How the two most important people in Cvareh’s life ended up on opposite sides of the coin, Cvareh did not know. But he appreciated that they could put it all aside for their common enemy.
“It’s close to Dawyn’s family’s vineyards.” Cain confirmed Cvareh’s worst fear.
“I have to go,” he said to them both.
Arianna pushed off from the window sill as well. Her hands went through their motions, an instinctual check of every tool of her trade. She patted her blades, her winch box, her breast pocket where there was, no doubt, some kind of gun or other weapon concealed.
“I will go, too.”
“What?” both men said in unison.
She looked directly at Cvareh and he instantly regretted challenging her. For there was nothing more fearsome than an Arianna with something to prove.
“I will go, too,” she reiterated. Her attention was solely on Cvareh. “And I will show you just how valuable one Perfect Chimera will be in your fight.” Arianna turned to Cain. “Lead on.”
Cain obliged and Arianna followed, her focus entirely on Cvareh’s Ryu. Cvareh followed close behind, pushing his conflict from his mind. He needed to be focused for whatever battle awaited them. But for now, he felt some pity for whatever Dragons were about to face Arianna.
Florence
The winter air pricked at her skin, turning it into gooseflesh.
Florence rose from the bed she shared with Shannra, finally abandoning all hope of sleep. Instead, she tugged on a random shirt and skirt and padded lightly to the large window that overlooked Ter.3.2. Quietly easing open the latch, Florence leaned into the night air.
The world was still. Somewhere, a Revolver kept watch, ready to raise the alarm if gliders were spotted against the darkened sky. But they didn’t make their hiding spot known.
Florence rested her elbows on the sill. The metal was like ice under her flesh and shot daggers right to her bones. She inhaled deeply, allowing the cool air to meet the sensation of her arms and finish numbing out her bare toes.
“You’re going to catch your death if you let in this weather.” Florence half-turned and was met with a blanket slung over her shoulder.
“I didn’t hear you stir.”
“I know.” Shannra nestled herself under the blanket at Florence’s side, closing it around them like a great cocoon. She’d thought she wanted to be alone. But Florence was proven wrong by the beautiful woman at her side. Her head gravitated toward Shannra’s shoulder, and she pulled the blanket more tightly around them.
“How long do you think it will take?”
“How long do I think what will take?” Shannra followed Florence’s gaze, looking at the factory in the distance. “The new weapons? Sooner over later, I’m sure. The revisions didn’t seem too complicated, at least according to the Rivets.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“My mind reading must be rusty, then.” Florence didn’t even bother fighting a small smile at the woman’s jest. “What did you mean?”
“All this.” Florence nodded to the city sprawled beneath them. The fractured homes, void of occupants. The sloping streets, empty and quiet. “How long until the cities are full again? Until steam clouds the sky at all hours of the day? How long until Loom is alive once more?”
“Loom is alive,” Shannra insisted. “In no small part thanks to you.”
Florence didn’t want to be placated. She wanted a real answer. She wanted to know if what she was doing would be enough or if she had only set the target for Loom’s revival too far away for anyone to hit.
Ari would’ve understood what she was trying to say.
“I’m not enough,” Florence spoke mostly to herself, to all the flaws she still had and everything that she still wanted to accomplish.
“Where is this coming from? Flor, you can’t be discouraged by what happened here.”
“I’m not discouraged, I’m motivated,” she insisted. “All those people died because someone wanted to leave me a message.” Florence scowled at the invisible killer who had laid waste to a factory producing a gun she had an important hand in designing. It was an attack on her even without the words on the doors. “I need to find the person who killed them and shoot them down for Loom. I need to be better for us all—”
It dawned on her in a rush. “I need to be Perfect.”
“What are you saying?” Shannra’s grip had relaxed some. Despite the blanket being around their shoulders, Florence felt very far out of reach.
“I need to be Perfect.” Florence repeated. That was what she was missing. That was what separated everything she was, and everything she could become. It had been Arianna’s turning point, the thing that had made her so strong for so many years.
“You don’t need to be anything but what you are.” Shannra squeezed her tightly again. “You’re already enough.”
Florence opened her mouth to protest, when the wind shifted and a familiar scent tickled her nose. It was faint, so much that she could’ve ignored it entirely. Florence looked for the source, turning her face toward the breeze. But Arianna was far away, and the scent was nothing more than a wisp on the wind.
“My mind is made up.” Florence kept her eyes on the southwestern horizon, wondering if the smell was all in her mind. She would’ve known that aroma anywhere: Arianna’s magic. Perhaps, it was her mind finally telling her that with Perfection would come an understanding of something greater. She would see the world with eyes like Arianna’s and gain insights into all the corners of herself that she seemed to barely understand.
Coletta
Four Dragons snarled from their respective pens in the observation room. Things had changed since Fae and Topann’s time. These were not loyal servants who deserved free roam, but bottom-dwellers. Dragons who had never seen the sun couldn’t be trusted not to kill each other, let alone leave unharmed the Fenthri charged with observing them for any signs of magic rejection.
She watched as the Alchemist walked the length of the room, purposefully staying out of swiping reach of each of the cages. Coletta wondered what the world looked like to him. The only thing keeping him from certain death was her.
From where she stood, it was a gorgeous world order.
“And how are they?” Coletta inquired, growing impatient with the Fen’s endless humming, pen-tapping, and pacing.
“None of them are showing the same signs as Yeann. It seems the Xin organs you have acquired work well.”
“If only there were more. You said with one Dragon we could make another Perfect in how long?”
The Alchemist thought a moment. “We’d have to time regrowth . . . too many organs out at once and the body won’t heal. One Dragon can make one Perfect Dragon in . . . I’d estimate two weeks? If all the organs aligned.”
It was too long. She needed more Xin organs sooner over later. Coletta’s eyes settled on the Dragons in their cages once more. Even if there were more to sort, a success would still be a success, and she would do well not to forget it.
Instead of allowing the limitations to frustrate her, she let them bolster her sails.