Page 143 of The Iron Flower

Alcippe shoots me a look of pure, withering rage as she passes, gripping her rune-axe, and her look hollows me out, leaving me defenseless and ill-prepared for the misery about to pour in like an undertow.

Unexpectedly, Alcippe lunges for me, teeth gritted and bared. “Look at them, Gardnerian,” she snarls.“Look!”

And I do, with mounting devastation, as silver-haired women trail into the clearing. The pain of their abuse is etched deeply on their faces in so many different ways. Some look like their anger could overwhelm them at any moment, their heads whipping around as if debating where to attack first. Many appear horribly beaten down, the light stripped from their eyes, their heads hung low, feet dragging. Others seem terrorized, their movements frantic and nervous, as if any loud sound might send them running for cover. And a few seem to be in total shock, like one very young girl guided by two older Selkies, her eyes blank and traumatized, staring out into nothingness.

The girl drops to the ground, hugs her knees to her chest and rocks herself, refusing to get up. A tall soldier kneels down in front of her and talks to her softly, her strong hand on the girl’s back. The two older Selkies also kneel down to the girl’s level, all of them trying in vain to comfort her as the child looks out into nothing, straight through the women around her.

“Look ather!” Alcippe growls at me, motioning toward the girl. I open my mouth to respond, but I can’t speak. It’s all too horrifying for words.

“How old does she look?” Alcippe demands. I try to speak again, to no avail. “Howold, Gardnerian?”

“Twelve,” I manage to croak out.

“You would not believe where we found her, what the men of your kind were doing to her!”

Alcippe doesn’t need to hit me with her rune-axe. The weight of this slams into me mercilessly all on its own. The shame of it presses down, threatening to suffocate.

“I tell you this, Gardnerian,” Alcippe grinds out, her eyes wild with rage, “if I ameverface-to-face with any of your men, even the ones you call your friends, the ones you call your brothers, I will slice them in two.Thisis why the Goddess tells us to cast them out at birth. To live apart from them. To be stronger than they are. Because even the most harmless male baby—thisis what he will grow up to do!Lookat her!”

I force myself to look again. The Amaz and the two Selkies are trying to gently cajole the now-trembling girl to her feet. Alcippe strides over to where the girl sits and, without hesitation, picks the child up in her strong, muscular arms and carries her toward the shelter of a circular, rune-covered military tent.

I want to call after Alcippe, to tell her that not all men are like this, but at this moment, surrounded by so much misery, the words feel empty and false in my throat. Then Marina enters the clearing, her arm wrapped tightly around a young girl who clings to her as they walk. Her sister—the girl from Wynter’s pictures.

Marina’s head turns toward me, her expression blaring outrage. Our eyes meet with quiet devastation before she and her sister disappear into a huge tent with the others.

* * *

The Amaz care for the Selkies throughout the day and into the evening, and I stumble about, trying to help as best I can.

I work well into the night, bringing food, scrubbing plates and pots. Feeling close to collapse, I feel Diana’s gentle hand on my arm, and I let her lead me away to a communal sleeping tent. Once there, she leads me to a bedroll and covers me with a thick felt blanket. Then she curls up next to me and encircles me in her warm arms.

I sob into her chest, drowning in the deep, visceral disgust over what I’ve seen and the stories I’ve heard, feeling like I never want to see another man again.

“They should give them their skins,” I cry. “Not make them wait until they bring them back to the ocean. They should give their skins back and let them massacre as many Gardnerians as possible.”

“Shhh,” Diana tells me, stroking my hair. I cry and cry, my eyes eventually so swollen it feels natural to shut out what’s left of the light. And I continue to cry until sleep claims me.

* * *

“Elloren.”

I feel a hand on my shoulder, rocking me.

Marina.

I sit up, startled.

“We’re all leaving,” she says, crouched down beside me. She takes in my swollen eyes, her brow tensing as she briefly glances toward a solemn Diana.

“So, this is goodbye?” My heart twists at the thought of never seeing her again. She gives a small, sad smile and nods. I fall into her arms, my hand stroking her water-like hair. “I’ll miss you, but I’m glad you finally get to go home. I hope you find a way to stop all this forever.”

“The Amaz have given us runes,” she tells me as she sits back and pulls a rune-stone from her pocket. Its ebony surface is marked with a looping scarlet rune. “They believe we’ll be able to use these to break the spell that pulls us to shore.”

“Good,” I tell her, her form wavy through my tears.

Diana and I accompany Marina outside. It’s late afternoon and overcast, spitting a light rain that probably carries an icy chill outside of the rune-warmed valley. Valasca is on horseback and calling out orders as Alcippe, Freyja and a host of other women help over a hundred Selkies onto horses in front of their armed Amaz protectors. Large sacks filled with what I assume are the Selkies’ skins are tied to several horses, those mounts and their riders surrounded by heavily armed guards.

I spot Queen Alkaia approaching through the crowd. Valasca rides over to the queen and leans down from her mount, listening intently and nodding repeatedly as the queen quietly speaks to her.

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