She didn’t know what to say, and it seemed Ari was equally at a loss.
“Walk with me.” The words strummed the tension delicately, rather than snapping it. She didn’t know where she’d take Ari just yet, but movement would help. If she could move her feet, her mind might follow.
Arianna continued beside her in silence, peering periodically through the inner windows at the hollow-structured, densely populated core of the five-towered hall.
“You orchestrated all this?” Arianna’s tone was thoughtful, almost gentle.
“I—” Florence worked to let go of modesty. “I did.” She stopped, resting her hand on the gritty cement of a window sill, looking over Ter.0. Airships never stopped their assault on the skies and the trikes tore up the dust that had settled across the whole of the wasteland. For all the Dragons had killed, there were still more Fenthri left than Florence could’ve ever imagined. Loom itself was more than Florence could’ve ever imagined.
“Flor, what do you hope to achieve with this?”
Florence turned, searching Ari’s face for some explanation. She had gone from pure admiration to admonishment in a breath.
“Drawing together Loom, the Dragon King only has only to attack one place,” Arianna continued.
It was an argument Florence had heard before, and she could diffuse it like a simple bomb. “He has no more large-scale weapons to do it with. The Revolvers saw to that.” She had never studied in the guild hall proper, but the Revolvers were her own people. The mere idea of their noble sacrifice put a lead slug in her gut. “Separate, we’re disorganized, confused. He can pick us off bit by bit, convert those that remain. We’re under his thumb. Together, there’s strength in numbers. We need all of Loom to see that we are still strong, that we can be one and stand on our own again. We need the king to see that we are not to be underestimated.”
She wished she knew what went on in Arianna’s head. But, unlike all other times when Florence had awaited her mentor’s judgment, she wasn’t jittering with nerves, waiting for a verdict. She wanted Arianna’s approval as a peer, an equal—not as a pupil or child.
“He’s ruthless, Florence. The Dragon King will—”
“You do not need to tell me of his ruthlessness,” Florence interrupted. “I was there, Arianna, when the Harvesters’ Guild fell. If it weren’t for the Vicar Harvester, I would not have made it out alive.”
Arianna moved, crossing that seemingly unbreachable gap between them, present the first moment they’d laid eyes on each other. Her arms closed around Florence’s shoulders and pulled her close. Frozen shock quickly thawed, warmed by the heat that swelled in Florence’s chest at Arianna’s closeness.
The woman smelled of cedar . . . and another floral scent that Florence couldn’t quite place. Had she always smelled like this? There was a sort of newness to Arianna’s embrace that Florence couldn’t quite explain.
“I was so worried about you,” Arianna whispered. “I thought of you every day on Nova.”
Florence’s fingers curled fistfuls of Arianna’s tired white coat. “I was worried for you too,” she confessed easily. “You do have a way of finding trouble.”
Arianna snorted and pulled away, resting her palms on Florence’s shoulders. “A habit you seem to have inherited.”
“There will be a lot more trouble before all this is over.” Florence stepped out of the woman’s reach. She wasn’t a child for Arianna to protect any longer. “Can I count on you, Arianna?”
“Without question.”
The lack of hesitation reassured Florence immeasurably. “The first Vicar Tribunal will assemble in two days’ time. At that point, I’ll need you to discuss the Philosopher’s Box.”
Florence watched Arianna’s face at the mention of the infamous box. Surely, Arianna had learned by now—from Louie, no doubt—that Florence had outed her ability to make the box. She searched for anger or pain. But whatever emotion Arianna was feeling, she kept it guarded. It was a barrier Florence wanted to break down. She wanted to be as close as they had been in Dortam, but as the women they were now.
“About that . . . Louie has requested unbridled access to the schematics for the box.”
Florence’s hand found its way back to the hilt of her gun at the mere mention of the conniving little man. “I assume you refused.”
“No.”
“What?” Florence hissed. She’d taken Arianna to be much smarter than that. “Ari, you know him, and you know what he intends to use the box for. Furthermore, we must keep the mechanics of the box as secret as possible, at least until—”
“If you wanted it to be secret, Flor, sharing its existence with the world was a strange choice.”
“Loom has no other way to stand against the Dragons.” She was not going to allow Arianna to make her feel guilty. “As we are, we will die. As Perfect Chimera, we have a chance. Plus, I saw no other way to unite the vicars after the destruction of the guilds.” Florence sighed, allowing the tension to defuse. She quickly took her hand off her gun, not wanting Arianna to misinterpret the motion. “But we need to make sure that we don’t have splintering factions. That those who are made into Perfect Chimera are loyal to Loom and know what they must do.”
Arianna sighed heavily, her eyes glazed with a familiar, faraway look.
“Don’t let your vision be clouded by the past.” Florence took a step closer to her teacher. Arianna was head and shoulders taller than her, so she had to stand on her tiptoes to be in her field of vision. “I need you here, Arianna.”
“And I will be.” Arianna’s focus was solely on Florence. “You lead, Flor, and I will follow.”
“Good.” That was how she wanted Arianna to look at her, as an equal. Florence believed her, wholly and completely. “Now, what are we going to do about Louie?”
“He served a purpose.” Arianna shrugged. “And as long as he thinks he’s getting access to the schematics, he owes me three more requests. Getting me to you was the first. The means justified the ends on this.”
Florence shouldn’t have doubted her former mentor and couldn’t stop herself from noting the fact that she had been Arianna’s first request. “And if he actually gets around to requesting those schematics?”
Arianna hummed noncommittally. “We can decide then.”
“It’s not like you to not have a plan calculated, with every contingency accounted for.” Florence half-squinted, quizzical. It had been a short period of time on Nova, but could a few months really change a person so much?
She wondered if Arianna could possibly be feeling the same about her. The world had forced its change on Florence as well.
“There are a lot of moving parts to consider. He’s in our pocket for now, and if he comes to demand the schematics . . . Later? Well, war is coming, Flor. There will be casualties.”