Page 53 of The Iron Flower

We’re all silent for a long moment as icy hail pelts the curtained window, battering the glass like it’s trying to break in. My sense of foreboding swells like a dark tide, and I’m suddenly reminded of my recurring nightmare.

A red sky. Dead trees. The White Wand.

And a dark figure searching, searching, searching for me.

“There’s another group that needs to get out,” I tell them, absently reaching down to reflexively touch my wand’s hilt through my skirt, a seditious fire sparking in the face of such insurmountable odds. “The Selkies.”

Jules’s lips lift into a small smile. “Are you helping Selkies now, Elloren?”

“I might be.”

A fond look washes over his face, as if he’s seeing someone else when he looks at me. “You’re so much like your...” He abruptly cuts himself off and looks away, clearing his throat.

“Like who?” I ask, confused.

He shakes his head, still not looking at me, as if shaking away the question. He turns back to me, his composure returning. “You should know that it’s very difficult to rally support for the Selkies,” he says. “There’s a widespread belief that they’re just animals in human form—”

“They’re not animals,” I state emphatically. “They’re weakened without their skins, but they’repeople.”

“That may be true,” he agrees, “but the fact that they can’t speak complicates things.”

I think of Marina’s flute-like mutterings and the look in her ocean-colored eyes when she’s trying to communicate with us. “I think they can speak. Just not in a way we understand.”

“It’s despicable, what goes on with the Selkies,” Lucretia spits out, color rising in her face. “I’ve tried to encourage sympathy for them in Resistance circles but have gotten absolutely nowhere.”

“You’d need an army to free the Selkies,” Jules puts in. “You’d be going up against the Gardnerian black market.”

I inwardly rail against the daunting barriers. “They need to get out of here before the Mage Council decides to kill them all,” I passionately argue. “My aunt and Vogel are going to push that motion through. You know they will. It’s only a matter of time.”

“I’ll speak to some people,” Jules says. “I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll try.”

“Thank you.” I pull in a long, shaky breath.

Jules wordlessly pours some tea for each of us. We drink it for a moment in silence, curlicues of steam rising from our cups and the spout of the teapot that sits on Jules’s desk.

I glance down at Lucretia’s hand, her long fingers gracefully holding her chipped, brown teacup. She reminds me a bit of Aunt Vyvian, all refined elegance, but she wields her power in such a different way. She looks to be in her thirties, but her hands are free of fastmarks, which is unusual for a Gardnerian woman at her age.

She looks like she might be younger than Jules, but not by a lot.

Staring at Lucretia’s unmarked hands, I’m abashedly reminded of what Diana told me about Lucretia and Jules—that they’ve one of the strongest attractions to each other that Diana has ever sensed in any couple.

But neither one of them knows about the other’s feelings.

Diana has commented on this more than once—expounding that if Jules and Lucretia were Lupine, the pack would insist they pair as their fevered longing for each other would be so distracting to the rest of the pack, it would be hard to even think around them.

And Jules, to my knowledge, has never been married.

I study them surreptitiously while they talk to each other. Jules quietly lists which Mage Council seals he needs her to pilfer the next time she’s in Valgard, and she matter-of-factly outlines what’s possible. I can’t find any outward hint of their feelings toward each other, but it’s clear they’re longtime friends. Fellow soldiers in this war, battle-hardened and weary.

Yet they give away nothing of their hearts.

“You’re not fasted.” The comment to Lucretia escapes me thoughtlessly, and my cheeks prick with heat.

Lucretia’s head bobs as she lets out a cynical laugh. “No. I’ve managed to dodge that particular arrow.” She eyes me significantly. “Not without challenge, you can be sure.”

“What are you going to do when fifth month comes?”

Lucretia gives a long sigh. “I’ll have to leave before the mandatory fasting goes into effect.”

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