Page 158 of The Iron Flower

I follow them all up the stairs and into the North Tower’s lantern-lit hallway. A stunned shock washes over me anew at the sight of Jarod sitting on the hallway’s stone bench, his eyes unfocused, his body slumped against the wall behind him.

Brendan brings Diana into our lodging and lays her on my bed. Rafe swoops in to her side, his hand caressing her cheek as he murmurs to her with heartbreaking tenderness.

I catch Wynter’s eye, desperation rocking me. “She hurled herself off a cliff.” I break into tears as I speak but fight through them. “We don’t know how bad it is...”

Wynter’s silver eyes darken with grief, and she nods. Ariel is standing beside Wynter, her eyes darting anxiously around at all of us, her wings flapping erratically.

Wynter goes to Diana and kneels down beside her. She places her hands gently on Diana’s face, closes her silver eyes and takes a long, slow breath. “She’s all right,” Wynter assures us, eyes still closed. “She wants to be unconscious.”

I cough out a relieved sob as Wynter tends to Diana and gets clothing for her. I look through the open doorway toward Jarod, who’s still sitting there with that frighteningly blank expression on his face. Trystan is now down on one knee before him, moving his wand back and forth in front of Jarod’s eyes to no response.

“He’s in shock,” Trystan says.

I look to Yvan, who is standing just inside the doorway, his face tensed with the same anguish I feel, his fire frenzied and volatile.

Boot heels sound on the stairs, and Trystan rises to his feet, drawing his wand. Yvan and I step outside the door just as Aislinn bursts into the hall, her face distraught.

“Aislinn!” I cry, stunned.

She spots Jarod, and her face wrenches with pain. Aislinn rushes over to him and falls on her knees before him, grasping his arms and breaking down at the sight of him. “Ancient One, what have they done to you?”

“Aislinn,” I say, my voice rough with tears. “He may not answer you.”

“I just heard what happened,” Aislinn tells Jarod, her attention only on him. “Jarod, I’m so sorry. I’m here and I love you. I havealwaysloved you. Jarod, please, look at me.”

Trystan places a kind hand on Aislinn’s heaving shoulder. “Aislinn.”

She gazes up at Trystan, tears streaming down her face. “Why won’t he look at me?”

“He’s in shock,” Trystan repeats, his voice catching with emotion.

“It’s all my fault,” Aislinn sobs, shaking her head. “My father kept alluding to something like this... I should have found out exactly what they were planning to do.”

“It’s not your fault, Aislinn,” Trystan insists. “Everyone knew of the threats.”

Aislinn keeps shaking her head from side to side. “I knew the Mage Council was planning something...but I never dreamed... Howcouldthey?” Aislinn falls into Jarod, embracing him tightly, trying in vain to break through his haze. “Jarod, please, it’s me. It’s Aislinn.”

A frantic Ariel stalks out of our lodging, wings flapping, her crow on her shoulder, her two chickens trailing her in a panic as she treads down the hallway. She peers through the hallway window, out over the field.

Ariel turns, her pale green eyes wide. “They’re here.”

Yvan, Trystan and I rush to the window.

Andras is riding up the field with a large contingent of Vu Trin sorceresses, their black military tunics marked with glowing blue runes, silver stars strapped diagonally across their chests and curved rune-swords at their sides. Commander Vin is riding beside Andras, Ni Vin following close behind. And, to my astonishment, Andras’s mother, Professor Volya, rides on his other side, little Konnor held tight in one arm.

As soon as the Vu Trin reach the base of the tower, Commander Vin leaps off her horse and begins yelling out orders in the Noi language. The other sorceresses immediately dismount and fan out around the North Tower.

A heavily armed Andras rushes inside, his weighty steps echoing up the tower’s stairs. Trystan opens the hallway door, and Andras bursts inside as Rafe and Wynter join us in the hallway.

“The Gardnerians have taken out both the Northern and Southern packs,” Andras says without preamble, his expression steely. “They’re all dead. The Vu Trin just received a rune-hawk from the Mage Council. The Council sent hawks out to the Verpacian Council and the Verpacian military, as well—they’re demanding that Verpacia cede their land.” Andras looks to Rafe. “Vogel is on his way here. The Gardnerian military is coming for Diana and Jarod—they want Gunther Ulrich’s children. They’re already within the city limits.”

Determination fills Rafe’s eyes as he abruptly turns and strides back toward our lodging. Andras and the rest of us follow him inside as Rafe lifts Diana up into his arms.

“We’re getting them outnow,” Rafe says to Andras. “Are the horses ready?”

“No,” comes Andras’s succinct reply.

Anger flashes across my brother’s face.

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