Page 175 of The Iron Flower

I hold his stare, unmoved as my rage implodes, and desolation sweeps through me. “Lukas.So are you.”

We hold each other’s implacable gazes for a long, tortured moment as our fires race through each other’s lines. And then it’s abruptly gone—all trace of Lukas’s black fire. Like a wall being slammed down.

I move away from him, and a realization hardens deep inside me with irrevocable conviction. As much as I need his help right now, I can’t align with him and risk becoming any part of thisthing.

“Goodbye, Lukas,” I tell him roughly, even as my affinity lines strain toward his. Even as all hope for my brothers’ freedom turns to dust. Even as all hope for the future comes unmoored.

I turn on my heels and walk away.

* * *

I stride away from the North Tower and onto the cobbled University streets as the wind picks up and the storm finally gives way, lightning cracking overhead and a pelting rain beginning to fall.

I walk as Urisk workers scurry toward the North Tower’s field, bringing trays of food to both sides.

I walk, alone and untrailed by guards, increasingly chilled, until I’m clear on the other side of the University, and then past it. I cross over a scrubby side field and head straight into the bordering wilds.

I dully register the forest’s hostility, but deftly force it back. The trees are so dense that I can barely feel the rain under the canopy of thick branches.

Soaked through and uncaring, I slow to a stop, my breathing ragged as an overwhelming desolation sweeps over me.

Diana and Jarod. Rafe and Trystan. Tierney and Yvan. And all the others I’ve come to care about.

There’s no one who can save them.

A wave of anger and grief crashes into me, and I’m swept into its undertow. My legs buckle, and I fall onto my hands and knees, vomiting up all the bile from my stomach.

I’m breathing heavily, spit hanging from my mouth as I stare at the wet, dark earth. Lightning flashes, and my gaze snags on a small, arcing stem pushing its way up through the bed of leaves.

I push myself up and grab at a nearby tree for support.

Lightning flashes again with an earsplitting crack, illuminating the tree.

Ironwood.

I lean into the tree, ignoring its silent cry of protest as I rest my head against it. It’s cool and rough, and even though I have to force away its revulsion, I can feel life thrumming inside it. Spring forcing itself to be known.

Another crack of lightning and I glance up to catch a momentary glimpse of a translucent bird shuddering to life in the trees—there and gone again so fast that I’m not sure if I can trust my vision.

Newly alert, I glance around, realizing I’m surrounded by a whole grove of Ironwood trees, and the hooks of arcing stems are pushing up between the rotted leaves all through the grove.

Ironflowers.

The only tree that starts out as a flower, the delicate Ironflower blossoms seeding to trees the following year, trees with branches that bloom with a smaller version of the original flower.

The apothecary wheels of my mind start turning as an idea ignites like an explosion.

To make this work, we’ll need Ironflowers. A lot of them.

We’re many days away from the glowing Ironflowers blossoming on the forest floor.

Where could I get hold of enough Ironflowers...

In a sudden, swooping rush, it all coalesces in my head.

And I know exactly how Tierney and I are going to get them all out.

CHAPTER TEN

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