Page 127 of The Iron Flower

My thoughts fly to Tierney’s predicament. “My friend Andras told me that the Amaz are getting close to removing Fae glamours. Can you do that?”

She smirks. “Do you know any glamoured Fae, Elloren?”

I shoot her a cagey look. “I might.”

Valasca laughs. “We’ve figured out how to remove Lasair glamours.”

“And Asrai?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet. But soon, I think. They’re trickier. The Asrai Fae layer multiple glamours, one on top of the other, so unlocking them is a bit of a puzzle, but we’ll get there in time.”

Hope lights in me, and an eagerness to convey this news to Tierney. I peer out over the city, just able to make out the mammoth Queenhall and the Goddess statue rising up from the center of the plaza.

“Your people confuse me,” I muse, the drink freeing my tongue and making it easy to say whatever comes to mind. “You’re doing so many admirable things, helping the Fae remove their glamours, defying the Gardnerians and taking in refugees. But...the way you treat males... I met Sorcha’s son, did I tell you that? I told Sorcha about him. Do you know what she said?”

Valasca raises an eyebrow.

“She said she doesn’t care about him at all. And my friend Andras—he loves her. But he meansnothingto her. How can your people be so cold?”

Valasca’s gaze is steady. “Not everything is as it appears on the surface.”

I spit out a sound of derision and look away.

Everything is beginning to appear liquid and hazy, like a dream. The scarlet glow of the Amaz city, the moon-washed Spine beyond. It’s all blending together, like streaked paint.

“After Sorcha brought her baby to the Lupines,” she says, “I spent every night with her for about two weeks while she sobbed herself to sleep. She was completely distraught over giving up her baby to the Lupines. And she was heartbroken over Andras, too.”

I stare at her in bewilderment. “But...it really seemed like shehatedhim.And Konnor, too.”

Valasca coughs out a sound of disbelief. “Did you really expect Sorcha to break down and cry over Andras and her son in front of a hall full of Amaz soldiers? Things areneveras simple as they seem. There are many here who love men, who agonize over the sons they’ve lost, who secretly visit both. You’ve met Clive Soren. You must know of his relationship with Freyja. Everyone does.”

“I pretty much figured it out,” I admit.

“She goes to see him several times a year. She says she’s going to hunt. Alone. No one asks questions, and she tells no one the truth, so she is left alone.”

“And if she were honest?”

“She would be thrown out of Amaz lands.”

“Forever?”

Valasca nods, seeming resigned to these unforgiving ways.

“And you agree with this?”

A deeply troubled look passes over her face. “I’m not sure, Elloren.” Her voice lowers as she looks away, her eyes tight with conflict. “I don’t think people should be valued only because they can sire babies. And that’s the way we treat men.” She turns back to me. “So, no. I don’t agree with this.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Valasca stares out over the city as one of her goats playfully butts her thigh. She reaches down to gently pat the animal. “I don’t know. It’s a dilemma.”

I take another sip, the drink making me bold. “So, do you have a secret lover?”

Her lips curl into a slow, wry grin. “I’ve had a few.”

I take another drink of the Tirag and hand the flask back to her. Valasca looks at the flask, as if deliberating. Then she lets out a sigh and takes a long swig from it, leaning languidly back against the tree.

“So, who’s your secret man?” I ask her.

---