Page 150 of The Iron Flower

Jules rises to his feet, chuckling to himself. “Just when you think something is impossible, over a hundred Selkies are suddenly free and swimming around in the ocean.” He turns and picks up the pile of books on his chair, lugs them over and hands them to me.

I take the books and set them on my lap.Comparative Mythology of the Western and Eastern Realms. A History of Religion.And translations of the holy books of the Alfsigr, the Smaragdalfar, the southern Ishkartan and the Noi.

“Religion this time?” I ask, surprised.

“Essential reading,” he says.

I cock an eyebrow and give him a wry smile. “So...more confusion? In this, too?”

He grins. “Especiallyin this.” He gestures loosely toward the pile. “Take a look. Mull them over.” He gives me a warm smile. “Let me know what you think.”

I look down at the stack. “You know,” I tell him, “I never thought I’d enjoy reading about all these types of things so much.” I flip through the top book, intrigued by a drawing of a starlit Noi dragon goddess rising up from the ocean, a spiral of ivory birds wreathing the goddess’s neck. “All I wanted to do when I first came here was learn how to be an apothecary, like my mother.”

I look up at him and smile. “This is a lot more interesting than what I’m currently studying. My Apothecarium professor has us memorizing the different uses of distilled Ironflower essence in antidotes for venomous bites, mostly from desert reptiles. I will likelynevervisit a desert.”

Jules returns to the chair behind his desk, eyes glinting with amusement as he sits down. “Knowledge is never wasted, my dear. No matter how obscure or difficult...or confusing. It always serves to enrich our lives, if we let it, and in ways we can rarely anticipate.”

I frown dramatically at him. “So...you think remedies for the venom of the rare Ishkartan Pitviper will deeply enrich my life?”

He smiles at this. “You know, when I was a young scholar like yourself, they had calligraphy as part of the required trivium here.Calligraphy, of all things. Oh, how I hated it—having to hold my hand at such odd angles, the letters having to be all at the same, unforgiving slant. I wasn’t interested in calligraphy. I only wanted to study history and great literature. Look around.”

I survey the messy room—books jammed into every conceivable crevice, jumbled stacks of paper on his desk.

“It’s quite obvious that I’m not someone who is overly comfortable with staying inside perfectly straight, rigid lines,” he says.

“So,” I ask with sarcasm, “did calligraphy enrich your life in the end?”

Jules breaks out into laughter and pushes up his falling spectacles. “It provided many hours of sheer frustration and often flat-out despair.”

I snort. “So much for all knowledge being so worthwhile.”

He leans back, becoming reflective. “It did, however, prove to be quite useful when the need arose to falsify documents. It turns out that I happen to be especially talented at creating false birth certificates.”

My eyebrows fly up at this. “So, the hidden Fae children,” I say, amused by the irony of it, “they were saved by...calligraphy?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “So, they were. And so might a few more. Calligraphy, of all the cursed things.” His face grows serious. “Learn all you can, Elloren, about everything you can. You will find that, when you’re as powerless as we are, it helps to be clever.”

I slump down in my chair. “It would be better to be powerfulandclever.”

Jules laughs again. “Quite so, quite so.”

And as much as I want to maintain my disgruntled look, I can’t help but smile back at him, and at the small flicker of hope that now seems to hover in the air all around us.

CHAPTER THREE

AMNESTY

Two nights later, I’m outside Andras’s circular dwelling, deep in the woods and surrounded by family and friends, all of us sitting around a roaring fire near Naga’s cave. My brothers, Yvan, the Lupines, Tierney and Andras, Wynter, Ariel, and even Valasca and Alder—we’re all here. Cael and Rhys arrive last, the two Elves an ethereal white against the dark forest.

Diana insisted we all meet her here, refusing to tell us why. She stands before us now with Rafe by her side, her wide grin sparking everyone’s curiosity.

“I received word this morning,” Diana says, beaming at us as if she can barely contain her joy. “My father has agreed to grant the Fae and the families who sheltered them amnesty in the Lupine territories.”

Tierney lets out a gasp, along with almost everyone else. My own hand reflexively comes up to cover my mouth.

Rafe grins at Diana. “It seems they were undecided,” my brother says, “but then a certain daughter of the Gerwulf Pack’s alpha held some sway.”

“Diana,” Tierney says, overcome, barely able to get the words out. “I can never thank you enough for this.Never.”

---