The Alchemists of Loom (Loom Saga #1)

“Really?” She chuckled. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He must be acclimated to Loom, because the rude dismissal only made him bristle so much. The slights against him he could forgive, and he had the feeling he’d need to forgive much more to achieve what he wanted. With that in mind, he headed straight from one room occupied by a sharp-tempered Fenthri to another.

Arianna had made a virtual sundries shop of clockwork items in the workroom she’d stolen. Even as he arrived some Alchemists were leaving, turning over mechanical locks in their hands with fascination, and cackling over the ideas of all the trouble they could use them for. Things were going to be interesting for a bit in the Alchemists’ Guild with Arianna’s work in house.

Her head jerked up at the sound of him, as though she’d known it was his eyes on her with the feeling of his attention alone. Perhaps she had. He could find her in a crowd by just her footsteps now. Why would it be far fetched to think she would know him by his stare?

Arianna’s mouth pressed into a line, and Cvareh was equally talkative. They hadn’t said a word to each other since arriving at the Guild a week ago, despite crossing paths. The last time she’d really said anything to him was when he’d let her imbibe from him.

His obsession with the woman was nothing more than an infatuation, he’d begun telling himself. But one look from her had him questioning everything. To say he loved her would be a stretch. To say he wanted her, wanted to understand her? That was much closer to the mark.

“I want to talk to you.” He finally broke the silence.

“I figured that’s why you were here,” she drawled, returning to the little box before her.

He’d spent so much time around her as the White Wraith that he’d forgotten she was a Master Rivet. Her skills with machinery, locks, buildings—they all contributed so seamlessly to her success as a thief and organ runner that he didn’t look at them as separate from that chosen profession. There was something almost soothing in the way she tinkered.

Soothing, and restless.

If he shifted his thinking, it wasn’t far-fetched to see the reason for her attempts at finding peace in gears and coils. Cvareh sighed to himself, crossed to the worktable and sat in the chair opposite her. She pretended he didn’t even exist.

“I came here to ask for your help.”

Arianna continued to ignore him, and for the first time he preferred it that way.

“I came to Loom to bring the schematics for the Philosopher’s Box to the rebellion here because my sister wanted to use it as a bargaining chip for their alliance. On Nova, our House has been the lowest on the social ladder for centuries. I understand that may not mean much to you. But to us, it’s everything. And Petra is the first chance we have at taking the throne. She’s young, and strong, opinionated as anyone, and she fights for who and what she believes in.”

Ari reached for another tool, working as though he wasn’t there.

“I think that’s what I see of her, in you.” His soft words finally drew her attention and now that Cvareh had it, he wouldn’t let it go. He would lay it all out on the table. He would do what he should’ve done from the start and let her know exactly who he was and what he wanted. “I don’t know how the King got the schematics. I know, now, you were the one to make them. So I can’t imagine how they fell into the hands of the Dragon King and I can only assume it has something to do with your general hatred for my people and the failure of the last rebellion.”

Her challenging stare told him he was right.

“But if I had known they were yours… I would’ve returned them to you, rather than bring them here.”

“Liar.” Arianna whipped out the word as though she’d been waiting all along for an opportunity to use it. “Why would you sacrifice the bargaining chip that you said yourself means so much to your family, and your sister?”

“Because of the predicament I’m in now,” he answered easily. “Partial sketches are almost useless. But the help of the woman who made them? That’s worth something far greater.”

“Did Sophie send you?” Arianna scowled at the mention of the Vicar’s name.

“Not directly,” he confessed. “But she has put a high price on the alliance of the rebellion.”

Arianna sighed and turned back to her box. She struggled with a tiny gear, trying to force it onto a peg and into place. It just wouldn’t go.

“I may have done all this out of order. But I want to earn your trust.”

“For your family.”

“For my family,” Cvareh confirmed. “And because I want to know why I can’t seem to stop thinking about you at every turn. Why I find the shade of your skin and flatness of your teeth charming, when a few months ago I found it repulsive.”

“What are you saying?” All emotion dropped from her voice. It was virtually unreadable to his ears.

“I don’t know what I’m saying.” Cvareh stood. “But I want to find out. And I intend to do so.”