Page 3 of The Iron Flower

There’s only a few of us here—we can’t often meet in large groups without rousing suspicion. So, it’s become our responsibility to relay messages to the other small Resistance groups throughout Verpacia, including my brothers and the friends who helped us rescue Naga, the unbroken military dragon Yvan had befriended.

“The Mage Guard is patrolling their border day and night,” Jules continues gravely. He hesitates for a moment. “And now they’re using trained hydreenas to hunt down Fae.”

“Hydreenas?” Tierney echoes fearfully. She’s sitting beside me, her face tight as a bowstring. Her terror is understandable—the huge, boar-shaped beasts are both horrifyingly vicious and able to track scents over long distances.

“Vogel’s got the help of the local Gardnerian population, too,” Lucretia says ominously. “He’s placed a hefty price on the heads of any glamoured Fae.” The black silk of her Gardnerian tunic glistens in the lamplight. She’s camouflaged just like Tierney, and like I usually am when I’m not working in the kitchens—in a black Gardnerian tunic over a long ebony skirt, a white band of fabric cinched tightly around her upper arm. The white band worn by supporters of High Mage Marcus Vogel.

It’s imperative that our fellow Gardnerians believe we’re on their side, in order to protect the Resistance. Still, I can’t help feeling sick every time I have to don one of those armbands.

I’m only days into working for the Verpacian Resistance, but I know that it’s led by Jules, Lucretia and Fernyllia. There’s a Keltic arm of the Resistance that carries out acts of sabotage against the Gardnerian and Alfsigr forces, but the Verpacian group mainly works to evacuate refugees through Verpacia and out of the Western Realm.

Fear of both the Gardnerian and Alfsigr militaries runs high everywhere, so the Verpacian Resistance is small, under-armed and overwhelmed. Our only potential advantage is an unbroken military dragon with catastrophically shattered legs and wings.

The situation is daunting, to say the least.

I massage my temple in an attempt to soothe my unrelenting headache. The yeasty aroma of rising dough and the leafy smell of dried herbs waft in from the kitchen, along with an embrace of warmth that provides only slim comfort.

I’ve been in foul spirits all day.

I bolted awake at dawn in a cold sweat, my blankets roped tight around my limbs as my mind shook off yet another terrible nightmare. The same nightmare that’s been haunting me for days.

Disoriented, I grasped for details of the frightening dream as they started to fly away, faint as wisps of smoke.

A battlefield beneath a reddened sky, a malefic hooded figure roaming toward me as I cowered behind a blackened dead tree, a white wand gripped in my hand.

Now, many hours later, all that remains of the nightmare is a lingering sense of dread and the vague, unsettling feeling that something dark is searching for me.

“Any word on the Verpacian Council election?” Bleddyn asks.

Fernyllia gives her a somber look. “The Gardnerians are now the vast majority.”

“Ancient One,” I breathe out in dismay as Iris huffs angrily, her lovely hazel eyes filling with outrage.

And fear.

Yvan places his hand comfortingly on her arm, and I shake off the prick of envy that rises in me.

“We all knew that was coming.” Tierney’s words are acerbic, her mouth twisted into a half sneer. “The Verpacian Council has been a lost cause for a while now.”

But it’s more than just a lost cause—it’s an unmitigated disaster.

Verpacia is populated by a variety of ethnic groups—mainly Verpacian, Gardnerian, Elfhollen and Keltic. Now that its ruling Council is predominantly Gardnerian, it’s only a matter of time before their influence bears down on the country and begins to consume it.

Light flashes above us, and we all glance up. A dense cloud has formed near the storeroom’s raftered ceiling, small veins of white lightning pulsing inside it. I look to Tierney with alarm, and she gives me an anxious glance in return. Her increasingly powerful Asrai water magic is spinning out of control. Again.

Tierney closes her eyes tightly and pulls in a long, quivering breath. The cloud begins to dissipate, then disappears entirely. Both Jules and Lucretia are studying Tierney with expressions of deep concern, but she stubbornly avoids looking at either of them.

“The Gardnerians have their flags hanging everywhere.” Bleddyn punctuates her words with a slice of her hand. She fixes her eyes on me, her green lips twisting with disgust. “They’re waving the vile things around, acting like they’re the masters of Erthia.”

I inwardly shrink back from the force of Bleddyn’s glare, all too aware of my Gardnerian black hair and the emerald shimmer of my skin that’s only heightened by the storeroom’s dim light.

“We’re only days away from Verpacia being nothing more than an extension of Gardneria.” Iris’s voice is shrill as she looks at Jules entreatingly. “Wecannotbe here much longer, Jules.”

He nods sympathetically. “We’re preparing to move as many people east as we can, but we have to wait a few months for the desert storms to clear and for winter to give way. It’s too dangerous right now.” Jules does his best to reassure her, outlining when a safer opportunity for escape is likely to present itself, and as much as I dislike Iris, my heart goes out to her.

Yvan’s eyes meet mine for a moment, but then he quickly averts his gaze, and I feel a pang of hurt. He’s been noticeably cool toward me ever since we rescued Naga and destroyed the Gardnerian military base. And he’s become cooler still after my mortifying display only days ago, when I walked in on him and Iris in the barn and put my feelings for him on vivid display.

I pull in a long, shaky breath and force the biting memory to the back of my mind as Jules begins telling Fernyllia about the food supplies he needs for a group of refugees. My hand reflexively reaches for the Snow Oak necklace Lukas Grey sent me. Despite my efforts to keep him at arm’s length, Lukas still seems determined to wandfast to me, if his gifts and letters are anything to judge by.

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