Page 169 of The Iron Flower

The next set is covered in whorls of emeralds, the gems thickening at the edges of the garment and glittering spectacularly. A third is delicately embroidered with deep green leaves, the neckline of the tunic cut scandalously low.

And there’s another Ironflower dress.

She knows, I realize.Somehow, she must know how much Lukas loved the shockingly brazen Ironflower dress I wore to the Yule Dance.

Because this dress rivals my Yule dress in its sheer flouting of all Gardnerian convention. The elegant black velvet tunic and skirt are embroidered with dark Ironwood trees that root at the base of the skirt and explode into a riot of Ironflowers on the tunic, each blossom sewn with phosphorescent sapphire thread.

Aunt Vyvian’s keeping me here in Verpax City for one reason, I realize, stunned and appalled.To keep me in the path of Lukas Grey.

I flinch at a pounding knock at the door.

“Rune-hawk message for you, Mage,” the bearded guard’s rough voice booms through the closed door.

On unsteady legs, I go to the door and open it. His pitiless eyes bore down on me, and I force myself to hold his cold glare. He stiffly hands me another folded letter that’s marked with the dragon seal of the Fourth Division Base. I take it from him and shut the door. Then I return to the secluded bedroom, unfold the note and read.

Elloren,

I’ll be in Verpacia this eve. I’ll send for you when I arrive.

Lukas

Thunder booms overhead.

A blistering rage I can barely contain swells up and crashes through me with devastating force.

The Lupines aredead. Almost all of themmurdered. And now, Lukas and Aunt Vyvian are using the slaughter of an entire people—of Diana and Jarod’s entire family—to advance my wandfasting to a member of the military that committed this heinous crime.

All of a sudden, I can’t think. I can’t breathe. My head pounds along with my pulse, and bright lights crackle in my vision. My knees buckle, and I slide down, bumping against the bed’s edge as I make clumsy contact with the lush rug beneath me. My breath comes in uncontrolled, staccato bursts as I throw back my head and cry.

* * *

I’m curled up, sobbing in a tight ball on the floor when I hear a door click open and the sound of light footsteps in the entrance foyer, then the parlor.

Alarmed, I lift my head as Tierney’s stern face comes into view and emotion blasts through me.

“Tierney,” I croak out. “They let you in?”

She falls to her knees before me as her tight, stoic expression collapses. We grasp onto each other, our foreheads pressed together as tears fall between us and mingle on our dark skirts.

After a moment, Tierney sits back and roughly wipes away her tears, her expression shifting from one of profound grief to a mask of grim endurance. We hold each other’s gaze, the silence between us weighed with devastation.

“How did you get past my guards?” I ask, bewildered.

Tierney’s frown deepens, and she glances distractedly at her white Vogel armband. “My father is active in the Crafters’ Guild. I tossed around a few names.”

“My brothers have been arrested,” I tell her, my voice breaking.

Her grave stare doesn’t waver. “I know. They’ve been taken into military custody. They’ll likely be tried for attacking those military apprentices.”

“Ancient One.” I drop my head into my hands as panic whirls through me.

“The scholar Rafe attacked—he’s the son of Mage Nochol Tarkiln, head of the Merchants’ Guild.”

Fury rises in me, red-hot, cutting clear through my panic. “I’m glad Rafe attacked him,” I lash out in a snarl. “I wish he’d torn his head clear off.”

My anger rapidly evaporates into a stifling fear for my brothers.I force a long, quavering breath. “I have to help them, Tierney. Where were they taken?”

“The Fourth Division Base.” Tierney’s eyes are heavy with import. “Lukas’s command.” She lets this new piece of information sink in, and a look of complicit understanding passes between us.

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