Page 134 of The Iron Flower

Eventually, her breath evens out, and she stands, her movements more like a warrior Amaz than the weak slip of a girl she once was. She retrieves her clothes and throws them on, then slings her seal-skin over one shoulder.

She walks over to Gareth and reaches up to caress his cheek. Gareth smiles at her with a look of fierce alliance. But I can see it in the tightness around his eyes—this is the beginning of goodbye for them.

Marina steps away from Gareth, one hand on his shoulder, one hand on the silver skin. “Now,” she says, turning to all of us and exposing predatory teeth, “we need to save my people.”

CHAPTER NINE

EQUINOX

“Don’t you have studies to catch up on?”

Diana’s stern tone cuts through my fog of worry, and I look over at her from where I sit on my bed, gripping a mug of hot tea. I don’t know how she can concentrate at a time like this. My mind is a whirl of tense worry. I’ve tried to do some reading, but the medicinal formulas keep flying right out of my head, like birds refusing to be caged.

Rafe, Trystan and Gareth are off investigating the three Gardnerian Selkie taverns located in the isolated forests just over the Verpacian border. And, in an unexpected turn of events, Clive Soren is traveling with Yvan to the sole Selkie tavern that’s in Keltania.

They left yesterday before dawn, each carrying a generous supply of guilders in their pockets, courtesy of Queen Alkaia. All of them are armed with stacks of pictures Wynter drew—images of Marina, her sister and every face Marina could remember from the night she and her sister were taken. There are also pictures of Amaz rescuing the Selkies, leading them back to the ocean—a visual map of the planned escape to show any Selkies they encounter.

Ariel hovers near the roaring fireplace, thin flames flashing out from her palm. She’s getting stronger every day. She still avoids me and hardly speaks to me, but she doesn’t seem so angry anymore. She’s more...settled. And her wings have undergone a wondrous transformation—they’re smoother and shinier, and her eyes are brighter and steadier. It fills me with quiet satisfaction to see her improving so.

Marina sits patiently by Wynter as we all wait, her seal-skin tied over her shoulder and glittering in the firelight along with her silver hair. Her face is tense, and I don’t think she’s eaten a bite all day.

Just as dawn’s faint glow makes its first tentative appearance on the eastern horizon, Gareth returns.

Marina and I jump up to greet him as he shrugs off his cloak, swirls of snow falling from it, instantly turning to tiny puddles on the floor. We press a cup of hot tea into his hands and give him a seat by the fire, which he gratefully takes.

Gareth cuts right to the chase. “Your sister wasn’t there, Marina. But there was a woman there who recognized her.” Marina’s face fills with anguish, and he places a steadying hand on her arm.

“What was it like?” I ask him softly. “What happened?”

Gareth swallows hard before answering. “It was awful. They had some women...girls, really... They looked no older than sixteen... They had them dancing for the men.” He stops to shake his head, as if trying to clear away a repulsive thought.

“They were dancing?” Marina says slowly.

Gareth shoots her a concerned glance. “They were...unclothed.”

Marina nods tightly in sickened understanding. Gut-heaving outrage sweeps through me.

“They kept ushering in lines of girls and young women,” Gareth says. “They were clothed, though barely. They had them standing in a row for the men to look at. Like livestock at a fair. Most of them seemed scared. A few of them, especially the younger ones, looked completely traumatized.”

He stops to take a breath, clearly upset. “The tavern keeper...he brought me over to them. Told me how much they cost. I chose an older woman. She had a strong, smart look to her—I thought there was a good chance she’d understand. I also picked out a very young girl who seemed deeply disturbed. I assumed she wouldn’t be able to help us, but I figured I could at least buy her a few hours of peace.”

Gareth pauses to rub the bridge of his nose. Marina has gone very still, her face turning a paler shade of blue. “As soon as we were ushered into a private room,” Gareth continues, “the older woman started to take off her clothing. I think she was trying to divert my attention from the younger girl...protecting her the only way she could. The girl was curled up in a corner, staring at nothing, really, just trembling, terrified. The older woman went to undress me, but as soon as she got close to me, she stopped and froze.”

He looks at Marina. “I could tell she was smelling me and figuring out that I was somehow...different. I pulled out the pictures, and she was very surprised. It took her a few minutes to get her bearings. I showed her all of the pictures and, at first, she was completely confused, but she seemed to catch on quickly. She grasped that I was there to help her, and that I’m...an ally.”

“She knew that you are Selkie-kin,” Marina says, and he nods.

“What happened next?” Diana asks.

Gareth frowns. “The woman broke down weeping. She took the picture of the ocean and kept pointing at it, looking desperate. Then she went to the girl and tried to show her the pictures, especially the one of the ocean, but the girl was too terrified to register anything. We went over each picture of the planned escape in order several times, and I really think she understood. When our time was close to being up, she made a point of messing up the bed, of unbuttoning my shirt and undressing. About two seconds later, the tavern keeper arrived and told me I had to go.”

“But the skins,” Marina interjects, her voice breaking into discordant tones as she momentarily loses control of her gills. She throws her palms over the sides of her neck. “What of the skins?”

“I talked to the tavern keeper for a while when I first got there. Said I was concerned for my own safety. He told me they keep the skins in a locked trunk in a storage room. All the Selkie taverns have the same system—apparently, they streamlined things after one Selkie found her skin and murdered several people. The Amaz should have no trouble retrieving the skins from the storage rooms.”

Gareth pauses, as if remembering something troubling. “The Mage Council is cracking down on the ownership of Selkies, so most of them have been quietly sold to the Selkie taverns.” Gareth turns to Marina. “If you were still with him...you’d be in one of those places soon, if not already.”

Marina winces, and Gareth sets down his tea, taking her hand in his.

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