Page 18 of The Iron Flower

As I scan the crowd, my eyes land on Paige Snowden. She’s nibbling on a skewer of toasted goldenfish that glint in the lantern light and standing with a knot of young Gardnerian women. A shadow falls over her expression as they’re joined by her fastmate, Sylus Bane. I recoil at the sight of Sylus in his military uniform, a gleaming wand at his hip, the same charismatic, arrogant stance and cruel smile as his vicious siblings, Fallon and Damion.

“You know,” I say to Jarod, intimidation pulling at me, “when Fallon recuperates and finds out I was at this dance with Lukas Grey, she’s going to kill me.”

“No, she won’t,” he counters with surprising confidence as he selects a crystal glass full of blue punch from a servant’s tray. “Diana told Fallon quite a while ago that if she ever bothered you again, she’d rip her head off and display it on a post in front of the University gates.”

I cough out a shocked laugh as Jarod grabs up another glass of punch and hands it to me. He lifts his glass in a toast and straightens. “To freedom,” Jarod says, smiling at me. “For everyone.”

“To freedom,” I agree, momentarily overcome by the sentiment. I smile back at him as we clink our glasses decidedly together.

I sip at the sweet punch. Candied Ironflower petals float on the surface of the blue liquid, and the crystal glass is cool in my hand. I survey the outwardly happy-looking couples, my thoughts turning to Diana and my eldest brother. “My aunt’s cut Rafe off, did you know that?”

Jarod’s pleasant expression dims.

“She found out about Diana,” I tell him. “Everyone knows. My aunt’s sent word that she’s coming to visit us in a few days, once the Mage Council adjourns. Her letter was friendly enough, but I suspect the real reason for her trip is to threaten Rafe.”

Jarod cocks an eyebrow at me. “If she’s cut him off, how’s Rafe going to manage the University tithe?”

I can’t help but smile faintly at the absurdity of it. “He’s working with me now. In the kitchens. Which is funny, because kitchen work is Rafe’s least favorite chore.”

A collective gasp goes up near the entrance to the hall, and we both turn to see Rafe and Diana burst into the room, laughing. He’s pulling her by one arm, a wide grin on his face as she jokingly resists his pull. They’re dressed in rumpled brown hiking clothes, a dead rabbit tied to Diana’s back and swinging behind her.

My mouth falls open as all the blood drains from my face.

Rough shouts of protest go up as Rafe leads Diana to the middle of the dance floor and takes her into his arms, twirling her around smoothly, their faces radiant with happiness.

Alarmed, I glance toward Jarod, whose face has paled.

“This is aGardneriandance,” a soldier with the stripes of a Level Three Mage barks out as he stalks toward Diana and Rafe, three more soldiers close on his heels as the music falls away.

A look of white-hot defiance crosses my brother’s face. He shoots the Mage a mocking smile, pulls Diana into an embrace and kisses her deeply.

Waves of shock rip through the room, followed by an angry swell of voices.

The Level Three Mage reaches for his wand. “No!” I choke out, grasping at Jarod’s arm. “Rafe doesn’t have any magic!”

“I know,” Jarod says tightly, the hard muscles of his arm coiling beneath my hand.

Diana pulls away from Rafe, a mischievous look in her eyes. Then she exuberantly grabs my brother’s hand and tugs him after her, the two of them laughing as they bound through the crowd and out of the hall. A torrent of breath releases from my lungs at their escape, the clamor of angry voices soon dissipating along with the threat of violence as the soldiers slowly blend back into the outraged crowd.

After a moment of tense silence, I turn to Jarod. “Do your parents know about them?” I wonder if all hell is about to break loose on both sides of the aisle.

Jarod’s jaw grows rigid. “They do. They’re coming to Founder’s Day.” He hesitates. “Father wants to have a talk with Rafe.”

I shoot him a panicked look. I’ve been looking forward to Founder’s Day, when parents and families traditionally flood into Verpax to visit University scholars. Uncle Edwin is finally well enough to come see us, and I’ve been overjoyed at the prospect of seeing him after so many months apart. He recently sent me a letter, transcribed by one of Aunt Vyvian’s servants, telling me that his health is slowly improving and he’s finally able to walk again with the aid of a cane.

But now, my happy anticipation dims as a sharp worry takes hold. The Lupines may be accepting of a great many things, but I imagine that acceptance does not extend to the descendants of the Black Witch.

“It’s not just my parents and younger sister who are coming,” Jarod worriedly says, glancing at me sidelong. “My father’s entire guard will be accompanying them, as well.”

I grasp my glass tighter. “Your father’s not coming to threaten Rafe, is he?”

Jarod looks out over the crowd, the music tentatively stepping up to quell the collective trauma. “No,” he says with a troubling lack of conviction. “At least I hope not.”

Jarod’s attention is caught by something across the room. He inhales sharply as his eyes fill with emotion. “Aislinn.”

I follow his gaze and soon spot Aislinn’s slender frame gliding through the crowd like a panicked bird in flight. Jarod and I both step forward, away from the shelter of the trees, and I motion to Aislinn with a small wave. She waves back, her eyes widening as they settle on Jarod.

Aislinn’s slightly out of breath as she reaches us. “Jarod. You’re here.” Her openly besotted look quickly tamps down, and she looks away from Jarod, flustered. “I’m so glad I found both of you.”

---