by Elise Kova
She couldn’t. Coletta had many areas of expertise, but every manner of language from the Fen was not one of them. She snapped the ledger closed.
“What other information did you get from him?”
“The rebellion is being led by a child named Florence,” Topann began. Coletta knew that Loom was in a dire state, but it must be truly on its final threads if they were appointing children as their leaders. “A very petulant girl. She brandished a weapon at the Dono himself.”
“Did she?” If the name hadn’t been imprinted on her mind previously, it was now. Coletta wanted the satisfaction of orchestrating the girl’s ultimate demise herself.
“As I said, the Dono is fine. He did not step off his glider, so his corona protected him the whole time.”
But the girl no doubt wanted him to. Knowing Yveun, the Fen’s affront had made his kingly blood boil so hot that he was tempted to do so to wring her neck. She could not afford to let Yveun off Nova again, Coletta decided then.
“And Arianna?”
“She was there, but did little.” Topann thought a moment. “I heard the Riders say she actually called off Florence.”
“Interesting . . .” Perhaps the fall back to Loom had knocked the inventor down in more ways than one.
“The king says weapons are scarce since the Revolvers blew themselves up, but I’m not inclined to believe him.”
Coletta wasn’t either. After all . . . She opened the ledger again. Even if she couldn’t understand it, the ledger was a record of where gold was being kept on Loom, moved from secret storehouse to storehouse. If Loom had squirreled away gold, Coletta was certain they’d done the same with weapons, and that meant Yveun should brace himself for a greater attack than anticipated.
“There was one more thing.” Topann summoned Coletta’s thoughts back from the ledger. “The Fen King was grateful for the organs you provided in exchange for the ledger. But he mentioned something new he would be negotiating for: Flowers of Agendi.”
Coletta paused, closing the ledger and setting it aside. Her mind pegged the information as important instantly. It was oddly specific and necessary enough to risk the request. The flowers grew only on Nova, and Coletta didn’t think it chance that the man who had only dealt in organs for years was suddenly asking for something new mere weeks after Arianna had returned from the sky world.
“Why these flowers?” They had no medicinal properties and no poisons—that she knew of. They weren’t even especially beautiful. Some Dragons held that their pollen made their magic feel stronger. But surely that wouldn’t be enough to help Chimeras stand against Dragons?
“He didn’t say.” Topann bowed her head. “Forgive me, my lady, the gliders were leaving and I had to be subtle.”
“Rise, Topann.” Coletta extended her hand and the woman scooped it up, kissing it firmly, no doubt grateful to still be in her queen’s favor. “You have done well to acquire this information. Now we must act upon it.”
Coletta looked out over the leafy foliage that surrounded her outdoor laboratory. “I have none of this particular flower. Head to the fields on the north side of the estate where they grow, and bring me ten.”
“Ten, yes.”
“Then, when you have done this, I need you and Yeaan to collect all offshoots of our great vine.” Coletta herself was the “great vine” and every offshoot was where a tendril crept in the form of one of her flowers. “You will find everywhere this flower grows, and you will destroy them all.”
“How would you like them destroyed?” Coletta appreciated so very much that such was the woman’s only question.
“Uproot them, and take them to some remote place to burn. Do it with as much discretion as you can muster.”
“Always, my queen.”
“One more thing, Topann.” Coletta thought aloud. “Have them bring wine to my chambers this night. No food. I trust you to pick a worthwhile vintage on my behalf.”
“Understood.”
“Go now, make it so.”
By the time Coletta finished cleaning up her laboratory, the wine was waiting for her on a bronze platter in the central room of her quarters. None dared go beyond that point. For if they did, it was well whispered that they weren’t long for service to House Rok—or the world.
Coletta picked up the glass, strolling into her study. The room was rectangular with towers of bookshelves filled with all manner of odd knowledge she’d acquired throughout the years. Some volumes were rare, some commonplace, and some would only be important to the authors whose hands had scribbled the words, believing they would never be read.
At the far end, past a chaise and table with a single chair, was a large desk that matched a second in Yveun’s side of the estate. Coletta set the ledger down there, but kept wine in hand as she walked over to the wall of windows. Far beneath her, the God’s Line was a swirling sea of gray, masking Loom and all its secrets.
She took a long sip, allowing the crimson nectar to sit on her tongue—one of the few things she could still taste. She debated if she would crack this Raven code, or learn all about the Flowers of Agendi first. Coletta turned back into the room with purpose, heading toward her books on plants and herbology. It didn’t matter where she started; it would all be torn apart, secrets exposed, by the time she was done.
FLORENCE
It seemed as though she had just managed to gather everyone together, only to see them scattered to the wind once more. At least everyone was moving as a unified force rather than blowing in, one rogue tumbleweed at a time.
Her goal for the Tribunal had been accomplished.
Even still, it was exhausting to take all of Loom—who had only just been transported en masse to Ter.0—and move them again. The Vicar Raven was no doubt no more annoyed than she let on about the great exodus, but if the woman was disgruntled, she did a good job of not betraying the fact.
“Are you really going to stay here?” Shannra asked.
“Only as long as it takes to clear Ter.0,” Florence replied.
She was so very tired of cleaning out her laboratories, one after the other. But having done it multiple times in her life made it pretty short work. The experience equipped her to make simple decisions on what was most important to take with her, and what could be left behind, if needed. It was simple logic where everything went, and Florence knew it all by heart by now. Every canister, vial, gun part, and jar went in its place easily.
“I’ll wait for you.”
“No, you won’t.” Florence didn’t know if it was Louie’s influence on the girl, or if she genuinely wanted to stay. It was a question she was unexpectedly afraid of asking—or rather, she feared the answer. “I need you to help organize defenses at the Ravens’ Guild.”
“There are plenty of people who can help organize defenses. I want to protect you.”
“There are not plenty of people, and in fact there are precious few Revos left. Furthermore, I can protect myself. Despite the tattoo on my cheek, I am no Raven.”
“I know that better than anyone, but it doesn’t mean you couldn’t use someone’s help.”
“The Dragons won’t attack for three days. By that point I will be long on my way to Ter.4. I’ll be nothing more than a speck on the map; no Dragon will find me and no Fenthri would attack me.” Florence was fairly confident that at this point she had solidified her reputation as one of the deadliest people on all of Loom. How many others could challenge the Dragon King himself at gunpoint? Of course, that was a decision Florence had yet to fully unpack now that the initial fight-or-flight response had left her. Her hands had a tremble since the Vicar Tribunal.
“Florence, why won’t you let me help you?” Shannra rounded the table. She rested a gentle hand on Florence’s shoulder.
She moved away subtly from the offending touch, using the opportunity to stretch for a high jar and shake Shannra’s hand free. But her distractions were growing limited, and soon she would be forced to focus on the other woman in the room.
“What kind of question is that?” Shannra almost seemed offended. She walked around the table to position herself between Florence and a narrow set of shelves she had been clearing. “Do you think I have been at your side this whole time because of Louie?”
Florence thought about it for a long moment. Was this woman nothing more than a pawn in the greater scheme? And if she was, why did it matter to Florence? “Have you not been?”
“Five Guilds! That’s all you think of me, isn’t it?” She seemed torn between laughter and anger. It was a combination that fit her. Light and dark. Happiness and sorrow. Anger and joy. Shannra was all of it wrapped into one.
“I don’t know what to think of you,” Florence answered honestly, at last looking her in the eye.
“Florence.” The woman’s whole demeanor changed. “Yes, Louie asked me to come here. I told you that from the beginning. I’ve never kept my affiliation with him a secret.” Shannra shook her head. “And I have no doubt that he asked me specifically because he knew I could be of help to you, because he knew you would want to learn from me. But Louie has been here for weeks now, and I spend more time at your side than with him or any of his other . . . employees. It doesn’t matter how I came to you; it matters what we do going forward.”
She wanted to believe it was all true. Shannra’s silver eyes shone brightly in the fading light of the day. Florence wanted to believe they hid no secrets, that there was nothing within them that could even be the seed of a lie. But she wasn’t sure—couldn’t be sure, maybe ever.
Still, arguing with the woman would do her no good. If her suspicions were founded, Shannra would never admit to them. If they were unfounded, she only risked alienating a friend. Was it better to risk having a false companion than having no companion at all?
“Even still.” Florence sighed softly and let go of the argument. Her focus had to be on other places, her energy devoted to more important things than unpacking the true depths of her feelings for the silvery beauty. “You are far more useful to me getting a head start on fortifying the Ravens’ Guild and the Underground than offering protection I won’t use and don’t actually need. I will not be long behind you; all of Ter.0 will be on the move in two days’ time and I will be out with the last of them. All this is for only a day’s difference.”
It seemed like Shannra was going to put up one more fight, and Florence braced herself for whatever the argument may be. The truth was, neither of them owed the other anything.
“Do me one favor.” Shannra paused and reached for Florence a second time. This time, she didn’t move away. “Okay, two favors . . . One, don’t store this powder on the edge of the box. Rattle it too much and it could go.”
“Really? But I thought that was why we cut it with sulfur?”
“We did. We cut it enough to prevent it from being a danger when mixed with other chemicals for canisters. But the whole thing in a jar? It’s a rather pointless risk.” Shannra took the jar and nestled it between some of the others toward the center of the box. For good measure, she even wedged in some leftover rags around the various vessels.
“Okay, and this other favor?”
“Seek me out when you arrive at Ter.4?” Shannra gave a small, delicate smile.
If she was being honest with herself, Florence had planned to do so immediately anyway. “I think I can manage that.”
“I’ll take this ahead for you.” Shannra started for the door with the box still in her arms, speaking over her shoulder, “Think of it as collateral, to make sure you come looking for me.”
“Collateral? It looks a lot like theft.” Florence leaned against the table.
“Well, as you so aptly pointed out, I am on Louie’s payroll. Who really knows when I may decide to just up and steal something?” Shannra gave a small wink and left the room with a satisfied swing of her hips.
It was one odd relationship to the next.
The halls were washed in shadows, and every footstep she took toward Arianna’s room was elongated by a quiet echo. All the chaos was happening downstairs, people uprooting themselves from what fragile peace they had managed to scrape together in a few days since everyone had amassed at Ter.0. But up here, there was only silence—silence and Florence’s thoughts.
She wondered if she should feel guilty for how she had treated Arianna.
Because she didn’t.
Florence wanted answers. The uncertain world that surrounded her owed her nothing. She feared that if she did not take the chances that presented themselves, as they presented themselves, they would be forever lost. All of life’s events, loaded into the chamber of a gun, and it all came down to having the courage to squeeze the trigger before the shot was lost. She would not lose this opportunity to speak with her mentor one more time. She would not be relegated to silence, like when Arianna had up and left for Nova, giving Florence no other choice but to swallow her curiosity and hope not to choke on it.
But Arianna was not in her room, leaving Florence to wander the tower in search of her wayward mentor.
As expected, Florence eventually found Arianna in the remnants of one of the Rivets’ workshops. Unlike her own workshop, this one was filled to the brim, all manner of gears and tools lining the walls. The tang of metal was sharp on her nose, cut with the warmer scents of grease and oil.
Arianna looked up promptly when she arrived, her Dragon ears no doubt anticipating her arrival for some time now, which explained the lack of surprise on her mentor’s face.
Florence leaned in the door frame, folded her arms over her chest, and waited. Arianna stared back, and neither said anything. Time stretched on and, as much as Florence didn’t want to be the first one to speak, she wanted to waste her time a lot less.
“Ari, we should talk,” she said with a sigh.
“Do you really think I am not loyal to Loom?”
Another sigh. “No. May I come in?”
Arianna motioned to the stool across from her and Florence accepted it. She didn’t touch any of the various tools and parts scattered across the table, keeping her hands folded in her lap instead.
“Why did you tell me not to shoot?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“I want to hear it,” Florence demanded.
“There will be people, at times, you cannot demand answers from.” Arianna was hesitant, but acquiesced to her demand anyway. “Because a shot would’ve done nothing against his corona.”
“You don’t think I know that? I was trying to coerce him off the glider. If I had, with that many guns on him, we could’ve taken him down and then . . .”
“Then what?” Arianna pressed when Florence’s thought trailed off. “Then we would win? The war is ended before it begins? Freedom reigns on Loom and we celebrate?” Arianna put her gearbox down, which was open to reveal the guts within. “No, Flor. I told you about the Dragon houses when I first arrived. If you had killed the king, there is another who would inherit his throne. And if you killed her, there is another after that. And another, and another . . . All of Dragon society is based around the idea of someone always being in power. One man or one woman always being on top. It’s a pyramid you can’t topple.”
The words were a bitter potion of truth and they turned Florence’s thoughts sour. “Then what are we supposed to do? Roll over and accept them as our masters and oppressors?”
“We must work with them.”
Florence’s stomach churned at the idea, but she forced herself to think logically. She’d been rash since the moment she’d seen the king. Calmed now, she could see that it was Arianna’s composure that had kept things from splintering too soon, that had given them time to organize and flee. Again, it came down to Arianna; she still had much to learn from the snow-haired woman.
“You mean Cvareh and his sister?”
Ariann
a nodded. “His family, the Xin, is fighting against the Dragon King as best they can. But like Loom, they aren’t strong enough.”
“Why?” Florence wasn’t keen yet on the idea of allying with another faction getting crushed by the king. They needed strength.
“There are three Dragon families,” Arianna began, and Florence settled into her stool, listening intently. Everything Arianna said sounded vaguely familiar, but Florence listened as though she was hearing for the first time. “Tam, Rok, and Xin. Rok has remained the leader for hundreds—thousands—of years. Tam seems to be in the middle, their mantra favoring balance over upset. So, as long as the Rok family doesn’t do anything too heinous, they work to maintain the status quo and do little else.”
Florence instantly knew she would not get along with a Tam Dragon. “And Xin?”
“Houses Xin and Rok seem to be constantly fighting over who will be on top. With Tam de facto in the middle, one of them is always in power with the other in the weakest position on Nova.”
“The weakest position? Poor things,” Florence remarked sarcastically.
“None of them really see us as anything worth fighting over,” Arianna admitted.
“So why would we ally with them?” Cvareh had seemed good enough, but if his family didn’t see the value in Loom, then she would no longer see the value in him . . . even if it was his blood in her veins.
“Because they don’t care about us. Cvareh’s sister, and the leader of House Xin, only cares about ruling over Nova. If we help her get to that point—”
“Then she’ll let Loom be free?”
“Killing the Dragon King means nothing. It’s like severing a Dragon’s hand. It will grow back time and time again. Not only must we sever the hand, but we must replace it with something that suits us better. Only then will Loom be truly free.”
Florence let the information soak in. She took off her top hat, brushed off dust that had settled on the brim while she was cleaning out her laboratory, and returned it to her head. “If everything you say is true . . . we must work with House Xin.”
