The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)

“Flor, we were fine in Dortam, you and I. We can go back, we can live our lives.”

“You taught me to see past what Loom is to what it could be, and now that I can, now that I do, you want me to stand to the side?” Florence balked. “What did we do this for? What did you do this for? Wasn’t it for a boon to help you change this world?”

Arianna didn’t answer, and her silence stung to a degree that was nearly as great as the transition had been. Florence fell back into her chair.

“Do you really want what’s best for Loom?” she whispered. “Or do you only want what’s best for yourself?”

“Watch your tongue.”

“Watch yours, Arianna.” Florence was on her feet.

“Should you be standing?” Cvareh had been entirely forgotten.

“Don’t lie to me—tell me straight. Did you ever have any intention of really fighting to win back the Loom you claim to love? Or have you only ever fought for the past under the guise of being a champion for the future?”

Arianna scowled down at her and Florence looked up without hesitation or remorse. Maybe it was the new blood in her veins that made her bold. Maybe it was the struggles she’d overcome on the journey. But she was no longer the girl Arianna had found on the streets of Ter.4.2. She no longer needed saving, which meant Arianna could no longer fill the role of savior. Florence was becoming something more, and she needed Arianna to rise to the task and do the same.

The silence stretched on for too long and Arianna stepped away. Betrayal hit her hard in the chest. Her teacher, her friend, the woman who had been her everything, was walking away when the bombs were dropping.

“I hope you decide to grow into your words,” Florence said softly. Arianna didn’t even turn. “I hope you decide to stay with me, as my friend. I hope you decide you can live up to who you say you are. That you can support me in what I want even if it’s not what you wanted for me.”

The door clicked closed as her only reply.





39. Arianna


It had been three days since Florence had last spoken to her. Three days of wading through the din of the Alchemists Guild hall, lacking direction and purpose. Three days of watching Florence recover, stronger than ever.

The girl threw herself into acclimating to the Guild. At some point, she spoke with Sophie and the Vicar had agreed to let her join whatever pathetic rebellion was brewing. That, or Florence was even better than Arianna had given her credit for at making new friends—and Arianna had given the charismatic girl a lot of credit.

Cvareh was nowhere to be found, and she insisted to herself that she was glad for that fact. She didn’t need the Dragon in her life. In fact, good riddance if he left her. She didn’t need him or the Raven-turned-Revo-turned-Chimera. She didn’t need anyone.

At least, those were the lies she told herself. But as Arianna sat tinkering, building lock after lock and useless trinket after trinket, the loneliness grew. After she’d lost everything in the last resistance, she’d gained Florence. And now she’d lose Florence to the new resistance. Cvareh would likely betray them all and she’d be left with ghosts and enemies anew.

“So this is what the great and charismatic Arianna has been reduced to.”

“Go away.” Arianna didn’t even turn from her workbench. She remained hunched over the tiny springs and dials of a mechanical bird. Getting its wings to flap had been trying her patience all morning.

Sophie ignored her, crossing over to the table. She picked up the wingless body of the bird. “Well, if I ever need to send messages via clockwork pigeon, I know who to turn to.”

“What do you want?” Arianna was already spitting venom. She was in no mood and was utterly unapologetic about the fact.

“You know what I want.” Sophie put the trinket down.

“I’ve been wondering when you’d finally start hounding me.”

“I’m not going to be a rusty gear about this.”

She didn’t believe it for a second.

“I’m going to ask you for your help.”

“Oh, is that all? That’s a relief. No, then.” Arianna returned to fumbling with the wing.

“Arianna—”

She made loud squeaking noises, imitating the rusty gear that Sophie had claimed she wouldn’t be.

“Stop.” Sophie covered Arianna’s hands with hers and the watch she’d been using as a distraction. “You’re not a child.”

“I was never a child.”

Sophie laughed. “Well, there we can disagree.”

“I already told you no,” Arianna reminded her. “I think we’re done here.”

“Arianna.” Sophie sighed.

“Sophie.” She sighed dramatically in reply.

“Weren’t we friends?” Sophie had the audacity to look hurt.

“No,” Arianna was out for blood. “You and Eva were friends.”

“You can’t be jealous of her and me. Your presence was the thing that reduced us to nothing. If anything I should be the one cross with you. The woman is dead, let—”