Page 154 of The Iron Flower

“See,” he says, “you’re a fine dancer.”

I laugh. “Youdid all the dancing.”

Yvan’s smile is warmly alluring. “I’m a strong lead.”

I’m all too aware of my heart hammering in my chest, and not just from the exercise. “You’re dangerous, is what you are.”

It’s his turn to laugh. “Yes, but you knew that already.”

I go back to my violin as everyone else springs up—even Ariel, who relents and lets Valasca and Alder teach her a simple Amaz folk dance.

We play music and dance throughout the night, everyone learning bits of each other’s dances—Amaz dances, Fae dances, Keltic folk dances, Gardnerian dances, even the prim, graceful Elfin dance, where the partners face each other but never once touch.

And after the dancing is over, I play my favorite violin piece, the one I played so many months ago in Valgard—Winter’s Dark. But this time, I play it with a depth I’ve never been able to manage before. Who knew that such moving music could spring forth from so much hardship and turmoil?

At the very end, Wynter sings for us, and I sit and listen, Yvan’s arm draped around my shoulder. The words are foreign to me, but the beauty of Wynter’s voice seems to reach right up to touch the stars.

How can it be? How could it have happened? All of my dreams suddenly within reach?

I lean into Yvan, and his arm tightens around me. My life isn’t at all how I’d imagined it could be a year ago, but better. So much better.

The others gradually disperse, leaving Yvan and me alone by the fire, the stars bright above us.

“Elloren,” he says, his voice low, his hand caressing my shoulder. “If my mother and I... If the Lupines grant us amnesty... If we join them...will you come with us?”

My face warms from something that feels like sheer joy. I know what he’s asking—he doesn’t need to elaborate. By now I can read his feelings almost as well as my own.

Will you come with us? To a place where you and I can finally be together?

“You know,” I answer wryly, “I think it’s very likely that the Lupines are in need of a good apothecary.”

Yvan turns and smiles at me, looking like he can barely contain his happiness. “It’s so hard to believe,” he says, shaking his head. “That it might be possible...”

He lets out a deep breath, as if he’s been waiting for a long time to finally exhale. His whole life, maybe. “Perhaps,” he says, beaming at me, “there is some hope after all.”

CHAPTER FOUR

WATCHERS

I wake up the next morning with a smile on my face, music and happiness still echoing within me.

There’s an eerie glow in the room, like a deep blue dream that keeps reverberating even after it ends. I blink sleepily, trying to determine the source of the strange light, and then suddenly bolt upright.

Watchers.

They’re everywhere. Scores of them, perched motionless on the rafters supporting the North Tower’s stone ceiling, their wings wrapped around themselves, hiding their eyes. Like they’re in mourning.

I stare at them, transfixed, as foreboding swells deep inside me.

The line of Watchers blurs, then disappears, and the room abruptly darkens.

Ariel is still sleeping, but Wynter is sitting up in bed, her eyes wide and set on the rafters.

“What does this mean?” I rasp out to her.

Her glacial calm is unnerving. “I don’t know.”

A flash of white wings appears in the window.

---