Page 68 of The Iron Flower

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It’s slow going as Marina and I cross the North Tower’s field and slip into the dark forest. She’s prone to stumbling, and I have to hold on tight to her as we pick our way through the woods toward Naga’s cave.

The trees are remarkably subdued as Marina and I weave around them, but I can feel their attention disconcertingly set on me.

As if they’re lying in wait.

When Marina and I near the small clearing, the bonfire becomes visible through the silhouettes of the trees, the fire sending up slender, golden arms of flame. I can hear my brothers’ familiar voices and Diana’s laughter, and I’m able to catch small glimpses of them sitting around the bonfire in relaxed camaraderie, Trystan balancing a ball of compact white lightning over the tip of his wand.

Everyone turns as we enter the clearing. I look just past them, toward the cave, and a rush of shock bolts through me.

Naga is out in the openwith Yvan slouched against her side.

I grip at Marina’s arm as Naga sets her reptilian gaze on me. Trystan’s ball of lightning is immediately snuffed out as both he and Gareth rise to their feet.

“Marina,” Gareth says with evident astonishment, the silver tips of his hair glittering in the firelight.

Rafe’s arm has fallen away from Diana’s shoulder, and Tierney and Jarod sit frozen beside them, everyone’s eyes riveted on Marina. Andras and Ariel blink at us, Naga’s splinted back leg held slightly suspended between them.

Only Wynter seems unsurprised, her silver gaze serene, her pale arm loose around Naga’s muscular neck.

Rafe gets up and smiles warmly at Marina. “Welcome.” He motions loosely toward the seats around the fire. “Please, join us.”

Marina’s nostrils flare, and she takes a shaky step backward.

“Are you all right?” I ask her.

Marina closes her eyes tight and jostles her head, as if trying to pry loose a torturous remembrance. “The men,” she rasps out. “Theirsmell...”

Diana rises, her amber gaze fierce. “You have nothing to fear,” she says, emphatic. “No one here will harm you.”

I glance uneasily at Naga, remembering how she tried to attack me only a few months ago, fast as lightning, stopped only by Yvan and the bars of her cage.

The dragon is still peering at me through slitted eyes that glow a burning gold, as if they’ve caught fire. Her mouth lifts with what looks like wry amusement in response to my discomfiture.

I glance back at Marina to find her gills ruffling out, as they’re wont to when she’s deeply unsettled. Still, she forces her head up, a look of stormy resolve on her face.

Seemingly pleased by Marina’s obvious show of courage, Diana straightens and gestures formally toward her brother. “Marina the Selkie, this is my brother, Jarod Ulrich.” Diana hesitates, appearing for a moment like she’s swallowing back her tongue, her lips twitching as she visibly bites back the longer lineage introduction. Rafe watches her closely, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“It’s good to meet you, Marina,” Jarod says with a dip of his head. I notice that his face is wan and stressed, but relief rushes through me to have him back in our circle again.

Diana introduces Marina to my brothers, then sweeps her hand towards Andras. “And this is Andras. He is the University’s equine physician.”

“I am honored to meet you,” Andras says to Marina, his low voice warm and gentle.

Naga is still watching me closely, her left wing intricately splinted, a riot of firelight reflecting off her onyx scales and horns. I wince as I take in the large M branded onto Naga’s front flank—the mark of the Mage Council.

Yvan is reclining back against Naga’s shoulder, his arm draped casually over her front leg, quietly watching me. I’ve never seen him so at ease, but I hesitate to move forward, eyeing Naga with more than a small amount of trepidation.

A crooked smile forms on Yvan’s lips. “Relax, Elloren. If she wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

I frown at him, thrown by his rakish demeanor around Naga.

“It’s true. Naga means you no harm, Elloren Gardner,” Wynter says, her palm flat on the scales of Naga’s neck, giving voice to the dragon’s thoughts. Then she looks to Marina. “And she is a friend to you as well, Marina. And to all the Selkies. Naga is a friend to all of those in captivity.”

Dubious, I meet the dragon’s gaze. Naga eyes me with dark humor, then cranes her serpentine neck up and blows out a stream of golden fire. I gasp as a shower of sparks rains down on our circle, Trystan expeditiously swatting at one that lands on his tunic’s arm.

“Holy Ancient One,” I breathe to Naga. “You’ve got your fire back.”

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