Page 155 of The Iron Flower

Both Wynter and I spring from our beds and rush to the window. Together, we look out into the cool, gray dawn.

Fear leaps in my chest.

Watchers dot the tops of the trees for as far as the eye can see. They’re immobile as statues, their wings wrapped tight, their eyes hidden, as if the dawning reality of this day is too much for them to bear.

A morbid chill slashes through me that I can feel deep in my bones.

Something is coming.

The sea of Watchers disappears. Like a flash of dire warning.

I whip my head toward Wynter. “I need to find my brothers. And Diana.Everyone.”

Wynter gives an almost imperceptible nod, her eyes moon-wide.

I race to throw on my clothes as fast as I can. Then I grab the White Wand from under my pillow, shove it into the side of my boot and rush through the hall and down the spiraling stairs.

Thunder rumbles to the west as I burst out of the North Tower. I race across the field toward the University, desperately scanning the trees of the surrounding wilds, searching for more Watchers as dark storm clouds boil and gather overhead.

I enter the usual morning bustle of the University streets at a sprint, dashing past clusters of scholars and professors. My eyes dart around wildly as I pass by Spine-stone buildings and run under walkways, searching for danger. For some clue as to what’s happened.

Everyone’s likely to be there in the dining hall, I console myself.Having breakfast. Or working in the kitchens.

I try to ignore the cramp in my side as I begin the trek up the long, sloping path to the kitchen that abuts the edge of the wilds, the livestock barns coming into view ahead. I’ve almost reached the back entrance to the kitchen when I spot a lone figure emerging from the woods. He’s wearing a heavy cloak, the cloak’s hood hanging low.

He lifts his head, and I meet his wild amber gaze.

I instantly recognize him. Diana’s childhood friend, Brendan. The red-haired, jovial member of her father’s guard who I met on Founder’s Day.

Brendan’s out of breath and dragging his feet, which is strange for a Lupine. And he’s holding a child in his arms. I realize he must have run very long and very hard to be so out of breath, and he has a haunted look in his eyes that sets a wave of black dread washing over me.

His expression speaks of disaster.

As he nears, I realize, in a flash of confusion, that he’s carrying Andras’s son in his arms—little Konnor.

Konnor’s pointed ears stick up from his mussed purple-and-blue hair. His face is muddy and tear-streaked, his crimson eyes thrown open too wide, as if in shock.

“What’s happened?” I ask, my voice tight with fear as Brendan stumbles to a halt before me. For a moment, he looks as if he’s about to be sick.

“The Southern pack...they’ve been...murdered...”

His words are a staggering punch to my gut.“No!”

“Everyone.Men...women...children. They’re all dead.” He struggles for breath and seems precariously close to falling over. I grab hold of both his arms to steady him.

Brendan lifts his head, his face a mask of grief. “Jarod and Diana’s parents... Kendra...my beautiful Iliana.” He chokes back a sob. “Allof them.”

“No,”I breathe, horror seizing me.

Brendan looks around blindly, eyes glassy and unfocused. “The Mage Council... They demanded that we cede our territory to Gardneria.” He chokes on the words. “We defied them, and they threatened to wipe us out. We...we didn’t pay any heed to this. They’ve threatened us so many times before.”

His chest heaves as if he’s about to retch, and I keep a tight grip on his arms. “I went out to hunt...and when I returned, I... I found them...all of them...dead...our homes turned to blackened ash.”

My eyes fill with tears as my gaze drops to Andras’s son. “How did Konnor survive?”

“His parents... I found him...under...under their bodies.” Brendan breaks down sobbing, his eyes screwed up tight as little Konnor hides his head in Brendan’s chest.

“Did the Gardnerians attack the Northern Lupines, too?” I ask, frantic.

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