“Florence, take your seat,” her vicar demanded.
“I had a question about today’s agenda.” Powell still hadn’t sat down.
“A question you can ask me, as another vicar,” the Gregory insisted.
Florence glanced between the two men and finally ended with a long look at Powell. She hated the feeling of being relegated to the corner when she had something worthwhile to contribute. At least, she thought she did.
“Very well.” Powell spoke as Florence stepped up the risers to where journeymen Revos sat. She should be grateful; technically, she shouldn’t even be in the room. “What are we talking about today, Vicar Gregory?”
“There’s only one thing we need to discuss.” Gregory nodded in Arianna’s direction. “The lack of schematics in her hands.”
“Perhaps we can discuss the lack of a manufacturing line that would necessitate the need for schematics.” Arianna’s remark was dry.
“You will need to share them with us eventually.” The vicar grew more relentless by the day. Florence could only do so much to quell Arianna’s frustration at the fact. If only Gregory would listen to her . . . and if not her, then Arianna at least.
“In all my years, I have never seen a Revolver so interested in a Rivet’s work,” Willard jumped into the fray as he entered the room. “Warms my heart to see you taking such an interest. Now that we are reverting the guilds back to a system of choice, perhaps you wish to come have a seat in the back behind me, and allow another Revolver to assume command? You seem to have a promising student with a talent for uniting us, just there in the back row.”
Gregory looked over his shoulder directly at her. Florence leveled her eyes against him and fought every urge to look away. She was not going to be submissive, not when she’d done nothing wrong, and especially not when another vicar was standing up for her.
“Ah, Vicar Dove,” Powell spoke loudly the second Gregory opened his mouth, cutting off whatever remark the man had been ready to levy against her. “Not a moment too soon.”
The Vicar Raven waved her hand, assuming her seat with a yawn. “Don’t wait on my account.”
Florence resisted the urge to point out that it wasn’t much of a Vicar Tribunal if all the vicars were not present at each meeting.
“Well, I have a question for you, so waiting was a necessity. It’s with regards to harvesting these magical flowers . . .” Powell started.
“As I have said previously, the Ravens are glad to assist.”
Assist how? Florence wanted to ask. She expected some resistance; not everything would go smoothly. But she had foolishly believed that all those present on Loom would band together. It still seemed that the selfish nature of mortals won out from time to time, even in the face of certain devastation.
“I’m a bit curious on the details surrounding the how, Vicar Raven?” Florence asked from the back of the room, drawing all eyes to her. She wanted to hear if Arianna was right, and she’d play dumb if she had to. “After all, I left the Ravens’ Guild. I’m not sure how it all works, getting something from Nova . . .”
“Florence—” Vicar Gregory’s tone had been getting harsher by the day.
“I’m curious about these details as well.” Powell came to her aid. She didn’t know what she’d done to earn such esteem in the man’s eyes, but having the favor of a vicar was priceless.
“Well, since a vicar is asking now . . .” Dove gave Florence a look from the corner of her eyes. “We are currently working on the infrastructure between Loom and Nova, to find a consistent means of transport. Without the ability to pilot a glider, we will need to rely on Dragon intervention. But finding Dragons willing to work against the Dragon King while not endangering our own by drawing attention is difficult.”
Florence rightly didn’t care if Louie was in any sort of danger. That was the line of work he put himself in. But since Vicar Dove was, for whatever reason, keeping Louie’s involvement quiet, Florence couldn’t call out the fact.
She turned to Arianna expectantly. If they needed Dragons, surely House Xin would come to their aid. Florence met her teacher’s eyes, and the other woman remained glued to her seat—and silent.
“Perhaps the Harvesters have some inroads with the Dragons that we could use?” Vicar Dove continued to speak with Powell, but the words were distant.
Why wasn’t Arianna saying anything? She looked over to the Vicar Alchemist, and promptly realized that Cvareh had held his meetings with Sophie, not the vicar that Florence had ushered in by creating a sudden vacancy in the position. No one else really knew of the depth of Cvareh’s involvement beyond her and Ari.
“Perhaps,” Powell replied. “But most of our organ seeds—” he didn’t even acknowledge the Dragons as people, Florence noticed. “—were given to us to cultivate legally by the Dragon King. An avenue I do not think is available to us any longer.” He turned to the masters behind him. “Would any of you . . .”
Arianna still was immobile. Florence stared down at her teacher, but Arianna was doing an excellent job of ignoring her probing gaze. Why wouldn’t she speak? It was for the good of Loom. They had the solution neatly. They could move on from the topic.
What exactly happened between her and Cvareh on Nova?
The question from the first time she had laid eyes on her teacher again crept back to her. Now, more than ever, she was sure of it.
Frustration found its way like a billow of steam up the flue of her throat. If Arianna wasn’t going to say anything, then she would—Vicar Gregory’s growing ire toward her be damned. Somewhere in her, Florence felt bad for outing Arianna, but there wasn’t any other choice. If Arianna wouldn’t do what was best for Loom, Florence would.
The doors to the room were pulled open and a breathless man ran halfway down the stairs before loudly proclaiming, “Rainbows in the sky!”
No one breathed.
Then, chaos.
“What do we do?” Vicar Powell asked no one in particular. Typical Harvester.
“Revolvers, arm yourselves and to vantages!” Vicar Gregory jumped into motion. “Masters, summon the other journeymen. All Revolvers are to take to positions!”
“Vicar Gregory, can my Ravens assist your guns in flying to their stations?” The prior hesitation to work together melted away from Vicar Dove in a moment.
“Yes, while masters convene.” Vicar Gregory gave a firm nod to the other vicar and then continued to bark orders.
Florence stood. She hadn’t been given a position, but she was going to fight anyway.
“Where are you going, Florence?” the Vicar Revolver demanded.
“To where I can be of use.”
“Just stay here. Only Revos were informed of what to do in such a contingency,” Vicar Gregory called back, leaving and taking half the room with him.
Only Revos. The words echoed and Florence scowled. She adjusted her hat and started for the door.