufacturing the Philosopher’s Box.” Arianna’s expression quickly soured. “The man doesn’t seem to understand that creating things is a lot more complex than destroying them.”
Florence coughed softly and it served to remind Arianna that she was no longer in the company of Rivets.
“I didn’t mean to imply that making explosives and ammunition wasn’t complex,” Arianna quickly backtracked, only mildly apologetic. The day Florence saw Arianna genuinely apologize for her thoughts was the day the world had, indeed, ended. “Merely that it is not as instantaneous as pulling a trigger.”
“Especially not when we have still to sort procuring something from Nova,” Florence agreed.
“I heard Louie was asked by the Vicar Raven to look into that.” Arianna looked across Florence to Shannra.
“And how did you hear that?” Shannra arched her eyebrows.
“Louie isn’t the only one who has his ways.” Florence’s chest filled with an odd sort of pride for Arianna’s ability to uncover information. But there was also a twinge of frustration at the fact that she was only just hearing about it. Arianna continued to stare down Shannra. “Well? Does he have a solution for it?”
“Sounds like an excellent discussion for the Tribunal.” Shannra smiled at them both. In a display of boldness, she grabbed Florence’s hand, squeezing it tightly before stepping away. Then, speaking only to Florence: “I’ll see you later, yes?”
Florence could feel Arianna’s stare creeping between her vertebrae. “Perhaps. We’ll see.”
Shannra nodded, and strode ahead into the main atrium.
“Florence . . .” Arianna’s voice was full of caution. “We have to be careful about her.”
“I know, Ari.”
“She’s one of Louie’s.”
“Ari, I know.” Florence rearranged her words so maybe they’d sink in better.
“What sort of things has she been asking you?”
“Don’t worry so much. Louie is on our side.”
“Flor—”
“Ari, let it drop,” Florence demanded with a hard stare. Arianna opened her mouth to protest but quickly abandoned the idea. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”
“I do trust you.”
But I don’t think you know what you’re doing, Florence finished silently. What did she have to do to prove she was capable of organizing herself and others, of defending Loom, of being an active contributor to their future? The more time that passed, the more Florence began to feel like nothing would do it.
She would forever be a student in Arianna’s eyes—a ward.
Florence adjusted her top hat and tilted her face downward. She needed this time to compose herself.
The tribunal room was mostly full by the time she arrived. Florence tugged at her pocket watch as she descended the stairs, popping open the repaired latch to look at the hands within.
“Ah, Florence, what time were we supposed to start again?” Powell asked from where he sat.
She pulled out the pocket watch again. “About another two minutes.”
“Like I told you.” The Vicar Revolver folded his arms where he sat. “Don’t know why you felt the need to ask her.”
“Just getting another data point, Vicar Gregory, no need to get so bothered.” Powell waved off the other man’s short fuse.