“Don’t you want to see what’s inside?” she called across the room.
“Oh, more than anything.” The old man stopped. “I’ve wondered what things Oliver was working on behind that door for years; I’ve fantasized over his brilliance. But he imparted his master status to you. He gave you the key to that door. He gave you his tutelage. Whatever is in there is meant for you, not me.” The conversation shifted before Arianna could formulate a reply. “In an hour I will meet with Master Charles to discuss outfitting a line for your boxes. I’ll need you in attendance. I trust you still remember the way to the vicar’s quarters.”
She remembered it well, as if she hadn’t left the guild at all. “I do.”
“I will see you then.” Willard nodded and departed, leaving Arianna alone with what suddenly felt like the most important decision she would ever make.
Coletta
Coletta was an excellent judge of other’s pain.
She had seen men and women die in combat countless times. She had seen Yveun inflict agony with the grace of a dancer. She had watched hordes of nameless, worthless test subjects die under the influence of her experimental poisons.
So, she knew, from the moment she walked into the Gray Room, that Yeaan was not faring well.
“He has poisoned me.” Yeaan pointed a long finger in the direction of a cowering Fen. “He has cut me open and he has poisoned me.”
“I highly doubt he would be the one poisoning you.” Coletta couldn’t resist the bit of levity. Who could blame her? The agony of others put her in such a good mood.
“I did not poison her,” the Fen insisted.
“Then why is she in such pain?” Coletta approached Yeaan. The woman was nearly doubled over, clutching her stomach.
“I-I don’t quite know.”
Coletta ignored the incompetence and pulled Yeaan’s hands from where they clutched her gut. Sure enough, there was a long, angry line down her abdomen. The red skin was oozing gold, a pale, almost puss-like color from where the skin was visibly rippling with not quite right magic—the body not quite able to mend itself.
“Why isn’t it healing?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“What do you know?” Coletta asked quietly, letting her whispering tones express every ounce of discontent she felt.
“I tried to implant a stomach, as you asked. I used the organs you provided me.” He eased some as he spoke. “I implanted them, clumsily perhaps. But I did everything right. It’s fairly straightforward actually. And unlike a Fenthri, I didn’t have to adjust other organs’ positioning to make the size fit . . .”
Coletta frowned at the incision. “Take it out of her.”
“My queen, if I do, she will have to regrow her own.”
“I would rather that than this agony.” Yeaan bared her teeth in a snarl.
“Do it. She’s useless to me like this.” Coletta cupped Yeaan’s cheek gently—comfort amid pain. Cling to me, she wanted the touch to say, let me be your rock in this storm. For the more her flowers saw her as their foundation, the less likely they would stray. “I will find you better organs next time, from among the sun. I will not try to force lesser scraps of meat from underneath the island into you.”
“Thank you, Coletta’Ryu, thank you.” The woman took Coletta’s hand from her cheek, bringing it to her mouth, kissing it gently.
“Stay strong for me, my flower.” Coletta turned to the Fen. “See that she is stronger than before.”
“I—”
“No excuses,” Coletta snapped, punctuating the demand with a forceful slam of the door. Her day was filled with flowers. The wilting one that needed attendance had consumed her morning and now she returned to her garden, full of life in many forms. Topann patiently waited by her laboratory, hands folded and back straight, poised.
“How is your progress with the Flowers of Agendi?” Coletta asked, headed right for her work table. There was no time for pleasantries.
“We have almost finished burning all of Lysip,” Topann reported. “We shall move to Gwaeru to look for any next.”
Coletta paused at the mention of the island where House Tam made its home. “See it done with the utmost caution.” If they played their cards right, it shouldn’t matter if the flowers of Agendi were on that island or not.
“I will.”
“That’s not all I need you to see, Topann. I require your attentions elsewhere.”
“My queen?” She stood when Coletta motioned for her to approach.
“I have taken the time to translate this ledger for your benefit.” She placed the book Louie had acquired on the table between them. “Head to Loom with the Riders Yveun is sending to suss out the location of this resistance, and bring gold back with you.”
“How much?”
“All of it.”
“All of it?” Topann repeated, surprised.
“We require it.” Coletta tapped the table in thought. The last missive from House Tam had not gone well. They were growing impatient, and the refineries on Nova were a grand idea by Yveun but an utter failure in practice. They didn’t possess enough resources or manpower to make them effective.
“Then I shall bring as much as I can.”
“Leverage the Riders and anyone else you see fit.”
“Should this be my priority? Above the flowers?” It was a fair question.
“Yes. I’ll see that Yeaan assists with them.”
“Very well. I shall begin my preparations with haste.” When Coletta said nothing more, Topann gave a bow and departed.
Florence
She was back in the Underground once more. It was a place she couldn’t escape no matter how hard she tried or how far she ran. The force of it was too much; she kept being drawn back in.
The oppressive blackness and heavy feeling of stone all around her were now almost like familiar friends. That may have been too strong of a word, but at the very least, the Underground had become a familiar acquaintance that Florence was required to interact with by some unspoken law.
Returning this time felt different. This time, the Underground was filled to the brim with life and noise.
Activity echoed through the caverns, filling every available space and making the unseen terrors lurking in the shadows slightly less terrifying. Those terrors were the first thing Florence had asked after when she had arrived at Ter.4—had there been any Wretch attacks? She had been surprised to hear that the answer was no. Usually, the Wretches used sound to track easy prey.
The Fenthri that now occupied the tunnels and pathways of the Underground were anything but. They were armed to the teeth and settling in better than Florence could have expected. If anything, she wondered if the Wretches were afraid of them. After all, she reasoned, the influx of Fenthri might sound to a Wretch like one giant beast. If they could be fearsome to Wretches, then perhaps all of them together might add up to something strong enough to slay Dragons, too.